April 2nd 2010
I’m on a plane on my way to Dubai. I have been
traveling for the last 18 hours. We will land in Dubai in about two hours. For
some reason, as the time of my departure grew near, I felt more and more numb.
I haven’t been emotional at all. I have been wondering about meeting Azi, my
sister whom I have not seen in over twenty years, and her two daughters. After all these years, we are meeting in
Dubai for a family reunion. Iran is the
country of my birth. I left Iran when I
was 17 years old and have not been back since due to the political situation in
Iran. I keep asking myself, “What if I
don’t feel anything when I see Azi and her daughters?” So many years have
passed. We have been separated by time and a culture that is so different from
my own. I have changed so much. What if we have nothing in common?
The young American man sitting next to me is so polite and courteous. He is going to Dubai to see his parents who work there. About half of the people on the plane seem to be from India, Middle East and other Asian countries. The announcements made by the flight attendants are in English and Arabic.
During the flight, I, periodically, look at the map of our journey on the TV monitor in front of me. We are flying by Iran. How I wish I were going to Iran instead of Dubai. That was my original plan, but the political situation in Iran has gotten worse and those of my family who don’t live in Iran decided not to take any chances by traveling to Iran for this family reunion. For a moment, I think about all the pain and oppression inflicted on the people of Iran by the Islamic Republic of Iran. So many young people are in prisons enduring unimaginable cruelty. So many people are suffering at the hands of the unjust Muslim clergy. This government has persecuted the Baha’is, people of my religion, since it came to power over 30 years ago. My heart goes out to all of them, and I say a prayer for Iran. In my mind, I visualize the map of Iran in flames. That is how I see Iran. The calamity endured by the Iranians during the reign of the Islamic regime has been great. People’s freedoms and human rights have been taken away so violently and in so many different ways.
The plane is descending. We are flying over the Persian Gulf. I remember when I lived in Iran, every spring during the Persian New Year holiday of Norooz, we would travel to the southern part of Iran by the Persian Gulf where my sister Azi and her family used to live. Iran or Persia has the longest border of any country with the Persian Gulf and hence the name. About fifteen minutes before landing, I see an island with four huge fires burning. It is the untamed gas that is burning continuously. The flames starch out to the sky for hundreds or thousands of feet. As a child, I saw similar fires in the oil rich areas of Iran. As we descend, I can see the city of Dubai. It is obvious that it is a new city. There are many roads and highways. The roads are straight and they, sometimes, form perfect squares when they cross. There is symmetry in a lot of what I see. There are very large highways with six or seven lanes going one way.
We land. The Dubai airport is new and beautiful. There are palm trees in the main area. I see Arab men dressed in long white gowns that are very clean and ironed. They have their traditional headdress on and all are wearing sandals. I see women wearing long black covering. Some show their faces, which are perfectly made up. Some only show their eyes. Some show nothing and are covered entirely with a black cloth over their faces. Some are wearing pants and long sleeve shirts with shawls over their hair. I feel almost naked with my hair and some skin showing. I didn’t expect to see women that were covered entirely in black not showing an inch of skin in Dubai. I thought because there is such an influx of foreigners in Dubai Arab women would be less conservative. The airport workers are all foreigners, people from the Philippines, India, Pakistan and other Asian nations. All are fluent in English. The foreign women are dressed like westerners. The only Arabs that I see working are the men at the customs, again, all dressed in white long gowns with their headdresses. I pick up my luggage, exchange dollars to Dirham and head out to catch a cab. I ask myself, “Is it safe for me to take a cab alone?” It is 8:00 PM. The temperature is in the 80’s and it is very humid. I catch a cab. The friendly disposition of the driver makes me feel at ease. He is from India. During the thirty minutes that takes me to get to my hotel, I look at my surroundings. Buildings are all new and western in style. The only thing that reminds one that she or he is in an Arab country is that all the signs for stores, banks and businesses are both in English and Arabic. Because there are so many Arabic words incorporated into the Persian language and vise versa, I can read a lot of the signs. As I look at my surroundings, I see Starbucks, Chilies, KFC, Ace Hardware, Baskin Robins, and other American chains.
April 3rd
This is the day that my family who has come from four different counties for this reunion will meet. With the exception of Azi and her daughters, I have seen everybody recently. I am nervous about meeting Azi and her family. At 6:00 o’clock, my sister Zhaleh, and one of my relatives Simon with her 2 kids and her husband Polo arrive. Simon and her husband have rented a minivan for the duration of our stay. On the way to meet Azi, Simon’s husband, Polo and their two kids are going to be dropped off at SKI Dubai, a large building where fake snow and ski slopes are made, and people who have never seen snow can actually ski in the midst of the Arabian Desert. The minivan is equipped with a GPS, which Simon refers to as “Lola”.
