Sahar

No matter what was happening, there were get-togethers. We survived through wars, revolutions, and people disappearing that way. That sense of alright, get up, cook something, eat together.

Is there a particular dish from your home kitchen growing up that you remember?

In my childhood there was the Iran-Iraq War. So my family, after a couple years of enduring the bombings in Tehran, fled to a small village by the Caspian Sea. The joke yes we escaped the bombings, but the food was fantastic! Very fresh produce from the villagers — the produce guy, the fisherman guy, the guy who makes dairy at home. Everything was so high quality. The Iranian way is a couple times a week you go to someone’s house and you’re sharing a meal. There was a lot of sharing meals with the locals there, which changed my mom’s cooking.

When did you start cooking?

When I was three years old, as a birthday present, my mom made me an apron, so I had a homemade apron. By age 9 I have a memory of making a whole meal — like I was responsible for a family’s meal that night!

Do you remember what you made?

It was like a potato in egg salad. That’s a very traditional Iranian meal — like what a kid would ask for on her birthday. I came home from school, she gave me the recipe and I made the whole thing. I remember she was like “Why don’t you come outside?” And I responded, “No! I am responsible for this.” Ever since cooking has been my go to for self-care and to create a sense of connection. Now, there are people in my house all the time and a lot of my friends here have made Iranian dishes and had me over. It’s a big part of my life now.

Food is a reflection of my culture. I love that aspect of Josephine — people coming into a refugee’s house, definitely with some preconceived notions, and seeing the family. I make a point of cooking around the Iranian holidays and telling them what it’s like. We had the celebration for Norooz and we had a celebration for the Yalda, which is one of my favorite holidays — the solstice night — and we read poetry together. I think other people enjoy it and it gives me a sense of satisfaction. It’s always so hard to answer “So what is it like to come as a refugee to the US?” It’s through little stories that we encompass our experience.”

Do you remember any other of those small moments?

Well my thing was poetry. As a 15–16 year old I made a poetry book for all of my close friends. For everyone I made a journal for the next year so that they could continue to read the poems that I wrote them.

What I remember from leaving is a lot of missing people, very intensely. Getting out here was such a shock. Being able to just look at people’s faces here — because it’s such a difference in culture. I remember feeling terrified when people were making eye contact. I come from a background where there is a huge divide between genders and also a hierarchy of respecting elders and authority. The small human interactions are the memories I have of completely freezing up and feeling uncomfortable.

It took a very long time for me to feel at home. I’ve always had friends from different cultures, but I came here when I was 16, and the first time I felt an emotional connection in the same way was when I was 23 or something. It took a long time.

What are some moments that you felt connected to the culture that you grew up in?

I think life in the US by in large is very isolating and that’s what I miss. Especially around Iranian holidays, you would see basically all of your acquaintances. Everyone goes to each other’s house. It’s such a thing to visit and know what each other has been going through and how we can support each other. We come around as a community. In Iran, they just need any excuse to be together on the street, dancing, doing stuff together. A football game or something political happening and you’re outraged or something good and you’re happy — that sense of togetherness I feel nostalgic about. But, in some ways, I’ve been able to bring that with me.

What do you think you do here to find that same sense of community connection?

I think I embody the people that knew how to make that happen. I had an auntie who was the person who made our community happen. No matter what was happening, there were get-togethers. We survived through wars, revolutions, and people disappearing that way. That sense of alright, get up, cook something, eat together, have music on, dance, bring all the races together.

Food is a big part of it.

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