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ASHEYAN’S SITE IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.

obama’s message to iran

I’m so glad to see that the U.S. is finally engaging in direct communication with my beloved country and that there is some degree of cultural engagement going on. I would love to read your opinions about this:

slumdog

After hearing about how great a movie ‘Slumdog Millionare’ was, my husband and I decided we had to see it for ourselves. Yes, it’s a good movie and if you have the chance to see it, you will enjoy it. As we left the theatre, those around us were whispering how wonderful a movie it was and people were filing out with lingering smiles on their faces. But other than the main story line, we wondered how much of the subtlety the general english-speaking and American audience would understand. Could you understand what it meant for those children to live in a slum if you have never smelled the stench? Or to understand the ultimate achievement of Jamal if you have not witnessed how the impoverished are abused? Could they understand how cruel the child begger mobs are until a legless child holds out his hand to you for change?

where the hell is matt?

A testament to humankind, kindness and compassion.  This is what life is all about. With best wishes to all of you for the new year:

scattered thoughts

As I was walking home from campus the other night, the beautiful sound of the Islamic call to prayer, the Azan, filled the entire UC Berkeley plaza. Surprise gave way to happiness as I the entire campus scene before me changed with the rhythm of the prayer. Couples holding hands, undergraduates passing out flyers, the movement of the leaves of the trees all seemed to be in harmony with the music. As a practicing Muslim, there have been many times in my life where the true depth of Islam and its protective embrace have really touched my soul. That night was perhaps the most mystical and beautiful of them all. 

As I continued on my home and as the prayer gradually faded away, I slowly began to become aware of the fact that there are very few, if any, places on this earth where religions, races, and beliefs of all kinds are not only tolerated, but embraced whole-heartedly. While the call to prayer may certainly have not been welcomed by many individuals on the UC Berkeley campus, it did increase awareness and knowledge of the faith. The recent election of a black man as the President of the United States, while too certainly not embraced by all, has defied stereotypes, opened new spaces for dialogue, and renewed hope for those marginalized individuals who believed that they could never make it. Yes, it is a time of hope here, a time of prayer for better things to come. What are your thoughts?

happy halloween!

Happy Halloween to all!

 

This is going to be a particularly exciting Halloween here in America, 4 days before the presidential elections. I suspect many will dress as one of the candidates. The talk of the town is who to vote for and what to do if the other gets elected. Here in California, many are wondering if they want to vote for legalizing gay marriage in the state and argue about details of the existing abortion laws. We are going to have a highly political Halloween this year as we fasten our seatbelts and impatiently wait for the outcome on November 4^th.

 

Photo courtesy of happyhalloween

game of your dream

We had a football game between UC Berkeley and UCLA today.  Typically, these games have quite an impact on everything in town, most importantly transportation and parking become almost impossible.  How lively it is to fight for winning, to have a favorite team, and to show your support for something you relate to.  Today, while I work at a café next to the football stadium in Berkeley, I am witnessing hundreds of students and alumni from both universities walk by wearing UCLA or Berkeley shirts, hats, or shorts.  Many have brought their children, and of course the children are wearing shirts with the name and colors of their parents’ favorite school.  As I write, Berkeley’s marching band passes by with the loudest drums and a few hundred uniformed students marching Bancroft Avenue while the crowd waves at them with open smiles.  I am automatically a part of the excitement as I hear that Berkeley has won the game: 41 by 22.  Why do I care? What is it that is so exciting about being a part of a community united for a purpose, a community that has a team and is relating to that team to feel better or to fight against something in common?  Would I be disappointed in Berkeley if she had lost the game? Perhaps but I think not for long; I would probably continue smiling and congratulate the UCLA folks passing by.