Finally, at 7:00 PM we start on the path to our reunion. Every few minutes, I remember that the long awaited moment of reunion is finally arriving. I am filled with excitement and fear, fear of not being able to connect to the people that I have not seen in so many years, fear of being total strangers.
We get in the minivan. Polo is driving and Lola, the GPS, is guiding us. The car is low on gas, and we need to find a gas station before going too far. There are so many new constructions and roads that Lola, the GPS, gets us lost. Lola doesn't have the latest information and is totally confused. After about 20 minutes of driving we end up in front of our hotel back where we started. We all get a good laugh out of this. At that point, Polo goes to a cab driver and asks him about the nearest gas station, which apparently is not easy to find. Polo gives him some money and asks him to lead us to a gas station. We get in the car trying to follow the cab driver that zooms through the traffic very quickly. Polo follows him making quick moves trying not to lose him. At one point, we’re not sure if we’re following the right cab. Polo is driving fast and Simon is trying to keep track of the cab saying things like “He turned here. He went to the left. He went to the right….” While behind a red light, Polo gets out of the car and goes to the cab driver and says, “Don’t make me drive all over the city. I’m almost out of gas.” Twenty minutes later, we are at a gas station. After Polo puts gas in the car, he and the kids take the same cab that we were following to go to Ski Dubai. Meanwhile, Zhaleh, Simon and I will go to meet Azi. Polo leaves. Simon gets behind the steering wheel and says, “I can’t put the car in gear.” I tell her, “You have to turn on the engine first!” We both look at the starter and there is no key. Frantically, Simon looks in her purse and all over the car to find the key, but there is no key to be found. We are parked in front of a gas pump at a gas station. The three of us burst into laughter. Once we stop laughing, we start panicking. We talk to the gas station attendant. We tell him what has happened. He says, “But you have to move your car.” We keep repeating that there is no key. He tells Simon to call her husband. She says, “We don’t have cell phone coverage here. I can’t contact him.” Simon and I take a cab, go to Ski Dubai while Zhaleh stays in the car. We get to Ski Dubai and try to find Polo and the kids. As we are looking, Simon realizes that she has a message on her cell phone. It seems that she has coverage after all. The message is from Polo saying that he has the car keys, and he is going back to the gas station. We go back to the gas station and get in the car and drive toward our destination. So, finally, at 9:30 we get to our meeting place. We make a final call telling Azi that we are parked at the designated place by the apartment building where they are staying.
The young American man sitting next to me is so polite and courteous. He is going to Dubai to see his parents who work there. About half of the people on the plane seem to be from India, Middle East and other Asian countries. The announcements made by the flight attendants are in English and Arabic.
During the flight, I, periodically, look at the map of our journey on the TV monitor in front of me. We are flying by Iran. How I wish I were going to Iran instead of Dubai. That was my original plan, but the political situation in Iran has gotten worse and those of my family who don’t live in Iran decided not to take any chances by traveling to Iran for this family reunion. For a moment, I think about all the pain and oppression inflicted on the people of Iran by the Islamic Republic of Iran. So many young people are in prisons enduring unimaginable cruelty. So many people are suffering at the hands of the unjust Muslim clergy. This government has persecuted the Baha’is, people of my religion, since it came to power over 30 years ago. My heart goes out to all of them, and I say a prayer for Iran. In my mind, I visualize the map of Iran in flames. That is how I see Iran. The calamity endured by the Iranians during the reign of the Islamic regime has been great. People’s freedoms and human rights have been taken away so violently and in so many different ways.
The plane is descending. We are flying over the Persian Gulf. I remember when I lived in Iran, every spring during the Persian New Year holiday of Norooz, we would travel to the southern part of Iran by the Persian Gulf where my sister Azi and her family used to live. Iran or Persia has the longest border of any country with the Persian Gulf and hence the name. About fifteen minutes before landing, I see an island with four huge fires burning. It is the untamed gas that is burning continuously. The flames starch out to the sky for hundreds or thousands of feet. As a child, I saw similar fires in the oil rich areas of Iran. As we descend, I can see the city of Dubai. It is obvious that it is a new city. There are many roads and highways. The roads are straight and they, sometimes, form perfect squares when they cross. There is symmetry in a lot of what I see. There are very large highways with six or seven lanes going one way.
