Monday at 15:45 in Stiltecentrum (building Z) of Tilburg University, I will be debating over the Fitna movie of Geert Wilders. The program is presented by the CWL (centrum of science and life's philosophy). See for more information here.
Also on Thursday April 3rd 2008, at 13:00 - 13:30 in Black Box, Esplanade building of Tilburg University, I will be presenting a speach about decomcracy in Iran. This syposium will be brought to you by Elsa Tilburg. See for more information about the other speakers here.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Norouz
Thursday morning, April 20, 2008, at 6:15 a.m., I heard the most beautiful voice ever, whose owner tried to wake me up. I was sleeping in my old bed, in my old room, and the voice belonged to my precious mum. I turned a bit in my bed and was enjoying the beautiful sphere; that only mum can create.
But then I heard the man, who was in one of those 24hour Persian-exile-TV channels, saying, “Only 20 minutes left, for the delivery of the New Year.” I jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom to wash my face, then ran back to my old room, wore the new cloths I had just bought for the new year, went to look at the mirror, but the mirror was not there and I remembered that I have moved all my stuff to my own place… I ran to mum’s bedroom and bumped into my little sister who had not changed yet. “Come on we don’t have much time…”, and the man followed as if he wanted to warn my sister too, “Only 10 minutes left, for the delivery of the New Year”, I ran to the room and checked myself out, and I was ok. I came back from the room, slowly, mum was standing next to the 7sin table; the table with 7 symbolic things all starting with Persian letter S, called sin. There was the sabze, pea or wheat than has been put in water some weeks ago and have grown and sprouted, as a symbol of rebirth; then there was my beloved samanou, sweet brown pudding of wheat germ symbolizing affluence; the sour somagh, sumac berry symbolizing sunrise; senjed, dried fruit of the oleaster tree symbolizing the one thing I am missing in my life: love; sir, garlic symbolizing medicine; serke, vinegar symbolizing patience; sib, apple symbolizing beauty & health. Of course and as usual there were all the things that do belong in the 7sin table but did not start with a sin, the mirror symbolizing honesty, different Persian pastries (like baqlava or “shirni nokhodchi” which is just to die for) symbolizing sweet moments, candles symbolizing light and happiness, colored and painted eggs (same as in Easter holiday) symbolizing fertility, a bowl with a goldfish in it symbolizing life, and a holy book (I always put Sohrab Sepehri’s poetry book 8ketab, religious people put the Quran, or Avesta - Zaraostrianist's book- ) as always mum had put the Shahnameh. I was ready to start, and was wondering why they call it delivering New Year, so if that was delivering it, is the man on TV the delivery man? They started the countdown of “30, 29, 28,” … We are suppose to all sit at the table of 7sin, my brother is at work though, when the year is delivered, he will be working. In a traditional way, it would mean that he will be working throughout the next year; instead I will be with the family celebrating all the time because I sat at the table, I would be clean and fresh, dolled up in new cloths… yeah right!
In reality I would work my B** off studying and most of the time I would look like hell either at the university or at my own house. I would not spend much time with my family even if I wanted to, the man interrupted me, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Happy New Year” we stood up hugged and kissed each other. I missed someone. My little sister took a shirni nokhodchi, we are suppose to eat one of each food present on table, my first choice was senjed, though I love samanou a hell lot more, but hopefully senjed shall bring me what I miss…
I got my eidi, New Year present, not just from mum, but later on in the coming days, from some friends also. Norouz, or New Year lasts 13 days, 13 days of holiday in Iran. The last day is the 13th day which is to be spent outdoors, for the unluckiness to vanish. During these 13 days, we have to visit each other. The youngsters go visit the elders first, and then the elderly will visit them back.
One of my eidis was a ticket to Persepolis movie by Marjan Satrapi & Vincent Paronnoud. A beautiful movie, if you haven’t seen it yet you should certainly take time for it.
