Tag Archives: iran

Nowruz

Main Piece:

The following conversation is transcribed from a conversation between me (HS) and my co-worker/informant (MK).

HS: So can you tell me about the Persian New Year?

MK: Of course! So we celebrate the beginning our our spring as the beginning of our new year. We call it Persian New Year or “Nowruz,” which translates to “New day.” The celebrations usually happen between March 19th and March 23rd. There’s a specific day, time and second that we go into our new year, much like the American New Year. So this year, for us, it was March 20th at 7:40AM PST. It sounds like a weird time but it’s because we’re here in California. Iran is almost 12 hours ahead of us and so the that time makes a lot more sense there. So anyways, a week before the new year, we get new, fresh bills as gifts and we set a table with seven items that start with an “s.” The item spellings are from Farsi and not English so they’re not what you would expect, like apples and garlic, for example.

HS: Do these items have any sort of deeper meaning?

MK: Oh yes. So first of all, each item starts with the Persian letter, “seen,” which again, is like the English letter, “s.” Each item corresponds to the seven creations and the seven holy immortals protecting them. The Haft-Seen table and the items on it are kind of a representation of nature.

Background:

My informant is a coworker from my job. She has the same role as me and so we spend a lot of time talking in-between customers. She immigrated to the United States from Tehran, the capital of Iran, when she was 16 years old and has a lot of family here that she enjoys continuing her traditions with. She has enjoyed telling me a lot about her culture and traditions in our time working together.

Context:

So we were just talking in-between customers when I became a little curious. I work in an area that has a large Persian population, and according to my coworker, the concentration of Persians in this area is second only to Los Angeles. So back in March about a week before Persian New Year, I noticed that a lot of her Persian clientele were coming in to buy new one-dollar, five-dollar, and ten-dollar bills. I was curious about why this was happening, and so I asked my coworker about it.

Thoughts:

My first thought when I heard about this tradition, was what religion is this derived from? My immediate assumption was Islam, as that was the only religion that I was familiar with from the Middle East, besides Judaism and Christianity, of course. What I found was a lot more interesting. The tradition is derived from Zoroastrianism. I had never heard of this religion, and so I thought maybe it was some fringe religion that was particular to the region that my informant was from, but I could not have been further from wrong. Zoroastrianism predates both Christianity and Islam. Furthermore, the religion has a large following; 300 million people celebrate Nowruz every year. It is important to note though, that Zoroastrianism is considered to more of a cultural tradition in a lot of social circles, including that of my informant. The tradition of Nowruz, for example, while having its roots in its own ancient belief system, is widely celebrated by Muslims and Christians. The “book of wisdom” that is placed on the Haft-Seen table is even considered to be interchangeable. People place the Quran, Bible, and other books such as the Avesta on the table. This sparked a lot of curiosity and interest about this topic and left me with a lot of questions. Where do you draw the line between religion and cultural belief?

For an interesting article showing the popularity of Nowruz, even during the COVID pandemic, see:

Kaffashi A, Jahani F. Nowruz travelers and the COVID-19 pandemic in Iran. Infection control and hospital epidemiology. 2020;41(9):1121-1121. doi:10.1017/ice.2020.152

“Cheshm Zadan” (The Evil Eye) – Persian Superstition

Description of Informant

NV (75) is a retired school teacher born in Abadan, Iran. She went to boarding school in England from 1956-1963, moving to American for college afterward. She always remembers her arrival in the states, as it was the day before Kennedy was assassinated. Currently, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, California.

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Context of Interview

The informant, NV, sits on a loveseat, feet planted on a brightly colored Persian rug. She is opposite the collector, BK, her grandson. Most text spoken in Farsi is rewritten phonetically using Roman characters and italicized. Some Farsi is translated and italicized for efficiency.

Interview

BK: Tell me about your superstitions.

NV: Oh! I have a lot of superstitions. You don’t want to hear about all that. Oh, I always say “pinch your butt!” That’s an Iranian one, “pinch your butt.” I say that all the time. For instance, if [my daughter] is saying something nice about [my granddaughter], I’ll tell her “pinch your butt! pinch your butt!” so straight away she pinches her butt. If you compliment someone, but you don’t want something bad to happen to them, you say “pinch your butt.” Or at least I do. And now [my daughter] does it, everybody does it, but it comes from Iran. 