 

 

 Photo courtesy of nybox6

I recently had a job interview in England and did not get the job.  When I was invited to interview for a faculty position that seemed to be a dream job at the time, I remember getting extremely nervous to even attend the interview fearing for the outcome.  I wished I had not applied for the job at all and thought it was too early for me to do this as I was not prepared and not even close to graduating.  My father told me something that completely changed my attitude, which is why I want to talk about sports.  He said: “this interview is like a football match of your dream.  You are invited to play in your national team against another excellent team.  What matters is that you play for the sake of playing, the excitement, the glory of the game in itself – pay no attention to the results.  Life is not about the outcome, it’s about the game.  You will go and you will play your best and will enjoy the game regardless of the results. Do not pre-judge, judge, or post-judge the outcome.  Just play…”

walking through the streets of cambridge

I spent a week in the UK and returned a few days ago.  I got to travel around a bit and see London, Cambridge, and Oxford.  It was a lovely trip and I had a wonderful time, ignoring the incredibly high cost of everything in Europe.  London is a crowded city which reminded me of some areas of New York City but much older.  It was nice to see so many old structures throughout the country and not fear what would happen to them in the case of an earthquake.  Earthquakes are not a big threat to England and you can see many old (as old as about 600-800 years) structures everywhere. 

 

The architecture was breathtaking in many areas.  I can say confidently that Cambridge is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to.  While walking in narrow streets with old buildings, restaurants, and coffee shops you might see a door open to something that looks like a regular building. But once you look through the opened door, you see a beautiful garden behind the wall and a huge castle-like structure far away, all hidden when you walk through these lovely streets. Another amazing part of this trip was the opportunity to dine at one of the colleges in Cambridge with the department of engineering.  Harry Potter is real in Cambridge and Oxford.  They have kept most of the traditions alive, dining in gowns, a drum to start, words in Latin by the master to start the feast, professors sitting higher than the students, it’s all real.

Cambridge, UK — Photo courtesy of bugbog.com

i am home

 

Playing ping-pong in South Tehran. All rights reserved.

 

“Manata, tell me, where do you like more, Iran or America?”
“I like both the same.”
“Yes, but where would you rather live?”

As an Iranian who has lived the majority of her life in America, I have been asked this question more times than I can recount by family and friends in Iran. It is not a simple question and the answer entails a deeper understanding of the concepts of home, location, and identity. These motifs are interwoven in the daily lives of those Iranian émigrés too assimilated in the host country to return to the land of their birth, too “foreign” to ever feel at “home”. Further embedded in this question are the intricacies associated with a life in exile. Feelings of nostalgia, marginality, and longing for return often characterize such persons who leave their homelands by force, voluntarily, or by necessity of circumstance.

happy wednesday

Eid ul-Fitr mubarak to those of you who observe Ramadan. Happy Rosh Hashanah to those starting the Jewish New Year today. Happy Navratri to those of you who are Hindu. And a blessed and happy Wednesday to everyone. Please take today to observe the common threads that runs through us all.

 

soulful

A beautiful song to the end of a beautiful day. I came across this soulful song by the young Iranian artist, Mohsen Namjoo, a few days ago and have not been able to stop listening to it since. In the most humble of settings, Namjoo sings directly to you and although you may not understand his words, you cannot help but feel the depth of the emotion behind each word.

the good, the bad and the ugly

Mother and daughter preparing tea in Lavasan, Iran. All rights reserved.

He let his mind drift as he stared at the city, half slum, half paradise.  How could a place be so ugly and violent, yet beautiful at the same time?

-Chris Abani, Graceland

I came across this quote tonight while reading a book on poverty and the growth of slums worldwide. The quote really struck me because it reminded me of how much we judge people and places by their external appearances.  It has always been a (optimistic) belief of mine that in order to appreciate the beauty of anything, we have to take time to really see. But it seems that as we mature, it becomes more and more difficult to see the good. We start to lose a little bit of the optimism that we had when we were young when we see that despite our best efforts, we are powerless to bring an end to the bad: poverty, violence, death, cruelty, and struggles for money and power.

