Here There and Everywhere

Expat wanderer

Even After All this Time – Latifi

A good book can make your blood race faster. A good book may even require underlines, turned page corners to mark the places you liked the best. A good book may compell you to tell others about it. Above all, a good book is a book you think about long after you have turned the last page.

Some of my best “good books” come to me through Little Diamond, my neice who lives in Beirut. We share a family culture, but even better, we share a wacky sense of humor. There are times we can’t even let our eyes meet in family gatherings, because we are thinking the same thing and can’t afford to laugh out loud.

She recommended this book to me more than three years ago, and I bought it immediately. And then it sat in my “read me soon” pile(s), languishing, unread, until early this year.

Oh, what a treat this book is! Once I picked it up, I could hardly put it down!

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The book is autobiographical, and begins in pre-revolutionary Iran, where Afchineh Latifi’s father is a soldier. You see the early years of her life with her sweet, struggling parents, and you feel like you lived in their home with them, the images are so vivid.

As a military officer, though, her father is suspect once the revolutionaries come into power, and her family’s fortunes fail. Her father is arrested. As Latifi’s mother bravely goes from jail to jail, trying to find her husband, her daughters are often with her. Once she finds him, she brings him comfort items – shaving kit, washcloth, etc. so he can maintain a small amount of dignity while he is being beaten and imprisoned. Latifi’s mother was young when this book opens, maybe in her thirties, with two daughters and two sons, and I am totally blown away by the courage it took to persist as her husband was transferred from prison to prison, increasingly brutalized, and then, immediately after the last visit – shot. So immediately that the family heard the shots.

And then the real nightmare begine. The young mother and her family have no income, and her (now dead) husband’s mother claims her house, even though they bought her a house of her own while her husband was alive. Latifi’s Mom never gives up. She gets her daughters visitor’s visas to Austria and puts them in a convent school, and then gets them to America – again on visitor’s visas – where they are forced to camp – for years – with a relative. Literally, years. Their brave mother eventually manages to get herself and her sons out of Iran, and join them in the US.

Their mother is a pistol. She is brave in the face of obstacles that would deter most of us. She never gives up. I am in total awe of her commitment to the survival – and thriving – of her family.

I love this book for two reasons – the first being the strength and courage of this family, and the second being that they immigrated to America. You will hear a lot of Americans who say terrible things about immigrants, and how they take up scarce resources better meant for “real” Americans. Who are they kidding? We are ALL immigrants, in America, except for the Native Americans! This family, their will to succeed, is the story of us all, and what makes the country great. It is still a country where you can work hard, and succeed, and thrive. It’s an every day story in our country, but a story I never get tired of hearing.

Here are some excerpts from the book:

She looked at me as if I were an alien, which in fact I was. “Yes,” she said, “You get a library card and you can borrow as many books as you want.”

“And it doesn’t cost a thing?” I asked.

“Not a penny,” the woman said. “Unless you bring the books back late. Then we charge you a late fee.”

This was news to me. There were libraries in Tehran to be sure, but we had never frequented them. Mom would come home every two or three weeks with armsful of new books, and we would devour them hungrily. We were much too spoiled to share books with anyone.

The librarian processed my card on the spot. I couldn’t believe it. It felt like the biggest gift of my life. . . . . By the end of the summer I discovered a whole new world. Books. Words. Stories. I got in touch with my inner geek. Reading was not only exciting, it offered escape. When I was reading, my other life didn’t exist. There were days when I didn’t even think of Mom.

Her Mother was still in Iran at this time, and she and her sister are living with relatives who have loud arguments wondering how much longer they will be burdened with these girls. Finally, the two sisters find jobs, as well as going to school, and save every penny, and get an apartment where they live while putting themselves through university. And, one day, their mother and brothers arrive. Life changes. They all live together again.

“It’s almost Norouz,” she said. “Or have you forgotten?”

I had indeed forgotten. She was referring to the Persian New Year, which on the Gregorian calendar falls in late March. About two weeks before the start of Norouz, many Persians take part in something called ‘khane tekani,’ which literally means ‘shaking your house.’ You will see people painting their homes, washing their carpets, sweeping out their attics, cleaning their yards. One could say that it is a form of spring cleaning, but that is only a very small part of it. In Persian ‘no’ means new, and ‘rouz’ means day. The last Wednesday of the year is known as ‘chahar shanbeh suri.’ At dusk, with the cleaning over, people light small bonfires and sing traditional songs, and those who can manage it are urged to jump over flames. Fire, too, is seen as a cleansing, purifying agent: it burns away all the negative things in one’s life – the bad habits, the misfortune, the sorrows. It’s all about cleanliness: clean house, clean soul, new beginnings.