NV: It’s a Persian thing. Cheshm zadan. Do you know cheshm zadan? That’s a very superstitious thing in Iran. Like, they say some people have the “Evil Eye.” You know? Yeah, the evil eye. Like if somebody looks at you and— for instance, we had gone to [visit] my dad’s side of the family in Tehran. And that night, they had complimented [my daughter] a lot. “Oh what a cutie she is!” She was like 3 years old. “How cute!” That very night, she walked in the middle of the night to come from her bed to our bed, and she hit the corner of her forehead and split it open and we had to have three stitches. We had to take her to the emergency room for three stitches! From that day on, everybody said “cheshmesh zadan“. They kept saying that, in that house when they were saying she was so cute, cheshmesh zadan. So someone gave her the evil eye and that’s why that bad thing happened. That’s a very big superstition with Iranians.

BK: How does pinch my butt come into it?

NV: No idea! They just say “pinch your butt!” Like in English you’d say cross your fingers. Pinch your butt, or koonat rah veshnkoon begeer.

BK: And that’s how you “undo” the evil eye?

NV: Yeah. Now, some people, they believe that if you give a compliment you should follow it with mashallah. You know, like, if you say “this child is so beautiful, mashallah” then you’re taking away the evil eye. The thing that, like [my cousin] she really believes in the evil eye. You know the eye, like the blue stone, she’s got it all over her house. That’s a big superstition. They got it hanging over the doors, they got it all over. I don’t have any of those. But this cheshm zadan is really something.

NV: My cousin is known for giving the eye. My mom had bought these fancy stockings from England. I mean really nice, with decorative holes in them, top of the fashion, right? She’s sitting there at a party, and her legs are crossed and looking gorgeous. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then my cousin says “What beautiful socks you have!” And that very minute— everybody laughed their heads off— that very minute, it got a run in it. You know what a run is? It tore. You know the stockings that are nylon? If you cut a little bit it just *tearing noise* starts to run, it messes it up. She’s known for having the evil eye. “Cheshm mezanan!”

Collector’s Reflection

چشم زدن (phonetically cheshm zadan) is one of the greatest of Persian superstitions. The term literally means to glare, but free translates to jinx someone/something. If you compliment someone without protecting the compliment, you risk jinxing it, causing something bad to happen to the referenced trait (e.g. compliment the face = facial injury, compliment the socks = socks are ruined). The jinx concept is often referred to as the Evil Eye, and shares a space with similar Mediterranean traditions (many are familiar with the blue glass evil eyes that decorate many middle eastern and mediterranean homes). An individual known for jinxing or giving the evil eye (such as the informant’s cousin) would be said to have “salty eyes” (چشمش شور, cheshmesh shooreh).

There are many ways to dispel of the evil eye, such as the aforementioned religious (ماشالله) mashallah or the secular pinching of one’s butt (كونت را وشگون بگير, koonat rah veshnkoon begeer). The latter is the equivalent of the American crossing of one’s fingers to block a bad omen/jinx. One may also burn esphand (wild rue seeds), the smoke of which is said to cleanse the air and prevent bad omens, such as the eye.

Another evil eye story comes from my (the collector’s) other grandmother. When my father was born, she began producing an incredible amount of milk. She was the envy of the town for this display of fertility. One day, she was out with a friend when her breasts started to leak. Out of surprise, her friend exclaimed, “Wow! You have so much milk!” And that was the end of it. That evening, she didn’t have enough to feed her son, and they had to run to the market in the middle of the night for powdered milk. From then on, she barely produced a drop. They said her friend gave her the evil eye, and jinxed her.

“Two in the air, four on the ground…” – Farsi Riddle

Description of Informant

MV (79) is a retired engineer, chess master, and violinist from Tehran, Iran. At 19, he came to America to study at Ohio Northern and remained in the states for his adult life (Missouri and California). While in Iran, he lived a very traditional life under religious parents; this continues to influence his values and attitudes.

