Children of the Zagros

2018-07-16T11:13:24+02:00

In the southern part of Iran, in Chaharmahal and Bakhtiyari districts (Persian: Ostān-e Chahār-Mahāl-o Bakhtiyārī), lives a very special and little known community of people. They used to count over 500,000 and millions of animals – but nowadays there is about 200,000 people that still live the ancient way of life together with their livestock.

They are the Bakhtiyari people – the nomads of Iran.

In the spring of 2018, in another semi-annual migration (Lori dialect: ‘kooch’), me and a few other friends went on a journey to Zagros hinterlands, in search of this obscure culture. Having in mind that a 300 km long migration – which they undertake going from winter pastures (‘garmsir’), to summer pastures (‘yehlagh’) high in the mountains – can last as long as two months, at first it was a bit challenging to locate our nomad hosts, especially in a vast region like Zagros mountain range. But soon we stumbled upon another nomadic family that hosted us for the first night.

The first encounter with the members of this particular family was exciting for both parties – them, the children of Zagros, and us, lost in the wilderness. With welcoming smile on her face, the mother (Persian: ‘madar’) of the family said: “Well, we need to be here, but what on Earth are you doing here!?”. Nobody replied, but I remember that I thought of what could be the only possible reply – we came to remember the things we forgot long ago. Standing barefoot in front of a primitive tent (Persian: ‘chador’), dressed fully in black clothes, this middle-aged woman that looked older than her age appeared very simple, yet very tough with a face that could almost tell stories. It was obvious she’s a very strong woman – a pillar of the family. The men – father and two younger family members – were also close by, shepherding and guarding the sheep and goats.

After the men came to greet us, realizing that the family we were looking for was related to them, they invited us to settle for a night in their camp, placed in a cozy valley. It was already getting dark, so we set up our tents and had dinner with these welcoming people. Since we were too many and came unannounced, the dinner they prepared was humble, but they insisted to share it with us. Still, with a bit of improvisation, no one was left hungry. Soon afterwards, everybody retreated to their tents, to catch a bit of sleep.

After a rainy night, in the morning luckily the sun was coming up. Me and few others joined our guide Mohammad in search of our hosts – the Ali Mowlah’s family. Soon, with a little help of Mohammad’s intuition, we found their camp not too far away. It was in a rocky slope, placed between two cold creeks. They shared the spot with another nomadic family. Both had a big flock of goats and sheep that could roam freely, but in spite of that they would always recognize an animal not belonging to them, in case it drifted from another flock. The Bakhtiyari know their animals. The respect and solidarity between families is unquestionable.

During the rest of the day we met all of the members, both of our host family and the neighboring family as well. There we saw a newly married couple, Behrooz and his wife. Behrooz was 21 and his wife was 19. This young lady was a true example of natural and untamed beauty. She clearly did not care much about the impression, yet still she managed to appear so elegant. Later I will saw her again, proudly riding a horse into the wild. It is a pity they don’t allow taking photos of female family members, especially the younger ones. It was only two weeks that they had been married, and yet they already joined the family for the migration. While Behrooz left to shepherd the herds, the bride was at the camp, helping with cooking and other daily tasks. She was wearing a nice colorful dress, unlike madar from the first camp. They explained that if it happens that a female suffers a loss of her companion, or even a very close relative, from then on she will dress only in black. It is a traditional way of mourning.

As I arrived earlier, and was waiting for the rest of our group to join us, I had the privilege of enjoying a peaceful nomadic afternoon in their camp. The donkeys and horses resting in the shades of big oak trees, together with a stunning view over a picturesque Zagros scenery, made it all look quite idyllic. There was one tent reserved only for men, and a little baby goat that had been born just that morning. I was looking after the baby goat, and a bit later, the elderly – among which Ali Mowlah himself – joined me as well.