On the “new day” itself, people focus on family and friends, and for the next two weeks there will be much visiting back and forth. In each house, one finds a ‘sofreh eid,’ . . . Laid out on this garment, one will find the ‘Haft Seen’ (Seven S’s) comprised of seven items that begin with the letter S. These are ‘sabzeh’ or sprouts (representing rebirth); samanu, a pudding (for sweetness in life); ‘senjed,’ the sweet, dry fruit of the lotus tree (representing love); ‘serkeh’ or vinegar (for patience); ‘seer’ or garlic (for its medicinal qualities); ‘somaq’ or sumak berries (for the color of sunrise); and ‘seeb’ or red apples (symbols of health and beauty. In addition there are candles laid out on the ‘sofreh eid” one for each member of the household. The lit candles represent the goodness and warmth that enter life with the coming of spring.

(For the first time, this year we are invited to a new year’s celebration, and I thank God that I read this book just at the right time, so I will know even just a little of what this is all about. I am excited to see the ‘haft seen.’ )

Something else happened that November that I will never forget: Our family celebrated Thanksgiving for the first time. We loved the whole idea behind the celebration. It wasn’t about religion, and it wasn’t about gifts; it was about people sitting down to enjoy a meal together and acknowledging everything that they had to be thankful for. And we had a lot to be thankful for.

By the end of the book, all four children have graduated from university with professional degrees. This isn’t a spoiler. The book is about the sacrifice, the hard work and the commitment it took to get them there. Even After All This Time is an inspirational book, a book you won’t soon forget, and a book you will want to share with your friends.

Amazon offers it used from $4.67 and in hardcover around $25.

And Happy New Year to my Persian friends.

March 18, 2007 - Posted by | Biography, Books, Cooking, Cross Cultural, ExPat Life, Family Issues, Financial Issues, Generational, Holiday, Iran, Living Conditions, Political Issues, Relationships, Social Issues, Spiritual, Thanksgiving, Uncategorized

7 Comments »

  1. “It’s almost Norouz,” she said. “Or have you forgotten?”: Would you believe my mom said the same exact sentence to me last week!!! I can’t believe I had forgotten.

    Unfortunately the last time I truly celebrated Norouz was over 6 years ago. My favorite part was growing the ‘sabzeh’. I always started a month (which is a bit early)before Norouz with various different types of seeds and vases. I remember checking on them every few hours to see how much they have grown.

    My sisters loved setting the Haft Seen table; and mom of course loved the spring cleaning part; my brothers the gold fish; and my father the sweets. The part the we all loved is the last day of Norouz called “sezdeh bedar” (thirteen outdoors)– an all-day picnic.

    Thanks for taking me down memory lane 😉

    Magical Droplets's avatar Comment by Magical Droplets | March 18, 2007 | Reply

  2. Magical – your comment just made my day! I can see you in my mind, checking those sprouts. 🙂 But please, tell me about the gold fish?

    intlxpatr's avatar Comment by intlxpatr | March 18, 2007 | Reply

  3. What an inspiring story. Thank you for telling us about this wonderful book

    jewaira's avatar Comment by jewaira | March 19, 2007 | Reply

  4. Jewaira, hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 🙂

    intlxpatr's avatar Comment by intlxpatr | March 20, 2007 | Reply

  5. Honestly I wasn’t sure why we put goldfish on our 7 seen table. Your question made me google it:

    “Gold Fish in a clear white bowl represents life and the end of the astral year associated with the constellation Pisces.”
    LINK

    Also in wiki, it mentioned that the sun leaves the sign of Pisces on 21st of March (1st day of spring)

    Thanks for making me learn 🙂

    Magical Droplets's avatar Comment by Magical Droplets | March 21, 2007 | Reply

  6. Magical – thank YOU for helping us all learn! 🙂

    intlxpatr's avatar Comment by intlxpatr | March 22, 2007 | Reply

  7. Wow! Magical, I just checked out the Nauroz link in your reply – WOW! Again, thanks!

    intlxpatr's avatar Comment by intlxpatr | March 22, 2007 | Reply


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