We land. The Dubai airport is new and beautiful. There are palm trees in the main area. I see Arab men dressed in long white gowns that are very clean and ironed. They have their traditional headdress on and all are wearing sandals. I see women wearing long black covering. Some show their faces, which are perfectly made up. Some only show their eyes. Some show nothing and are covered entirely with a black cloth over their faces. Some are wearing pants and long sleeve shirts with shawls over their hair. I feel almost naked with my hair and some skin showing. I didn’t expect to see women that were covered entirely in black not showing an inch of skin in Dubai. I thought because there is such an influx of foreigners in Dubai Arab women would be less conservative. The airport workers are all foreigners, people from the Philippines, India, Pakistan and other Asian nations. All are fluent in English. The foreign women are dressed like westerners. The only Arabs that I see working are the men at the customs, again, all dressed in white long gowns with their headdresses. I pick up my luggage, exchange dollars to Dirham and head out to catch a cab. I ask myself, “Is it safe for me to take a cab alone?” It is 8:00 PM. The temperature is in the 80’s and it is very humid. I catch a cab. The friendly disposition of the driver makes me feel at ease. He is from India. During the thirty minutes that takes me to get to my hotel, I look at my surroundings. Buildings are all new and western in style. The only thing that reminds one that she or he is in an Arab country is that all the signs for stores, banks and businesses are both in English and Arabic. Because there are so many Arabic words incorporated into the Persian language and vise versa, I can read a lot of the signs. As I look at my surroundings, I see Starbucks, Chilies, KFC, Ace Hardware, Baskin Robins, and other American chains.
April 3rd
This is the day that my family who has come from four different counties for this reunion will meet. With the exception of Azi and her daughters, I have seen everybody recently. I am nervous about meeting Azi and her family. At 6:00 o’clock, my sister Zhaleh, and one of my relatives Simon with her 2 kids and her husband Polo arrive. Simon and her husband have rented a minivan for the duration of our stay. On the way to meet Azi, Simon’s husband, Polo and their two kids are going to be dropped off at SKI Dubai, a large building where fake snow and ski slopes are made, and people who have never seen snow can actually ski in the midst of the Arabian Desert. The minivan is equipped with a GPS, which Simon refers to as “Lola”.
Finally, at 7:00 PM we start on the path to our reunion. Every few minutes, I remember that the long awaited moment of reunion is finally arriving. I am filled with excitement and fear, fear of not being able to connect to the people that I have not seen in so many years, fear of being total strangers.
We get in the minivan. Polo is driving and Lola, the GPS, is guiding us. The car is low on gas, and we need to find a gas station before going too far. There are so many new constructions and roads that Lola, the GPS, gets us lost. Lola doesn't have the latest information and is totally confused. After about 20 minutes of driving we end up in front of our hotel back where we started. We all get a good laugh out of this. At that point, Polo goes to a cab driver and asks him about the nearest gas station, which apparently is not easy to find. Polo gives him some money and asks him to lead us to a gas station. We get in the car trying to follow the cab driver that zooms through the traffic very quickly. Polo follows him making quick moves trying not to lose him. At one point, we’re not sure if we’re following the right cab. Polo is driving fast and Simon is trying to keep track of the cab saying things like “He turned here. He went to the left. He went to the right….” While behind a red light, Polo gets out of the car and goes to the cab driver and says, “Don’t make me drive all over the city. I’m almost out of gas.” Twenty minutes later, we are at a gas station. After Polo puts gas in the car, he and the kids take the same cab that we were following to go to Ski Dubai. Meanwhile, Zhaleh, Simon and I will go to meet Azi. Polo leaves. Simon gets behind the steering wheel and says, “I can’t put the car in gear.” I tell her, “You have to turn on the engine first!” We both look at the starter and there is no key. Frantically, Simon looks in her purse and all over the car to find the key, but there is no key to be found. We are parked in front of a gas pump at a gas station. The three of us burst into laughter. Once we stop laughing, we start panicking. We talk to the gas station attendant. We tell him what has happened. He says, “But you have to move your car.” We keep repeating that there is no key. He tells Simon to call her husband. She says, “We don’t have cell phone coverage here. I can’t contact him.” Simon and I take a cab, go to Ski Dubai while Zhaleh stays in the car. We get to Ski Dubai and try to find Polo and the kids. As we are looking, Simon realizes that she has a message on her cell phone. It seems that she has coverage after all. The message is from Polo saying that he has the car keys, and he is going back to the gas station. We go back to the gas station and get in the car and drive toward our destination. So, finally, at 9:30 we get to our meeting place. We make a final call telling Azi that we are parked at the designated place by the apartment building where they are staying.
To be continued...
2 comments:
Very funny, I just find out what had happened to you guys to keep us waiting that much long.:)
Yes, I think it was funny too.
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