Far Far Away

She stepped into the dark room and went straight to the sink to rinse off her hands. The smell of the dinner, the scattering flu viruses, all the hand shakes, all washed down the drain. She then put down her purse and turned on the lights.

The room was set how she had left it. Her laptop still plugged in. Some cloths neatly left on the chair.  Her book by the bed stand.  She connected her iPhone to the laptop, get it charged and synced. She laid her jacket on the bed and sat on the chair by the window; the night and the city underneath her gaze. The cars. The lights. The reflections on the river not too far away. The noises of the city at night. Her gaze flying over the buildings. Back to the river reflecting the bridge lights.

She took out her heels and suit; put on sweatpants and jacket and sneakers; grabbed the room key and iPhone and earphones and walked out the room. She head to the bridge, jogging along the sidewalk.

It was long ago she was there at the bottom of that bridge with him. Deep in the night. Feeling assured and secured. She was there again, deep in the night, feeling secured and assured. Albeit in a totally different sense. She was there but far far away from then.

The Unspoken Heart

Back and forth my mind moves between feeling grateful and feeling betrayed. The injustice bothers me. Then I ask myself: didn't the worst of the injustice happen to the best of the men and women? Who am I to complain?

The ignorance makes me feel hopeless. Then I remind myself of my many blessings I am granted for no reason.

I am a nobody in the eyes of the Beloved. I want to remember that. That must feel liberating. Yet I feel trapped.

So I pray and I repent. Then every move I make, every step, I say the word. And I smile.

One More Time A New Beginning

The untidy closet is tidy and organized. Both kids were in bed and it was just then that we could start working on the clutter. Now the result of the labor is fabulous. These are the jolts of khoone takooni in our house, the condensed Spring Cleaning if you wish, the Persian style.

In one shelf I sorted out my diaries; the very first notebook started at the Perisan New Year's Eve, 1990, 24 years ago! I had used my most favorite pen and exercised my best penmanship. I had drawn some pictures in the background. I was really into writing my first note.

I skimmed through the first couple of notes but I didn't dare reading the rest. I knew I would find the unfamiliar me who lived in the past and I would miss that 'me'. I better remember this when A and m are going to act strange in a few years.  In another notebook I found some of my poems. How proud I was for each one of them! How in love, in doubt, disappointed I felt in some!

I found some notes written in a secret language the keys to which I do not know anymore.

I found occasional notes written by friends who should have been with me at the time.

Notes from elementary school to high school to university to getting married to emigrating to Toronto to finding new friends to finishing school to landing my first job to getting pregnant to all the emotions of motherhood to yesterday when I wrote down yet another dream.

From that big house in Khane Eafahan to this house in the edge of San Jose; Who would have ever guessed?

A new Nowrouz is ahead of us once more. A new beginning enshala, if there were more days in my life.  And more notes to be written and never read unless I gather the courage one day.

Bill Henry

In memory of a great man, Bill Henry.  All I can think about when I try to remember him is how honest he was, how reliable and genuine, what a logical person.  I am grateful that I had the opportunity to meet him and work with him. He was one of the best managers I had and one of the greatest people I ever met.  His lively laughter was heard from anywhere on the floor and made you smile even when you didn't know the subject.
I keep thinking about our last conversation last week. How assured the gestured! How neglectful the moments!

He left us so very suddenly. Passed. From the same disease he had helped many with.  How bizarre the acts of the universe!

This was a reminder to me of how unexpected life is. Any talk can be the very last talk. Any visit the very last sight.

I understand that he was on vacation in a far away island. I wondered if he would live should he not be so remote. I wonder if it were an aneurysm rupture and if so how come he didn't know about it? He was an active and aware man.  But then I believe there is a time and place for everyone when and where one passes.  I like to think he passed on vacation in a beautiful venue and painlessly.

I will miss his presence in the office and in the meetings.  It was a relief every time he was around; you knew he would understand and support the good thoughts and worthy suggestions. You knew what he was saying was well based and trustworthy. You knew how he was saying it would settle the matters.

Now, no more emails from Bill Henry. No more unexpected visits to ones cubicle for a real and practical chat. No more stories about his days in Texas. No more funny comments about colleagues' Excel proficiency.