It was a rather pleasant experience to chat with the men over tea. Being very hospitable, they offered me the first cup of their well known black tea. Since they do not carry many assets on the migration, we shared the only two cups they had, one at the time. While sipping the tea, they were speaking about current and past times, before the revolution of 1979, remembering the great Jaffar Qoli – the main protagonist of the ethnographical documentary People of the Wind – as one of the last chiefs (Lori: ‘kalantar’) of the Bakhtiyari. The last kalantar – because the government was not always a great fan of them. It was shortly after the first oil exploitations in Persian gulf, conducted by the Brits in this nomad region during early 20th century, that distrust took place. Because of their growing independence and even political significance, it was Shah Reza himself who tried to patronize the Bakhtiyari. He forced them to settle, so he alone could control this fast emerging business – with little success. Despite the sacrifices, the Bakhtiyari did reclaim and restore their freedom, tear down their houses, and once again were free to go back to the Zagros.

I was surprised to find out that Ali Mowlah – the father of our host family – is actually related to Jaffar. He also said that he actually remembered the crew and the shooting of the film! Being an old and respected member of the Bakhtiyari tribe, Ali proved himself to be a man of great experience and hospitality. He had many questions for me too, and with the help of Elham from our group, who could speak Farsi, we could communicate and exchange some cultural information. I remember him asking me whether we had nomads back in Europe. Not wanting to discourage him, or to disappoint these fine men, I replied that we had many shepherds, still roaming in the mountains – which proved to be a satisfactory answer.

A bit later we met the mother and her shy daughters, Sumaye and her younger sister whose name I forgot. They were in the camp, preparing food and the daily bread. The older daughter, Sumaye, was married, but her husband was in the city due to some business. As Bakhtiyari families can be quite big, they sometimes share the burden of the migration, so that the other members can take care of things of equal importance. The boys, who are usually in charge of shepherding, joined us a bit later. Sa’adik as the eldest son (21), Sa’adat, and Peyman as the youngest one, were the three boys who joined to help the family on the migration.

Sa’adik, although hard-working, was the lucky one to get the education, while his younger brothers, as well as his sisters, skipped school. He had even earned a bachelor degree at a university in Ahwaz, and is shyly learning English as well. Although tempted by the modern way of life, it is amazing and a rather encouraging fact that he still supports his family on the migration.

Due to the rain and very unpredictable weather, the family had been waiting in the camp for four days. Rain makes it hard for the animals to migrate long distances, so they usually stay put. But one day after we came the rain finally stopped, so they decided to move. After they packed their big tent and loaded the donkeys and the mules, we packed our stuff as well, and joined the caravan. We went uphill, following paths only nomads can recognize. When reached more flat terrain, they decided to camp there over night and wait for better weather. We had lunch and, while resting, had some time to learn more about this family and their culture.

The family also included three older men who stayed back in the city of Lali, in the neighboring Khuzestan province. They, as well as the two older daughters who were married and settled down, didn’t join the migration for different reasons. I found out that one of them had had a baby to take care of, and since she was married to a settler, she no longer participated in the migration. I was told that, in the past, even pregnant girls used to migrate with the family and give birth to their babies, giving them names of the mountains on which they were born.

As for the girls, they are attached to the family and their mother, at least until they get married. They work as hard as the boys, if not harder. From early morning they are responsible for milking, preparing food, yogurt and the traditional dairy drink (Persian: ‘doogh’), as well as taking care of the camp. At one point it suddenly started to rain so I helped them set up a big and heavy tent in just a few minutes. They rarely go to school, but there are some exceptions. I heard from another young nomad that his older sister had studied in the city and spoke good English.

Women of a nomadic community are respected by all members, but they earned the respect through hard work and commitment. Usually they are the ones who set up the camp and pack for the migration. While the men leave the camp early with slower sheep, the women are left behind to pack the camp, and together with the mules and slightly faster goats set off to a place where the family will reunite once again. Overall, men have somewhat different duties: taking care of herding, protection and guarding the honor of the family. Nevertheless, during the migration times, the women also always carry rifles as a precaution.

Soon, the sun was again high up, and it was time for us to set forth once again. We walked most of the day across different valleys and slopes, following streams and roads, until we came to the place were the last market is placed. Before going over the river and deeper into the wilderness, here they will do some basic shopping. It was the last chance to buy what they’d need for following months, as after crossing Zardeh-Kuh (Yellow Mountain), they would only have themselves to rely on. The nomads did not buy anything unnecessary – they mostly bought some additional flour for their bread and some tobacco. After a little break and lunch on a meadow, we continued our trip over to the Bazoft river.