But reading this quote has reminded me yet again that the ugliness of life is a part of life itself, and it may even be this very ugliness of life that helps create life’s beauty. I saw a lot of the ugly life during my research this summer. But within the slums and villages that I went to, I also had the blessing to see the simple acts of kindness and love that make it all worthwhile: mothers and daughters preparing afternoon tea together, young cherry pickers laughing and working together, keeping each other company on a hot summer day, and strangers preparing sweet sherbets and desserts for visiting researchers that stumble upon their tiny homes embedded deep within the hillsides of Tehran.

iran’s education race

An interesting article for Asheyan …

SPECIAL REPORT: THE EDUCATION RACE
Published Aug 9, 2008
Aug. 18-25, 2008 issue
http://www.newsweek.com/id/151684

 

The Star Students of the Islamic Republic
Forget Harvard—one of the world’s best undergraduate colleges is in Iran.

 

 

By Afshin Molavi | NEWSWEEK
Stanford University‘s Electrical Engineering Department were startled when a group of foreign students aced the notoriously difficult Ph.D. entrance exam, getting some of the highest scores ever. That the whiz kids weren’t American wasn’t odd; students from Asia and elsewhere excel in U.S. programs. The surprising thing, say Stanford administrators, is that the majority came from one country and one school: Sharif University of Science and Technology in Iran.
Stanford has become a favorite destination of Sharif grads. Bruce A. Wooley, a former chair of the Electrical Engineering Department, has said that’s because Sharif now has one of the best undergraduate electrical-engineering programs in the world. That’s no small praise given its competition: MIT, Caltech and Stanford in the United States, Tsinghua in China and Cambridge in Britain.
Sharif’s reputation highlights how while Iran makes headlines for President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s incendiary remarks and its nuclear showdown with the United States, Iranian students are developing an international reputation as science superstars. Stanford’s administrators aren’t the only ones to notice. Universities across Canada and Australia, where visa restrictions are lower, report a big boom in the Iranian recruits; Canada has seen its total number of Iranian students grow 240 percent since 1985, while Australian press reports point to a fivefold increase over the past five years, to nearly 1,500.
Iranian students from Sharif and other top schools, such as the University of Tehran and the Isfahan University of Technology, have also become major players in the international Science Olympics, taking home trophies in physics, mathematics, chemistry and robotics. As a testament to this newfound success, the Iranian city of Isfahan recently hosted the International Physics Olympiad—an honor no other Middle Eastern country has enjoyed. That’s because none of Iran’s neighbors can match the quality of its scholars…

 

To view the full article: click here

water

Washing dishes in the village of Lavason, Iran. All rights reserved.

Let’s not muddy the water.
Imagine that close by a dove
is drinking from it,
or in a distant grove a finch
is washing its wings in it,
or in some village it fills a storage jar.

Let’s not muddy the water.
Perhaps this flowing stream runs
by the foot of a poplar tree
and eases some heart’s grief.
A dervish, perhaps,
has moistened his crust in it.

A young woman stood on its bank—
the water doubled her beauty.
Let’s not muddy the water.

How delicious this water is!
How refreshing this stream!
Those people who live upstream,
how fortunate they are!
May their springs be ever fresh,
their cows always fertile!
I haven’t seen their village,
But surely, God’s foot is on
their threshing floor and
the moonlight there illuminates
the width of their words.
The walls are low in the village upstream.
Blue there is really blue.
When buds blossom, they know, those people.
What a village it must be!
May its streets be filled with music!

Those people by the stream
Have left it clear.
Let’s not muddy the water.

-Sohrab Sepehri

tale of “change”!

My aunt sent me this letter to share with our blog readers.  It is about hope and change and has a strong message for all of us, whether you are from New York City, Tehran, Tokyo, Cairo, London, or Los Angeles, even though the topic is on the existing situation in the United States.  Enjoy reading it and send us your own thoughts and experiences:

——————————

On the 28th of June 2008 I made all the possible arrangements to attend a party in Berkeley for Obama. I wanted to participate in that party to unite with the community I felt a part of. Being with the people who are seeking change; who are promoting dignity for mankind irrespective of their race and ethnic back ground. The thought of this understanding coming from American people really excited me for the wonderful world my children and their generation are going to have ahead of them. This all had come at the time when they had lost hope for the future. People of this country were about to have compassion for themselves and for the people of the world. How incredible.

