I find that generally speaking, Iranians are a jovial bunch. Quick to crack a joke, down for a party and always willing to sit down for tea with friends and family.
But as soon as the topics of Iranian culture or history come up, things turn conspiratorial and/or depressing. Of course there’s no shortage of bad history to account for this and as I work on the project, I find myself focusing on the sorrowful Iran more often than I’d originally hoped. (See 1, 2, 3, 4.) It’s hard not to; so much of the culture centers around mourning. Everyday sayings use analogies of martyrdom and death. Rumi’s poetry, that paragon of Persian society, is defined by sorrowful longing for a lost love. In an upcoming episode, an immigrant – my mom – longs for a home that doesn’t seem to exist anywhere. (watch a clip below)
Given the Iranian tendency towards melancholy, I was very pleased to come across this wonderful idea from a blogger named “seamorg.”
Seamorg writes:
Looking for Persian dancers: of any style, but especially male or female Beat Boys, breakdancers, poppers, lockers, or Iranians who can do African or other ethnic dance to perform dances inspired by the green wave.
This is a tribute to the allah-u-akbar cries from the rooftops of Iranians. (PYTYK note: The protestors in Iran have taken to shouting “Allah-u-Akbar” from their rooftops as a sign of defiance.)
Email me videos of yourself dancing on your roof-top.
Why? Because despair thrives by making us despair. The only way to fight the sad-ness enforcement of the I.R.I is by being irrepressibly joyous. (PYTYK emphasis)
Please email for more details: seamorg74million@gmail.com
So if you’re a dancer, or aren’t afraid of people knowing you’re not, please shoot seamorg an email.
The new episode, “memories of a girl from north country,” takes the project in a slightly different direction. One of the original impulses in starting People You Think You Know was to explore how every aspect of our lives make up who we are, and make us ever so slightly (or incredibly) different from everyone else. This way, there are as many cultures on earth as there are people – making us all immigrants in each others’ lives. As I concentrate on my relationship (and the U.S.’s) to Iran, I also intend to take a look at some other case studies in immigration. The newest video entry begins the story of my girlfriend: a traveler from Alaskan winters who finds herself in an unlikely relationship with a boy from a land of pomegranates and the world’s oldest cypress tree.
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To see and read more, find this episode inside the main site.
The Iranian code of etiquette called “ta’arouf,” is a complex and multi-faceted phenomenon with cultural as well as political implications. It smothers almost every social interaction with a labyrinth of expected requests, responses and counter requests that is nearly impossible to explain to an outsider. Yet in many ways it exemplifies the Iranian psyche more than any other single facet of Iranian life.
In ta’arouf you witness Iranians’ deep sense of pride, coupled with intense self-deprecation – their love of social life mashed up against their tendency towards privacy. Ta’arouf is even the source of some of the more baffling, frustrating interactions between Iranian leaders and the West. But in this episode, you see a rather benign and humorous exchange of ta’arouf between my family. I’m sure I will have to return to the topic soon – it is nearly impossible to gloss over.