Bill Henry was a great man. He touched our lives from many angles and we are all better because of who he was and how he was.  He will be missed.  How nice to pass and people miss one and talk about one's memories and words positively. What a nice life!  I hope I pass like that!
I am sure he is in a very good place right now; yet I feel sad that I won’t see him again and I know I will miss him a lot. This loss is a reminder to me that life is not to be taken for granted.  I try to remember this.

O God! Please bless his soul and take care of him!

                                                       

Maps; Real Kind

Driving in 101 North from San Louis Obispo back home in San Jose, I wish for a map. We are looking at the car GPS but I wish for the real kind that are printed. I like to study it, finding my "you are here" myself, and pin where I want to go. Then map my path going from page to page where the page ends while the road still continues.

This reminds me of my days at Canspec, a consulting company in Oakville, Ontatio I was employed at in early 2005. My manager and I needed to visit clients around Ontario. He had a road atlas in his car and would give me the client's address.  We would find the location on the map and pan out a plan. I would then become his guide showing him the way while browsing the maps following the agreed upon plan. In return, he would map the lunch stops in his head. He knew the best soup places around Ontario, the best burger shops, the best German dineries. All inexpensive and a hole in the wall actually but indeed delicious dishes. Everywhere he went he ordered "the usual" and said hi to the mom and pop.  He taught me the ethiquette in eating soup the German way.  He was not very talkative but suddenly would blurt something facinating about a road we were on or a building we were passing by.  All the while, I had my head burried in the road atlas.  Soon after, I would request the address and find the direction via Google Map before departure. It was new at the time and more convenient to me than Map Quest.  I would then print the direction from our office to the client's and pin it to the inner side of their folder. J.Z., my boss, was impressed but we continued using the road atlas when traveling in his car.

We used to have a road atlas in my parents' car too.  We travelled around Iran using the book. I still remember the ragged red cover of the book and how it was exciting to me finding our way through its pages; where the pages ended and the roads continued.

Yes I Can!

Easy did it. After a few runs in the easy slope I found my groove and actually had fun. I even helped a lady hill who had fallen and couldn't stand up. Then in the last run a lady sitting by me on the lift pulled me down and I hit the ground from behind very sharply. I couldn't move for a while and eventually crawled out of the way. I was not sure if I could ski down but I made it.

I must give credit to M and friends for their support in pushing me to ski. Otherwise I was ready to leave at noon.

Now. I'm glad it all came back to me and I am grateful that it was an uneventful day for us all.

Contemplating on my Ski Abilities

Can I do it again?

The little angel just fell asleep and I brought her and the stroller flooded with stuff to the cafe. I am not sure where everybody is.

A is taking a ski lesson again; he is level 2 now. He seems to be interested in snow boarding and I would like us to support him with his interest. However, the lesson we have already purchased is for ski. I hope we can bring him up again for snow boarding lessons.

M is skiing this morning and the plan is for him to take m this afternoon so I can ski a few hours perhaps. But I haven't skied for four years and M won't be with me. Indeed he wasn't last time either so I'm not sure why the doubt in myself.

Ok, it is going to be a few hours of m and me. She shall be up any moment. She is such a light sleeper.  Meanwhile, I might browse the book I grabbed from the bookshelf in the cottage just as we were walking out the door.  The only reason for me grabbing it is the author: Steinbeck. Last I read one of his books, The Moon is Down, was when I was in high school. I remember I enjoyed reading it on a lazy new year holiday day.

Oh she is up. And crying. Of course.  No network here. To be continued.

Three hours later and I totally regret coming. This baby hates warm cloths and wants to be held all the time. My shoulders are aching and I'm tired already.

I must say I do not recommend Sierra at Tahoe for parents with babies. The washrooms are downstairs which is where you can nurse too. The cafe is in the middle storie and where you can have any reception to contact your spouse is yet another level up. And no elevator! So you are at mercy of passerbies to help you with the baby and the flooding stroller to move between any of these locations!!

Funny now that I'm tired I have less doubt in my ski abilities!! I rather go back to the house.

To be continued.

Celebrating Working Moms

All sorts of toys in the playroom and the livingroom, a few untidy blankets everywhere around the house, and undone dishes. This is how my house looks like at the end of a weekend day. My house! Me! Who used to clean her room continuously, dust her desk every day, and vaccuum her floor every week. Who used to be able to crawl her hands through her closets with closed eyes and find the exact thing she needed in two seconds.