This is one of the rivers that has taken so many lives of nomads in the past. It is their only road to survival – yet, there was no bridge in sight! The nomads a special, rather stoic relationship with this mighty river. Back in the old days, it was impossible to cross it without improvised rafts. Luckily, in this very time of the year the water was pretty shallow, so we had no trouble crossing it. Still, it was the coldest water I had ever stepped into. While slowly following the herd, we were now on the other side, getting closer to the spot where we’d set up our next camp.

Approaching a nice valley, next to a stream, the family settled once again. Although tired, few of us did not want to miss the chance to explore a very beautiful surrounding. We also climbed a hill in order to get a better view of some fascinating mountains. One of these mountains was called “The Untouchable”, and it truly did look epic. It was an enormous and very steep barren rock, with a big cave high up in the middle. We were told that, in the past, whenever there was some kind of a turmoil, the rich men would put all of their gold and other possessions into these caves, hoping nobody would ever find them. Or maybe they hoped it would be guarded by Simorq (mythical bird in Persian literature, often equated with Phoenix). Legend or not, it has been recorded that many treasure hunters – some of which were Bakhtiyari – have lost their lives trying to climb Mt. Untouchable.

Close to the camp, we even discovered a small, but very old nomads’ graveyard. Such graveyards are scattered all around the nomadic region, along migration paths. If a great man dies, to represent the courageousness of the deceased, on top of his grave they would put a lion-shaped tombstone. You could often find swords and similar motifs engraved in the rocks – a universal highlanders’ custom, I guess, whether they were Celts, Bogomils or the Bakhtiyari. As we were on our fifth day of this extraordinary nomadic pilgrimage, almost reaching our physical limits, right after dinner we went to sleep under the sky.

We slept next to each other, and while the nomads were guarding their sheep and goats, the moon was shedding light on our small camp. The night was peaceful and calm and you could only hear a few bells and running water from the stream next to us. Early in the morning, our host family quickly packed in order to continue on their way. Even though we wanted to say a proper goodbye, we didn’t want to slow them down, so we ended up with a short farewell:

- Ya Ali! Be salamat! Khoda Hafez!

Soon they disappeared behind the next hill, and only the smoke from the fireplace was left to slowly rise into the thin Zagros air. Tired and overwhelmed by this both crude and rewarding experience, after leaving a piece of us with the nomads, we still had to undertake a long trip back home.

***

This rather big family, as probably many others of the Bakhtiyari tribe, seems to be on a sort of a crossroads: whether to continue the old and hard life style, or to choose more comfortable life in the city. It is a good example of the situation that the Bakthiyari people – if not all nomads – are dealing with.

In case of Sa’adik, it is possible that he joined this migration mostly because of the fact that his nomadic parents struggled a lot in order to sponsor his studies. On the other hand, maybe Sa’adik represents a new generation of nomads: humble, educated and open to the world, but still with a strong urge to follow the paths of their ancestors.

Despite their struggles and temptations, the nomads will probably continue to do what they know best: They will be there, in the foothills of the mighty Zagros mountains, living in harmony with their livestock while the wind and rain continue to wash away the rocks of the ancient nomadic cradle.

Migration blues (trad. Bakhtiyari)
(translation by Mohammad Malekshahi)

I will die for the migration melody,
Until the bells chime in harmony

I will die for the calm night,
Before the rooster breaks it

I will die for the bread, made with love,
While I reach deeper into the night

I will die for the milk,
Given by every flower.

In Tehran, May 10th 2018

Diwan Abatur and the Mandaeans

2021-04-04T08:23:01+02:00

Mandaeans are the adherents of Mandaeism, a gnostic religion that originated in Mesopotamia in the first tree centuries CE. The majority of Mandaeans today live in Iraq and Iran, and speak a dialect of the Eastern Aramaic language. As their religion has always been secretive and their society very private, most of the historical accounts of the Mandaean religion and culture come from outsiders, and are thus often superficial, biased and incorrect. In her book “The Mandaeans of Iraq and Iran, their Cults, Magic Legends and Folklore”, published in 1937, British cultural anthropologist Ethel Stefana Drower tried to offer a systematic, balanced account of Mandaean culture. Ethel managed to procure the manuscript of Diwan Abatur, a Mandaean religious text written on a scroll. The translation of Diwan Abatur was published in 1950. Here are several excerpts from her 1937 book, followed by the preface to the 1950 book and selected illustrations from Diwan Abatur.

