Tara Kangarlou - The Heartbeat of Iran: Real Voices of a Country and its People

Real Voices of a Country and Its People

Tara Kangarlou

Copyright 2021 by Tara Kangarlou

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher. Please direct inquires to:

Ig Publishing

Box 2547

New York, NY 10163

www.igpub.com

ISBN: 978-1-63246-20-60

To my beloved Mom & Dad who gave me
the greatest treasure in lifehumanity.

To people, whose existence can only continue through humanity.

by Zeid Raad Al Hussein

W HEN I WAS YOUNGER, I SPENT HOURS reading the incomparable poetry of Al Attar, Hafez, Khayyam, and Saadi. Their observationssome profound, others just playfulfound its way into a lyricism that is still popular with readers throughout the world. And for Iranians everywhere, alongside the ingredients which blend to form their culture, it is the incomparable artistry of their poets which elicits their greatest prideand justifiably so. Indeed, I have never met an Iranian who did not have a deep, almost visceral attachment to the loveliness of words when aligned so properly. And all of its contentwhether literal or allegoricalis ultimately woven into storytelling.

Tara Kangarlous book remains faithful to that tradition, and while she may be a modern globalist living in the West, she is still a daughter of Persia. Written in a style that is free-flowing and smooth, this compilation of highly readable stories stems not just from Taras emotional connection to the country of her forebears, but also her recognition of the stubborn extent to which Iranians are still miscast in the popular perceptions of many living in the West, particularly in the United States.

Those bearded fanatics screaming Death to Israel and the US remain the default image for many living to the west of the Bosporus. So too is the belief that the current Iranian regime is utterly ruthless, executing publicly, for example, those convicted of offenses that took place when they were minors, or threatening the Middle East with disorder and extremism. While some of this may be true, and there are ordinary Iranians who are utterly unsavoryas you would find with people in every countrythere are also many beautiful, complex individuals, many with a nobility of spirit, and almost all worthy of our complete admiration. Taras book uncovers them wonderfully.

I have never been to Iran, but through her simple, intimate, and elegant storytelling, Tara took me to a saffron farm in the now dry farmlands of Khorasan; invited me to have chelow kabob in one of the oldest kabob houses in Tehran; to meet a blind Sunni environmental activist in the southern provinces of Sistan and Baluchestan; and to sit in a classroom in the rural village of Khansar, where the pain and promise of each child mirrors that of millions of other vulnerable children worldwide.

Put another way, Tara vividly conveys all of what she sees, hears, and feelsthe vibrancy of the hues, the warmth of the personalities, their charm, the ambient noises, the scents. This is no monochromatic culture she is dealing with, but an extraordinary kaleidoscope of human experiences, all concentrated in a single geography that was once the home to some of humanitys greatest poets. I hope you enjoy this magnificent book as much as I did.

Zeid Raad Al Hussein

United Nations High Commissioner
for Human Rights, 20142018

T HERE WAS AN HEIRESS SITTING TO MY left, the CEO of a Fortune 100 company to my right. The three of us were engaged in one of those awkward and politically correct conversations at a reception I had been obligated to attend. A casual question about my last name revealed my Iranian background, which led to a brief summary of my upbringing in Tehran. Suddenly, their gazes sharpened, and, as more wine was poured, the looks on the faces of my two dinner companions became increasingly perplexed. In the blink of an eye, I found myself floating in their preconceptions of my birthplace. To them, I was no longer an American, but rather an immigrant who proudly spoke of her Persian heritage and upbringing in Irana country that for much of the Western world is synonymous with rogue behavior, oppression, and turmoil.

In a room where half of the audience were paid to denounce diplomacy and the rest wrote checks, the heiress leaned in curiously and asked, Did you guys escape during the Revolution? Is it dangerous to go back? I mean, it must be so hard to live there as a woman with those things they wear on their heads. Before I was able to answer her, the CEO chimed in with a patronizing question of his own: But how can you speak English so well? You have no accent! Sadly, this wasnt the first time Id heard these kinds of questions.

As a dual national since birth, there is nothing I find more humiliating than having to prove my real identityand theres nothing more terrifying than having that identity questioned by others. After all, what is a real identity, and who gets to define it? I consider myself a proud Iranian and a proud American; I embrace my upbringing in Tehran, my unique education in both countries, and the ability to call two of the worlds most remarkable lands my home. By bridging these two cultures, languages, and mindsets, I have learned that there is so much more that connects us as human beings than what divides us on the global stage.

As was the case at that dinner party, the duality of my identity has often been a subject of scrutiny, tainted with stereotypes and misconceptionsespecially in the United States.

Growing up in my late teens in California, in order to fit into the mold, I frequently had to downplay my Iranian heritagea familiar story for those who have undertaken the immigrant journey. No, I would tell people, my family did not escape a war, nor did they flee Iran after the 1979 revolution; I did not grow up in a desert, nor was I ever forced to walk around the streets wearing a long black veil. Between each one of these stereotypes lays infinite nuances that identify my upbringing and that of millions of other Iranians who live inside the country and beyond.

Its true, these days, as an American journalist I am not the most welcomed person by the hardliners and oppressive government forces in Iran; but that doesnt mean that my friends, family members or ordinary Iranians cant regularly travel back and forth to the country on holidays or for a visit. In other words, in order to understand Iran, one has to understand the ever-present dichotomies and become familiar with the many shades within the everyday fabric of life in the countryshades that are far from monotone, but rather a jarring mix of colors that will often leave you in awe.

One of these particular moments occurred in 2015, when I went back to Iran to cover the historic nuclear deal. Similar to any American or foreign news crew, we had a government designated fixer who was tasked to help guide us around. In reality though, he was our minder, who delicately and oh so cordially shadowed us as we reported the news under the watchful eyes of the Iranian government. Ill never forget my last day in my birth city, when I wanted to take a few personal hours to visit my Dads memorial site in Behesht -e- Zahra, Tehrans main cemetery. Little did I know that I would have to be chaperoned by a pseudo fixer in my home country just so I could visit my fathers grave. Ironically, during the two hour drive to and from the cemetery, and the long walk through the crammed tombstones that were filled with my quiet tears, I somehow managed to see through the young man. We were roughly the same age. In those few hours he made me realize that underneath his guard was a smart, kind, and ambitious person who was only doing this job because of exactly what it wasa job.