Now, this untidy house is my house.  I am thankful for it.

I am thankful for the toys and the kids who played with it. I'm thankful for the undone dishes in which we had warm lunch earlier today. I'm grateful for the house that is warm and untidy.

I am thankful for other working moms and working women in my life. Those positive, encouraging women who are following their passions one way or the other. I am happy for your accomplishments.

I am grateful for my mom, the working mom of the past generation, who always says "you can do it if you set your mind on it".

I'm learning to be content with an untidy house. In the end, there is a difference between being perfect and being successful. I am learning to cherish my commitments and prioritize them, working to the best of my ability to make it work. I'm trying.

A Few Hours Before Super Bowl

Super Bowl is a fantastically foreign event for us while it is an annual ritual for many. It is amusing how from the Friday night before the game the grocery stores are filled with people and emptied of snacks and junk food. Then on the day people are rushing to their Super Bowl party locations but during the game the highways are exceptionally empty.  I like how it is a ritual; family and friends gather  and share the adrenalin rush.

I must say I really enjoyed the game last year when the San Francisco 49rs where playing.  We were at our relatives' in Walnut Creek, cozied up around the coffee table covered with cheese and crackers and snacks.  I think the little angel inside me was pumped with excitement too.

Otherwise, this is a rather quiet day for me.  Perhaps even lonely on occasions.

A park visit is always fun though.

Paying Back

It is in the middle of a business day and I'm sitting at a curbside on Santana Row. I'm waiting for a business colleague to join me. I'm exciting about meeting her; she is an accomplished woman in another division of the company I work for.

It is a fabulously pleasant day. Warm sun and mild breeze.  Everyone is in their light jackets; pretty warm for a winter day.

I'm sitting here, waiting, and people watching. The crowd can be divided to two categories: 40% working professionals and 60% parents with their young kids. It's so fun watching the wobbly toddlers walk and moms and dads relaxing around.

...

I got through my meeting. My meeting companion was such a sweet lady as I knew. It was a great one hour chatting about work and our backgrounds. Like always there was this question whether I married through arranged marriage. If I went to school in Iran. If my sister who is a dentist studied abroad. If I could work in Iran.

It makes me smile with amusement answering these questions. Makes me feel grateful for  the opportunity to educate yet another person about the reality of that land.

It was great meeting her. She is so bright and positive and with high energy. Loved her insights and grateful for her time. When I told her I was feeling bad of taking her precious time while I knew it was all for me she responded that she was paying back.

Biscuit and Taxi Driver

3:45AM and on my way to the airport. No appetite for breakfast before I left. When I rode the car, just to avoid motion sickness, I took out the small box of cookies from my bag and took one out.

Me: do you want a biscuit?

Taxi driver: no thanks! I just had a banana.

Then; Taxi driver: where are you from originally?

Me: Iran.

Then; Me: why do you ask? (Thinking if it were my accent triggering the question)

Taxi driver: because many few people ask if I want a biscuit.

Me: !!

To Recharge Self Esteem Go to Motherland

Unexpectedly I feel happier here since we are back.  It is ten days since we left Iran and I miss my family and I wish I could be there but I am in harmony with where I am now too.

For a long while before I left to visit my motherland, I was fighting this random theory in my heart, that everyone around me was happier than I was; the school moms, the coworkers, the neighbors. Somewhere in the process of feeling unhappy and sorry for myself I had doubted my self worth and self esteem. I was apologetic, then felt mad at myself feeling apologetic.

I am back now, feeling strong, loving, capable again.

I think what was actually happening was how I had missed being loved and respected the way one is among her family and long time friends.  In the short time I was there I was overjoyed with love and attention from family, relatives, and friends. In the last evening at my mom's for example I got to talk to my oldest uncle on the phone whom I hadn't talked to for several years; he said I made his day when he heard my voice.  This is so routine in Iran perhaps, to hear such loving words from a relative. But to me it was much needed, like water for a dried land; priceless. It was a memory to cherish for eternity. And it was one of hundreds of examples that are now sweet loving memories in my heart.

I think I was away from my motherland for too long. I will plan to go back as frequently as I can to recharge, to feel rooted again, to love and feel loved. Enshala.