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Riddle

Original Text: ! دو در هوا، چهار در زمين، اِه خربزه

Phonetic: Dōh dar havah, chahar dar zameen, eh kharbōzeh!

Transliteration: Two in the air, four on the ground, hey melon!

Free Translation: [See Collector’s Reflection for Explanation]

Collector’s Reflection

At first, the riddle seems to make no sense, until you understand the pun hidden within. The Farsi word for melon (خربزه, kharbōzeh) also contains the words for donkey/ass (خر, khar-) and goat (بز, -bōz). Thus, the riddle really says: “Two in the air, four on the ground, hey ass/idiot— it’s a goat!” The “two in the air” refers to the goat’s horns and the “four on the ground” to its feet.

The phrase functions as an insult riddle, wherein the individual playing the joke intends to trick or demean the intelligence of their victim. The individual receiving the riddle is confused by melon at first. Then, the riddler will repeat the last line “eh kharbōzeh!”, but with added emphasis and spacing to make the double entendre clear (e.g. “eh khar! …bōzeh!”) The victim(s) quickly realize that they have been insulted. If you’re in good company, you’ll get a few laughs. But be wary— calling someone “khar” in Iran is a major insult.

Context of Use

The riddle is used among peers, often in a group setting, where one individual is unaware of the double entendre and made out as a fool; comedy at one’s expense. You would generally use the phrase among close friends with positive rapport, where no offense will be taken.

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Context of Interview

The informant, MV, sits on a love seat, feet planted on a brightly colored Persian rug. He is opposite the collector, BK, his grandson. Text spoken in Farsi is translated and italicized. Instances of the riddle have been replaced by [the riddle].

Interview

MV: For instance, wasn’t a joke, but for instance riddles, like [the riddle]. Something like this, for instance, they were goat, trying to identify the goat that had to horns. So they say “two up” and “four down.” And then, do you know what kharbōzeh is? Something melon. It’s some type of melon. And it also means “hey khar”— or donkey, it is a goat! *laughing* Something like this: [the riddle]. If someone hears you, they think you are just saying melon! Until you separate it.

BK: Can you describe a context where you would’ve told this joke?

MV: Children among [themselves]. One child, who wanted to mess with another child, would say [the riddle]. The guy would think you are just saying melon so they get confused, but say “eh khar— bōzeh! This is a goat that I’m talking about, with two horns.

“What should I say, if saying nothing would be better?” – Farsi Proverb

Description of Informant

MV (79) is a retired engineer, chess master, and violinist from Tehran, Iran. At 19, he came to America to study at Ohio Northern and remained in the states for his adult life (Missouri and California). While in Iran, he lived a very traditional life under religious parents. He has embedded many of the traditional views of his youth into his personal values

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Phrase

Original Text: چه گويم كه ناگفتنم بهتره؟

Phonetic: Cheh gooyam keh nah gōftanam behtareh?

Transliteration: What can I say that it is better not to say?
Free Translation: What should I say, if saying nothing would be better?

Context of Use

The phrase is a playfully solemn response to “How are you?” It works to inform the asker that the speaker is sad/down, but also that they aren’t interested in discussing their emotions with the present party. It is most often used between friends or peers. 

It is also a proverb, serving a similar function to the English “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Unlike the English phrase, it is not directed outward, and instead focuses on the speaker. I.E. If I don’t have anything positive to say, why should I speak?

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Context of Interview

The informant, MV, sits on a loveseat, feet planted on a brightly colored Persian rug. He is opposite the collector, BK, his grandson. Text spoken in Farsi is translated and italicized. Instances of the phrase have been replaced by [the phrase].

Interview

MV: *muttering* [the phrase]… One of the things, for instance, we used to say… somebody says “How are you, what are you doing?”, you say [the phrase]. Um… meaning that, for instance, you see a friend who asks “How are you doing?” and if you don’t feel like good you say [the phrase]. What should I say if—  if I keep quiet—  would be much better?

BK: Who would you say this to? If your boss asked “How are you?”— 

MV: No, it was when we were teenagers. Just among friends. Not with parents.

