Carpets and Cockroaches
Hilary Robinson, Tehran, Sept. 1, 1999
"Mummy do you want to see this?" is a phrase I have come to dread since it usually means that the children have found another large and unusual insect or reptile which has decided to take up residence with us. The last one was a 5 cm lizard swimming in our bathroom toilet. I don't remember any information on dealing with wildlife in the houses in the pre-posting briefings!
It has been almost twelve months since we boarded the flight at Heathrow under the stern gaze of elderly Iranian ladies in their black hejab, and it finally dawned on me that we were really going to Tehran. In the rush of posting confirmation letters, passports, medicals, visas, shopping, pre-posting briefings, more shopping, packers, rental agents, even more shopping and the infamous inventory it was easy to forget about our ultimate destination. I had very little time to read about Iran and everyone we told greeted the news with sympathy and horror (apart from one or two notable and grateful remembered exceptions). In retrospect it was probably far better to arrive without pre-conceived ideas of our host country. As it was, I arrived at the Tehran airport at 5.30 a.m. clutching the children with one hand and my scarf with the other. Our oldest child (6 at the time) summed up the children's attitude of supreme indifference to the upheaval of their world (which has persisted ever since) by commenting that apart from there being more cars and different crows it really was much the same.
Since being here we have had to adjust to a very different culture and language - not only of the country itself but of the slightly artificial diplomatic community. On the one hand our social life is better than it has ever been but at the same time we find it hard to make time to get together with friends just for the sake of it. While Tehran has become home for us it is still difficult to really relate to the community here without an understanding of the language. I can't listen to the local news or watch local TV. Presently I am still functionally illiterate in Farsi so most signposts and adverts are beyond me. It is unsettling to drive into what I think is a large park past a sign that might say recreational park or military shooting range!! It feels as if we live somewhat removed from the rest of the city without being able to really join in the local community. As such, venturing beyond our immediate neighbourhood still involves a certain amount of anxiety and apprehension.
One of the hardest things for me to adjust to is being - as it says in my passport - a dependent. As a professional woman with a well-established career in Canada it can be extremely frustrating to be someone's "other half". To some extent this is also compounded by the male domination of the culture here. Even when I was invited on the strength of my knowledge and experience to talk to a group of university professors and my husband came with me as the embassy representative they addressed him more than me. Without a paying job, it is assumed that coffee mornings and play groups are my sole entertainment and intellectual stimulation. The interruption of my career and the extent to which I may or may not be able to work, as well as the financial implications, are a constant source of stress.
Our children were one, three and six years old when we arrived and two of them have already spent a year at the lycée. They settled in easily and are enjoying life here. Taking them to school every day has been a source of new friends for me and a forum for gaining information on the local customs and environment. Children here are indulged and highly valued and ours are no exception. They love the attention they get in the parks, although initially it was somewhat overwhelming for our youngest. They are more outgoing and confident than when we arrived and are now happy to talk to just about anyone - which in itself worries me from time to time. The children have learnt to make their own fun in unusual places. A shopping trip to a carpet warehouse became a visit to a giant indoor playground climbing on and hiding behind giant piles of carpets. I have learnt not to underestimate their capacity to play and to enjoy potentially tedious excursions as long as they are presented in the right frame and some concessions made. A long sight-seeing tour of Esfahan passed with no complaints since we hired a small mini-bus and driver and the children brought their toys on the bus and could have it all to themselves.
As the anniversary of our arrival in Tehran approaches I am glad we made the decision to come. I have learnt a lot about myself, my children and our family. There have been great days and bad ones but we have learnt to deal with both. As a family we have become closer and I cherish the time I have been able to spend with the children. From our experience, the keys to, not only surviving, but enjoying the first year at post, are flexibility, a good sense of humour, a loving and supportive (did I mention tolerant?) partner, the ability to be yourself, and time off when it becomes overwhelming. (Occasional bouts of escapism with a good video and a big bar of chocolate can be very therapeutic). As far as possible accept all invitations - however unlikely they sound - since, as the children have demonstrated, amusement can be found in the most unexpected places.