Book: Power Talk - Notes to Remember

Notes to remember from the book:

Power Talk - Using Language to Build Authority and Influence

- Language from the center directs rather than responds, makes statements, contextualizes with authority, contradicts, argues, and disagrees, and practices affect of control. It sounds like competence, knowledge, and authority.

- Language from the edge responds rather than directs, asks questions, contextualizes with protective strategies, avoids open argument, and practices conversational maintenance.

- Think about your goal or intention before a conversation.

- Consider analyzing yourself after conversation with either of the two styles of language.

- Match your style with your intention.

- Your voice message tells stuff about you.

- The language of your work setting can be like a "foreign language" to be learned. Listen to the words and styles in the meetings and learn.

- After the meetings do some research to learn what was heard and what was remembered.

- Figure out the language of your work, then figure out if you can adopt it, then figure out if you want to adopt it. If positive, practice and practice.

- Work and its daily politics is like war. One must choose her battles and her weapons.

- Early in the meeting most want to talk about their opinions so they don't listen. Bring up your strong and new ideas in the middle.

- "Neutrality complements authority"

- If you are committed to the value of your opinion, rephrase it and say it again. Be concise and don't give up.

- Direct when you can and step back when you should.

- "This (job) is war.  You want to win. There will be costs. Choose your battles - and your weapons."

- "You can call your style 'team management' if you want but remember that teams are full of internal politics, turf wars, competitiveness, and resentment. Teams need a captain, a leader, or a cox. They want their leader to be wise, fair, and enthusiastic."

- "Since words produce something only approximately like what we mean, meeting face-to-face offers the best chance of clear communication."

- " E-mail is not private."

- "If the idea is thirty second old, it's probably too hot to pass along. Reflect, let things cool, then share."

A New Year

No chance to stop and ponder on my life to come. My life is now and has no pause click. My life is passing right in front of me and now I want my life to flow within me. I am living. I am life.

We are home now, not settled yet but that's a matter of time. Work has resumed. I need to gain the working mindset again.

I have new goals and new thoughts and plans to achieve them.  I liked this article in Forbes, so decided to share it even though I don't usually share articles in my blog. I found it timely and aligned with my thoughts, hope you enjoy it!

Mentally Strong People: The 13 Things They Avoid

http://www.forbes.com/sites/cherylsnappconner/2013/11/18/mentally-strong-people-the-13-things-they-avoid/

Taxi Driver's Wisdom

Taxi Driver: where are you from?

M: Iran.

TD: Tehran?

M: Isfahan.

TD: how long in Istanbul?

M: just today.

TD: why?

M: have you been to Iran?

TD: 30 years ago... Bus...

Iran potential is big. But [point his finger to his head]. Gas. Petroleum. But no economy. Closed. Only Islam. But democracy is good. Little by little. [opens both hands to the boulevard] this could be Iran.

First Time in Istanbul

We arrived at Istanbul Airport around 7AM local time for the first time on the first day of the new year. Sleepless and tired, yet excited to explore a little bit. After leaving our luggage at the airport for a fee, we found the Sheraton hotel shuttle where we had reservation. As soon as the shuttle doors opened in front of the hotel lobby it was evident that we were in an American environment: American music which was nicely blended with Turkish hospitality.  We were promised to check in earlier, around 10AM rather than 2PM.

We lounged in the lobby and A started watching Harry Potter.  It is a beautiful hotel, close to the airport located at the harbor front.

We got our room keys at 11AM at last. Knowing it would take that long we would have planned our day differently, leaving our carry on in the lobby and heading to the city center earlier.

This Sheraton Istanbul Atakoy is the best Sheraton I have been to. Comfortable yet elegant with view if the harbor front. Now I wish we were staying longer.

We headed to the Sultan Ahmet district. It was awesome! Old stone covered allies with small shops. I prayed in the Blue Mosque. We walked the ancient streets and had lunch. We watched a lady weaving carpets. We asked of the price of a beautiful silk carpet where the guy claimed that Turkish carpet was "the original" and not comparable with the Persian rug. It suddenly made me feel betrayed.  Even more so when I saw many other handicrafts claimed of being the originals. I wish we Iranians deserved our heritage more!

I really enjoyed our stroll and I hope to come back, soon! Enshala!