I watched it last Tuesday, at the Filmhuis Denhaag. Never before, I had seen a movie playing so easy with my emotions. I was laughing a minute, and having tears on my cheeks the moment after. I remembered so much of what Marjan was remembering. War and going down the stairs to the cellar, I must have been four or five years old. I even remembered things that Marjan didn’t remember. I remembered when Khomeini, the former upper leader had died. As a little girl I was happy, thinking that if “they” die one by one, “we” will be free soon…
The movie ended and I came out the movie house. I walked to the tram stop, and waited there till the tram came. While waiting it started snowing, snowing in Norouz, is just something I would have never witnessed in my home town Tehran. I started feeling nostalgic. But not the way Marjan felt in her movie. I know how everything works here, I have a home, know the language and have become fund of Christmas. But still I don’t feel totally at home here, I think if I ever go back to Iran, I would not feel at home back there either. This is just the problem with our (Persian) generation. We don't feel we belong anywhere totally, we feel lost…
But then I heard the man, who was in one of those 24hour Persian-exile-TV channels, saying, “Only 20 minutes left, for the delivery of the New Year.” I jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom to wash my face, then ran back to my old room, wore the new cloths I had just bought for the new year, went to look at the mirror, but the mirror was not there and I remembered that I have moved all my stuff to my own place… I ran to mum’s bedroom and bumped into my little sister who had not changed yet. “Come on we don’t have much time…”, and the man followed as if he wanted to warn my sister too, “Only 10 minutes left, for the delivery of the New Year”, I ran to the room and checked myself out, and I was ok. I came back from the room, slowly, mum was standing next to the 7sin table; the table with 7 symbolic things all starting with Persian letter S, called sin. There was the sabze, pea or wheat than has been put in water some weeks ago and have grown and sprouted, as a symbol of rebirth; then there was my beloved samanou, sweet brown pudding of wheat germ symbolizing affluence; the sour somagh, sumac berry symbolizing sunrise; senjed, dried fruit of the oleaster tree symbolizing the one thing I am missing in my life: love; sir, garlic symbolizing medicine; serke, vinegar symbolizing patience; sib, apple symbolizing beauty & health. Of course and as usual there were all the things that do belong in the 7sin table but did not start with a sin, the mirror symbolizing honesty, different Persian pastries (like baqlava or “shirni nokhodchi” which is just to die for) symbolizing sweet moments, candles symbolizing light and happiness, colored and painted eggs (same as in Easter holiday) symbolizing fertility, a bowl with a goldfish in it symbolizing life, and a holy book (I always put Sohrab Sepehri’s poetry book 8ketab, religious people put the Quran, or Avesta - Zaraostrianist's book- ) as always mum had put the Shahnameh. I was ready to start, and was wondering why they call it delivering New Year, so if that was delivering it, is the man on TV the delivery man? They started the countdown of “30, 29, 28,” … We are suppose to all sit at the table of 7sin, my brother is at work though, when the year is delivered, he will be working. In a traditional way, it would mean that he will be working throughout the next year; instead I will be with the family celebrating all the time because I sat at the table, I would be clean and fresh, dolled up in new cloths… yeah right!
In reality I would work my B** off studying and most of the time I would look like hell either at the university or at my own house. I would not spend much time with my family even if I wanted to, the man interrupted me, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Happy New Year” we stood up hugged and kissed each other. I missed someone. My little sister took a shirni nokhodchi, we are suppose to eat one of each food present on table, my first choice was senjed, though I love samanou a hell lot more, but hopefully senjed shall bring me what I miss…
I got my eidi, New Year present, not just from mum, but later on in the coming days, from some friends also. Norouz, or New Year lasts 13 days, 13 days of holiday in Iran. The last day is the 13th day which is to be spent outdoors, for the unluckiness to vanish. During these 13 days, we have to visit each other. The youngsters go visit the elders first, and then the elderly will visit them back.
One of my eidis was a ticket to Persepolis movie by Marjan Satrapi & Vincent Paronnoud. A beautiful movie, if you haven’t seen it yet you should certainly take time for it.
I watched it last Tuesday, at the Filmhuis Denhaag. Never before, I had seen a movie playing so easy with my emotions. I was laughing a minute, and having tears on my cheeks the moment after. I remembered so much of what Marjan was remembering. War and going down the stairs to the cellar, I must have been four or five years old. I even remembered things that Marjan didn’t remember. I remembered when Khomeini, the former upper leader had died. As a little girl I was happy, thinking that if “they” die one by one, “we” will be free soon…
The movie ended and I came out the movie house. I walked to the tram stop, and waited there till the tram came. While waiting it started snowing, snowing in Norouz, is just something I would have never witnessed in my home town Tehran. I started feeling nostalgic. But not the way Marjan felt in her movie. I know how everything works here, I have a home, know the language and have become fund of Christmas. But still I don’t feel totally at home here, I think if I ever go back to Iran, I would not feel at home back there either. This is just the problem with our (Persian) generation. We don't feel we belong anywhere totally, we feel lost…
P.S. I sent my eidi to the student prisoners. I finally sent all the signatures I had collected for their release to The Presidency, Head of Judiciary, The upper leader's office, and to the head of intelligence service. I wanted to collect more signatures next week but it was time. The eidi is sent...
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Social Economic issues & Iran's parliament elections
At last, a bit of an objective snapshot of Iranian society in the news (watch here). The journalist who was doing the talk on the documentary, chose his words very carefully, I liked it. Even though I am not a fan of Abtahi, and I know that the reformists can't do a thing to change Iran's situation (they had their chance), it still was a good perspective. The interview with Abtahi was just some days before the parliament elections (which once again the opposition boycotted), so beautiful words are a part of the propaganda.
Friday, March 7, 2008
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