Waiting for an Ordinary Day by Farnaz Fassihi

Author:Farnaz Fassihi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PublicAffairs

16

My Name Is Moonlover, So Romantic, So Free

In June we attend two celebrations, each displaying significantly less fanfare and flash than is customary, where planning revolves entirely around security. The organizers are intent on passing the day relatively uneventfully by avoiding any spectacular bloodshed. Sabah throws a low-key wedding lunch for his younger son, Ziad, in sweltering afternoon heat so that guests can make it home before the streets are dark and dangerously impassable. At first Ziad and Rana consider bypassing a wedding party altogether to elope in a safer location like Jordan or Syria. But Ziad vetoes the idea, pointing out that a wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event; traveling can be done anytime.

“If we gave up our dream, it would equal defeat,” Ziad says.

In his young macho way Ziad is determined to create a memorable day of their union, one that is filled with laughter, dancing, and adoring family. Twice their wedding was postponed because of the invasion and the subsequent uncertainty. When the Americans announce the formal end of the occupation, Ziad settles on a date two weeks before the handover of power.

Sabah tries to persuade him otherwise by offering to pay a lump sum of cash he was planning to spend on their party so the couple can travel. He wants them to escape Iraq for a little while, and to alleviate for him and Marie-Rose the stress of hosting a big party. Sabah seems a little ashamed that his anxiety overshadows his dream of witnessing his younger son wed. We are talking about the wedding after a typical weekly lunch at their house. Marie-Rose and Theresa are clearing the table, and I’m left sitting with Sabah. He pushes his empty plate aside and places his hand under his chin and sighs. “Can you believe a father asking his son to take his joy and happiness somewhere else? Do you think I’m a bad father for saying this?”

I can appreciate Ziad’s desire to defeat conventional wisdom and march ahead with his wedding plans. Clinging to plans in wartime, even if they seem insane, provides a sort of relief. I tell Sabah that in Iran, during days of war, my family tried to normalize our lives by having fun. My parents took us to the countryside with a troop of cousins and orchestrated sing-along sessions, dance competitions, excavation walks along the river, and group storytelling around a fire at night. The adults entertained themselves by hosting parties over the weekend to play cards, drink, and dance. At the time, I thought my family frivolous, or in denial. But I know now that it wasn’t denial that compelled them to behave as they did. It was their understanding of war. They knew that in extreme circumstances each minute is laced with uncertainty and a chance to flirt with normalcy is an occasion to cherish.

Sabah chuckles at my story. Marie-Rose emerges with a tray of tiny cups filled with rich Arabic coffee and instructs me to leave a thick lining of the liquid at the bottom.

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