  

Naghsh-e Jahan Square through My iPhone

Beautiful handy crafts albeit skyrocketed prices.

Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque

Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque

Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque

Jaame' Mosque - it still echoes 7 times under the dome.

Naghsh-e Jahan Square

Belated Merry Christmas

At last I could go around the filters tonight and get access to my blog. Gosh! This trip has flown by too fast! Many talks, many thoughts.  I feel exhausted in fact. My mind is totally scattered I need some peace and quiet to think and reflect.  About where to live, about family, about work, about life.

I'm grateful for the time with family and friends. My A has discovered his cousins! He seems to really enjoy being with them, laughing and playing, and now missing them.

I found my eyes welled with tears this morning thinking about him missing it all. He is going to share my pain and it has been the last thing I wanted for him.

Oh! Lots to say! No chance to write in detail for now. But only some memories to remember via pictures.

Merry Christmas!

Happy 2014!!!

PS: no water in Zayanderood I didn't feel like going to the riverside this time at all. Wish it were different!!!  Hope it gets better!!!

Many decorated Christmas trees a Santa Claus status around the city

I like Isfahan City Center and Hyper Star a lot! Lots to shop for in the same spot.

Diaries of a Wimpy kid is translated to Farsi; very funny translation!

Pepsi and Coke are not part of the sanction! A puzzle!!

First Week Back Home

This is exactly a week since I arrived in Isfahan and exactly 6 days that I have been bedridden due to an awful flu.  I am feeling much better now but still my body is working on gaining energy back.

Blogspot and Facebook are blocked here.  Therefore, I don't have access to my weblog or FB.  As soon as I can install a VPN on my iPhone I will post these notes enshala.

I have been mainly home these days, resting and nesting.  I stopped by at the emergency room one morning and decided not to stay due to the long wait time.  That was the depth of my outing.

One morning, when everyone had left for work, I was standing in my mom's 4th floor apartment and watching the narrow street below. There were cars parked on both sides leaving room for only one car to pass. It was an honor system with traffic from both ways. It was working fine from where I was standing.

Standing at the window I could see all the way to Sofeh mountains and Kolaah Ghazi. It was a bright morning indeed. Then, suddenly, my thoughts were brokn when Mrs E, the middle aged woman who helps my mom with house chores, asked me "is there any hope for Iran?"! I turned around and exclaimed why she asked that. She said "you can see yourself! Things are awful lately. The inflation and the sanction on medicin. I cannot find the meds for my ill son. And when I do, they are very expensive and the insurance refuses to pay the bills after making us wait for six months.".

I listened having nothing to say back.

She continued with a smirk "I tell my daughter that I think Iran is worse than Afghanistan these days". I said I didn't know because I had never been to that region of the world.  She continued with her scrubbing.

I looked through the window again. Cars making their way through the parked cars. People walking back home with bags full of purchased goods. Kids returning from schools. Life was flowing. Yet underneath people were suffering.  Suddenly I thought as if a dust of hopelessness had covered the city.

Damn this sanction!

But nothing will stay the same forever.

Now my M and A have joined us and we have a full house again. I'm feeling better little by little and hope to get out and explore some more.

My little m has her first tooth budding exactly at 24 weeks! Something to celebrate now!

Baby Kangaroo, The Dog, The Fish

There are several new guests arriving in the resort today.  Many speak Arabic and some English not sure where they are from.  I met only one other guy who spoke Farsi and was from Iraq.  I have heard some Hebrew and still the majority speaks Turkish. In fact, the company of these specific flags has fascinated me.

It seems like the Baby K is the only baby in the resort. She attracts lots of attention from men and women alike. People say maashaalaa to her and an older lady when held out her hands to receive her said besmellah. A lady pinned a Turkish dream catcher to her cloth.  All very kind and attentive to her.

In a very short stroll we had around the resort this afternoon a dog joined us in front of the hotel and walked with us all the way. He didn't have any leash or didn't seem owned by anyone but was very well behaved. He posed when I was taking a picture of the Baby K;

Finally, Baby K is really interested in the fish. In fact, the fish are my baby sitters. I leave her by the aquarium and sit down to have a Turkish coffee or some fennel tea.

We are leaving tomorrow. But we hope to come back next summer, all four of us, enshala!