In Mandaean legends, as well as in those of India and Persia, one finds perpetual reference to wandering dervishes, the wanderers who set out in search of intellectual and spiritual peace.

In the following pages an attempt is made to relate what the author has seen, heard, and observed of the Mandaeans of Iraq and Iran. of Iraq and Iran. Observations were made over a number of years and furnish a considerable body of new evidence as to their customs, beliefs, cults, and magic. This evidence, we submit, is useful, not only to the student of anthropology, folk-lore, and ethnology, but to students of the history of religions, for the Mandaeans are what the doctor calls a case of arrested development. Their cults, which are regarded by them as more sacred than their books, and older, have been tenaciously retained; their ritual, in all its detail, most carefully preserved by a priesthood who regard a slip in procedure as a deadly sin. Segregated since the coming of Islam from those amongst whom they dwell by peculiarities of cult, custom, language, and religion, they have kept intact and inviolate the heritage which they had from their fathers.

Mandaeans do not adore the heavenly bodies, but they believe that stars and planets contain animating principles, spirits subservient and obedient to Melka d Nhura (the King of Light), and that the lives of men are governed by their influences. With these controlling spirits are their doubles of darkness. In the sun-boat stands the beneficent Shamish with symbols of fertility and vegetation, but with him is his baleful aspect, Adona, as well as guardian spirits of light. The Mandaeans invoke spirits of light only, not those of darkness. All Mandaean priests are at the same time astrologers.

In the sun-boat stands the beneficent Shamish with symbols of fertility and vegetation, but with him is his baleful aspect, Adona, as well as guardian spirits of light.

The great alluvial plains of the Tigris and Euphrates lie between the Far East and Near East and in constant contact with both. From earliest times, highroads have run from the uplands of Iran, from the steppes of Asia, from the deserts of Arabia, from the plains of India, through what is now modern Iraq, to the Mediterranean seaboard. From the first its inhabitants have been subject to influences from all quarters of the civilized globe and ruled by race after race. There could be no better forcing ground for syncretistic thought. Babylonia and the kingdoms of Persia and Media offered natural conditions favourable to the growth of religious conceptions compromising between ancient traditions and cults, and ideas which had travelled from the old civilization of China by way of the Vedic philosophers of India ideas whichspiritualized, revived, and inspired man's belief in the immortality of the soul, its origin in the Divine Being, and the existence of beneficent ancestral spirits. Moreover, in the five centuries before Christ, there was a steady infiltration of Jewish, Egyptian, Phoenician, and Greeki nfluences into Babylonia. Before the Captivities, Jewish communities of traders and bankers established themselves in the land of the two rivers, while mercenaries and merchants passed to and fro between the Far East and the seaboards of Egypt, Phoenicia, and Greece.

Speculation in the West is mostly conducted from a chair: the adventurer into the realms of thought goes no farther than the laboratory or the study. In the East, seekers after truth were peripatetic : their intellectual vagabondage was physical as well.

The soldier and the merchant, though they contributed as intermediaries in the exchange of ideas, could never, however, have been more than passive 'carriers' of religious thought. In Mandaean legends, as well as in those of India and Persia, one finds perpetual reference to wandering dervishes, the wanderers who, like Hirmiz Shah in the Mandaean story, like Gautama the Buddha in India, or, in medieval times, Guru Nanak, set out in search of intellectual and spiritual peace. Speculation in the West is mostly conducted from a chair: the adventurer into the realms of thought goes no farther than the laboratory or the study. In the East, seekers after truth were peripatetic : their intellectual vagabondage was physical as well. It is certain that where the merchant penetrated, religious wanderers followed; travelling philosophers, ranging from China to India, Baluchistan, and Persia, and from Persia and Iraq to the Mediterranean, using the passes of Kurdistan and the waterways of Iraq.