The people at the party were obviously mostly the elite group from Berkeley, fit, outspoken, and open minded of all ages. The refreshments were generously presented along with very efficient display of stickers, pamphlets, T-shirts, etc.

It was a wonderful feeling to be sitting with this group under the same roof. The speakers informed us of all that was happening and all that is needed to be done in the few months to come (just a few months). The questions and answers followed the introduction and it gave way to comments about international affairs.

As one of the speakers started commenting and joking about Iran, I found myself feeling very confused. What is going on here? As the jokes about my country continued, I felt as if the walls of the room were closing in on me. I felt even dizzier when I looked around and saw these well intentioned people, or so they seemed in the beginning, as the same prejudiced people they are trying to oppose.

My confusion continued to the point of absolute disappointment not because I was being insulted as an Iranian and not because once more I was witnessing a great civilization like Iran was being mocked by ignorance, but mostly because I was loosing hope.

the real life

I sit here writing tonight from a friend’s apartment in the north of Tehran, Iran.  For a moment, I almost feel as if I’m in the States.  I get to watch Oprah talking to Dr. Oz on TV. The AC is blasting. A can of coca-cola is waiting for me in the fridge.  How strange it is to be in a completely different coutry in the so-called “developing world”, but feel as if you’re sitting in your own living room in northern California. How globalized our world has become.

I’ve been putting off writing a post for quite some time now, mainly because I’ve been waiting for a noteworthy event to happen that would be interesting to everyone.  However, Riad’s beautiful comment on my last post touched me and triggered some thoughts that I thought I would share with all of you tonight.

calling for knowledge

 

Pupils at a primary school in the Philippine capital, Manila, demand that their teachers come back to teach them after learning of its closure to make way for a new sports complex.

kuoban

A friend sent me this clip from a performance by Kuoban ensemble (formerly 40-daf) in Tehran.  It is a combination of Kurdish and Luri music. We recently had a trip to Sanandaj in Kurdestan.  The nature, people, music, and costumes are breath-taking and fascinating.  Delightful yet traditional, proud, and strong. Enjoy:

 

protecting children

This morning I was extremely saddened and outraged to read the article “Pakistani boy ‘killed by teacher” on BBC.  http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7426980.stm

The story is about a seven year old boy who was hung upside down from a fan for not memorizing his Quran lessons, and as a result of this punishment, died.  The teacher has been arrested, but in no way is this justice for the young boy and his family.

I have visited a couple of these religious seminary schools because, lets face it, it is where you will find  the poorest of the poor children- and in the same breath, they are some of the most determined and gifted children.  I have heard them singing songs and beautifully reciting melodic pages after pages from memory of arabic text from the Quran (try it, it isn’t easy).  They have sat in my lap and played with my clothes.  Many of them come to these schools from hundreds of miles away, at a chance to learn and have a future.  They return to their families only a few times a year, an experience I only endured upon leaving for college at 18.  From the schools I have visited, the children are well cared for, well fed, and happy.  In these schools they have a purpose and are shielded from many ills that perpetuate the cycle of poverty on the streets and in the villages.  Included in their religious education were subjects such as math, languange and geography.  Some who graduate become teachers themselves or learned scholars in their small villages.  But just as we would expect for our own, these kids should have even better. 

Reading the article about this young boy has left a hole in my heart.  Children must be protected and safe from abuse before any enrichment process can begin.

This is a picture I took at one such school.  These are orphaned girls.  They seem shy in the picture since for many of them, this was the first picture anyone had ever taken of them.  Afterwards, they swarmed around me to see the digital image and giggled to each other about how they looked. 

ignorance!

On the way to a conference last week, I was faced with a more or less challenging situation: an intense dialogue among a few colleagues about the significance of different cultures in world history and development.  This is a complex topic and it’s hard to make simple conclusions on the matter.  I want to write about this experience though, not because I am after advertising or defending a particular nation or want to offend others.  This is simply my way of alleviating pain after hearing highly ignorant and uneducated remarks by supposedly educated individuals in the United States.