BK: Was this something funny or something serious?

MV: Nah we just— we’d just say he doesn’t feel good but he doesn’t wanna talk about it. Then they know not to pressure you.

Collector’s Reflection

In Iran during the 1940s and 1950s, when MV was a teenager, discussion of emotions between men, even peers, was extremely taboo. Men were not encouraged to express themselves, and were expected to remain stoic. The phrase was invented as a tool to allow young men to inform their peers of their emotional state, while remaining distant. 

MV is an interesting man. He embodied traditional Iranian masculinity well into his 60s: stoic, serious, commanding respect. All this despite living in America since his 20s. Admittedly, American masculinity standards don’t exactly scream “vulnerability” either. However, when MV retired at the beginning of his 70s, everything changed. He was able to loosen up, smile, joke, we even saw him cry. This once formal and scary man became a teddy bear. One couldn’t imagine him using the phrase now, as he would much rather discuss his emotions. One could read this as a sign of aging, but I consider it to be a sign of the times as well. MV noted that his Iranian friends have all become more comfortable with vulnerability in recent years as it has become more socially acceptable. As the definition of masculinity changes worldwide, perhaps this use of phrase will fade to memory; perhaps not, time will tell.

The phrase will continue to find relevance as a proverb, though it is less regularly used as such.

Sōk Sōk – Iranian Children’s Game

Description of Informant

PK (79) is a small, frail woman with dyed blonde hair and piercing eyes. PK was born and raised in Abadan, Iran in an “Oil Company Family.” OCFs were families whose primary income came from the large British oil company in Iran. They were well compensated and taken care of, living in western-style homes in protected communities. Many OCFs were secular or subscribed to a western religion in favor of Islam. PK immigrated to England in 1976 before coming to America (California) in 1978.

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Context of Interview

The informant, PK, is cooking a traditional Persian stew (khoresh) while describing the custom to the collector, BK, her grandson. Text spoken in Farsi is translated and italicized.

Interview

PK: The neighbors, they were always together [as children]. In the street, they’d group up— they’d become two groups. Now we were tiny, when we were younger— I mean the older kids didn’t bother us but nobody was following us around. You know? We were smaller.

PK: The older kids, like my sister, brother, the older siblings, would group up and play Sōk Sōk. You know Sōk Sōk, right? You go “Sōk Sōk!” One group would stand with their eyes closed and the other group would go, in the streets, and hide somewhere. It was dark too… there were some lights. They’d hide, one person here, one person there, and then… the first group, for instance, would count to 100 and then go after them. And it wasn’t a small place, you really had to look!

PK: Then, for instance, if I saw you I’d yell “Sōk Sōk!”

BK: Ah, so it’s like American hide-and-seek, but with teams?

PK: Yes. Two groups. And it was so fun! At night, with warm weather, everyone running, laughing, running, “Not here!”, “Over there!”, “Hurry quick!”. We go behind the houses… There was no time limit. You went until you found everyone, and then it was the next group’s turn.

BK: If you find someone, do they “join” your team?

PK: Um… no. No, the person you find, they don’t start going after their own team. You have to stay. For instance, if I found you on Belladonna [a street nearby], you would go back to the starting point and wait for everyone to be found.

Collector’s Reflection

Sōk Sōk’s name is a repetition of the Faris word for “bother” or “bug,” in the way that two children may bug each other. It’s relatively harmless, but annoying. The title is recited during gameplay when you find an opponent, almost in a “Gotcha!” style. Thus, it’s almost like saying, “I’m bugging you!” If you’ve been caught, you’re certainly bothered.

The game is reminiscent of many group-based derivations of Hide-and-Seek, such as Sardines or the more complex Relievio [see here for my article on Relievio in Merrimac, Massachusetts]. It is in a unique category of these derivations which focus on speed. Traditional Hide-and-Seek is a relatively slow-paced game, with one seeker and any number of hiders. Sōk Sōk is all about running, yelling, and the speed at which you find the opposing team. Despite the fact that there is no clear advantage or “prize” to finding your opponents faster, there is informal clout that comes as a result of a speedy victory.