The Oriental loves metaphysical argument and seeks it: the higher his type, the more addicted he is to this form of mental exercise, and the readier to listen to the opinions of a guest. The result, a leaven of unorthodoxy amongst the intellectual, eventually spread to the masses, first, possibly, as secret heresies, and then as new forms of religion. Here lies the importance of the Mandaeans. Extremely tenacious, while adopting the new at some far distant syncretistic period, they also conserved the old so religiously and faithfully that one can disentangle the threads here and there, and point to this as Babylonian, to that as Mazdean, to this as belonging to a time when animal flesh was forbidden, to that as suggesting a phase when zealous reformers endeavoured to purge out some ancient and inherent beliefs. At such a period as the last-named, the scattered religious writings of the Mandaeans were gathered together and edited. One may surmise that the editors and collectors were refugees, sophisticated priests who, returning to peaceful communities in Lower Iraq, were scandalized at their incorrigible paganism. The emended writings breathe reform and denunciation.

The core or nucleus, of the Mandaean religion, through all vicissitudes and changes, is the ancient worship of the principles of life and fertility. The Great Life is a personification of the creative and sustaining force of the universe, but the personification is slight, and spoken of always in the impersonal plural, it remains mystery and abstraction. The symbol of the Great Life is 'living water', that is flowing water, or yardna. This is entirely natural in a land where all life, human, animal, and vegetable, clings to the banks of the two great rivers Tigris and Euphrates. It follows that one of the central rites is immersion in flowing water.

The second great vivifying power is light, which is repres ented by personifications of light (Melka d Nhura and the battalions of melki or light spirits), who bestow such light-gifts as health, strength, virtue, and justice. In the ethical system of the Mandaeans, as in that of the Zoroastrians, cleanliness, health of body, and ritual obedience must be accompanied by purity of mind, health of conscience, and obedience to moral laws. This dual application was characteristic of the cults of Anu and Eain Sumerian times and Bel and Ea in Babylonian times, so that, if Mandaean thought originated or ripened under Iranian and Far Eastern influences, it had roots in a soil where similar ideals were already familiar and where ablution cults and fertility rites had long been in practice.

The third great essential of the religion is the belief in the immortality of the soul, and its close relationship with the souls of its ancestors, immediate and divine. Ritual meals are eaten in proxy for the dead ; and the souls of the dead, strengthened and helped, give assistance and comfort to the souls of the living.

The appellation 'Subba' (singular Subbi) is a colloquial form which this people accept as referring to their principal cult, immersion; but the more formal name of their race and religion, used by themselves, is Mandai, or Mandaeans. Arab authors have sometimes confounded the Mandaeans with the Majus, or Magians, and not without reason, since

the cults are similar. Travellers in the East were wont to refer to them as 'Christians of St. John', and Europeans who have come to Iraq since the Great War know them as 'the Amarah silverworkers'. As the community is small and peace-loving, with no political aspirations, it has no place in history beyond the occasional mention of its existence, and the record that some of the most brilliant scholars of the early Moslem Caliphate were of its way of thought.

Today, the principal centres of the Subba are in Southern Iraq, in the The Mandaeans (or Subba) of Iraq and Iran marsh districts and on the lower reaches of the Euphrates and Tigris ; in the towns of Amarah, Nasoriyah, Basrah, at the junction of the two rivers at Qurnah, at Qal'at Salih, Halfayah, and Suq-ash-Shuyukh. Groups of them are found in the more northerly towns of Iraq: Kut, Baghdad, Diwaniyah, Kirkuk, and Mosul all have Subbi communities of varying size. The skill of the Subba as craftsmen takes them far afield, and Subbi silver-shops exist in Beyrut, Damascus, and Alexandria. In Persia the Mandaeans were once numerous in the province of Khuzistan, but their numbers have diminished, and the settlements in Muhammerah and Ahwaz along the banks of the Karun river are not so prosperous or so healthy as those in Iraq.