 

I was faced with the question of “who contributed the most to our history” or “whose work we should look for when studying the history of art, philosophy, poetry, architecture, literature, and so on.”

I have often noticed that Europe stands out in the American version of history in many different fields.  For example, I happened to take introductory courses to political philosophy and architecture history at Cornell University as an undergraduate student.  I can confidently say that the majority of topics covered were related to Rome and Greece and some times Great Britain. I, like many other students, left our class thinking that these concepts were first introduced by these nations only and others were mostly followers.  Plato’s Republic was introduced to us as a book that marked the beginning of philosophy and political dialogue and such ideas seemed to begin in a society where thinking and logic were encouraged for the first time. Democracy was shown to be the most mesmerizing concept in a world of chaos. We were introduced to every famous architectural piece in Europe and briefly reviewed a few others (i.e. Ancient Egypt, Japan, and India) in the last couple weeks of the class.  Even specialized courses tend to be biased and negative towards eastern nations, following the language used in ancient Greek historical records.  

 

I was faced with the same dilemma in the car last week. 

 

Cyrus’ Cylinder: Considered as History’s First Declaration of Human Rights
in Ancient Times is today displayed at the British Museum.
©British Museum, London

 

oblivious

Young street child selling fortunes in Iran. Picture courtesy of Shapour, flickr.com

I am getting ready to embark on a long trip to Iran this summer in order to begin fieldwork for my doctoral research. This will be the first trip that I will be taking in my life that will be solely devoted to observing how the less fortunate cope with the circumstances of their lives and struggle to make a better future for themselves. As I begin to pack my bags, though, I can’t help but wonder what they will think of my research. How will they respond to an outsider watching them, eagerly taking notes, and eagerly trying to learn about their everyday struggles? And can the writings and musings of one young idealist really make a big difference in their lives?

shoes

We all need a good pair of shoes 🙂  Enjoy this picture!

A blacksmith in Afghanistan’s southern city of Kandahar makes shoes for a donkey.

taare zameen par

Last weekend I watched a wonderful movie by Amir Khan called, “Taare zameen par”, which loosely translated means ‘stars on earth’. The production, acting and dialogue are wonderful and comparable in creativity and quality to hit independent movies. The story is about a young boy with a learning disability and his parents frustrations due to his explosive behavioral problems. I was so pleased to see a mainstream Bollywood movie tackling such a social issue with understanding and grace. Please watch it. I would love to hear your comments.

appearances

 

The young man didn’t say a word when I greeted him with the customary salaam. Nothing as I reached across for the warm loaf of barbari bread that he had just taken out of the tanoor and thanked him for his hard work. Complete silence as I handed him my crumpled tomans and asked for change. How rude, I thought, as I slowly turned my back ready to bring the warm and savory loaf to my house. “Miss.” I turned around. “I’m sorry, but I have a stutter. Thank you for coming.” I smiled and walked away, grasping ever more tightly to the bread that warmed my heart.

baby with 2 faces

I was speechless when I read the news.  I only hope this baby’s parents will allow doctors to check her internal organs and make sure surgery is not needed for her health.  It is interesting how different communities look at an event/outcome from different angles based on old beliefs/traditions and that an extremely negative situation in one society may be viewed as a blessing in another society. 

 

Tribune wire reports

12:24 PM CDT, April 8, 2008

 

SAINI SUNPURA, India – A baby with two faces was born in a northern Indian village, where she is doing well and is being worshipped as the reincarnation of a Hindu goddess, her father said Tuesday.The baby, Lali, apparently has an extremely rare condition known as craniofacial duplication, where a single head has two faces. All of Lali’s facial features are duplicated except for her ears–she has two. Otherwise, she has two noses, two pairs of lips and two pairs of eyes.

“My daughter is fine–like any other child,” said Vinod Singh, 23, a poor farm worker.
Lali has caused a sensation in the dusty village of Saini Sunpura, 25 miles east of New Delhi. When she left the hospital, eight hours after a normal delivery on March 11, she was swarmed by villagers, said Sabir Ali, the director of Saifi Hospital.