Like the followers of other secret religions, the Mandaeans, when talking to people of another faith, accentuate small points of resemblance between their beliefs and those of their hearers. To inquirers they will say, 'John is our prophet like Jesus' (or 'Muhammad', as the case may be) 'is yours'. I soon found that John the Baptist (Yuhana, or Yahya Yuhana) could not with accuracy be described as 'their prophet' ; indeed, at one time I was tempted to believe that he was an importation from the Christians. I became gradually convinced, however, that he was not a mere accretion, and that he had real connexion with the original Nasurai, which was an early name given to the sect. Mandaeans do not pretend that either their religion or baptismal cult originated with John; the most that is claimed for him is that he was a great teacher, performing baptisms in the exercise of his function as priest, and that certain changes, such as the diminution of prayer-times from five to three a day, were due tohim. According to Mandaean teaching, he was a Nasurai; that is, an adept in the faith, skilled in the white magic of the priests and concerned largely with the healing of men's bodies as well as their souls. By virtue of his nasirutha, iron could not cut him, nor fire burn him, nor water drown him, claims made to-day by the Rifa'i darawish.

Jesus too, according to Mandaean theologians, was a Nasurai, but he was a rebel, a heretic, who led men astray, betrayed secret doctrines, and made religion easier (i.e. flouted the difficult and elaborate rules about purification). The references to Christ (Yshu Mshiha) are, in fact, entirely polemical, and for the most part refer to the practices of Byzantine Christianity which awake horror in Mandaeans, such as the use of 'cut-off' (i.e. not flowing) water for baptism, and the celibacy of monks and nuns. The Haran Gawaitha (D.C. 9) mentions the establishment of Christian communities on Mount Sinai. In the cults, Jesus and John are both unmentioned.

Jesus too, according to Mandaean theologians, was a Nasurai, but he was a rebel, a heretic, who led men astray, betrayed secret doctrines, and made religion easier

During the British occupation and the early days of the mandate, as one walked between the Subbi silver-shops in River Street, Baghdad, one sometimes saw a board announcing the proprietor to be a 'St. John Christian', but these, now that Iraq has a national government, have disappeared.

The religious writings of the Mandaeans have never been printed. Down through the centuries, priestly scribes who derived part of their income from such labours copied them by hand for pious Mandaeans who believed the possession of holy books ensured for them protection from evil in this world and the next. Few laymen could, or can, read or write Mandaean ; literacy is mostly confined tothe priestly class. Laymen have complained to me, 'The priests will not teach us to read or write (Mandaean)'. The reason is a practical one : if laymen knew these arts, the priest's prestige would suffer; moreover, writing of talismans and charms would cease to be a priestly monopoly. Mandaeans have nothing to compare with the Gospels which, in their claim to recount the life and teachings of Jesus, have a certain unity, or of Manichaean books containing the actual doctrines of Mani. The Mandaean religion has no 'founder', indeed, from the critical standpoint, few religions can be said to have 'founders' or to be 'new'.

In the year 1622, a Carmelite father, R. P. Ignatius, was despatched by the propaganda in Rome to the Nestorians of Mesopotamia. Whilst in Basrah, he met with members of a sect who, as is their custom when dealing with Christians, told him that their prophet was St. John the Baptist. From them he obtained a roll illustrated by curious drawings of beings which they described as angels or demons. On his return to Rome, Ignatius published a treaatise in Latin about this interesting group of "heretics" whose ceremonies were at once like and unlike those of Oriental Christians, and whose creed was so "strangely perverted and pagan".

The roll found its way into the Museo Borgiano in Rome, where Julius Euting was it in 1879. Euting was deeply interested and persuaded a friend, Dr. B. Pfortner, to photograph the manuscript. This photograph was published in Strasbourg in 1904, under the title "Mandaischer Diwan nach photographischer Aufnahme, von Dr. B. Pfoertner mitgeteilt von Julius Euting". It was not translated.

Early in my dealings with Mandalean priests in the marhes of Lower Iraq, I was shown a copy of Diwan Abatur and after long negotiations, it was arranged that I should have the roll that I had seen after its owner had copied it for himself. The copy was made with skill and care, and the original sent to me. Judging by the paper and other indications, my roll, D.C. 8 of my collection, is about the same date as the manuscript taken to Rome by Ignatius. Neither the Borgian manuscript nor mine is dated, although each has a long list of copyists, showing that the text was an ancient one. A considerable part of the beginning is missing from the Roman roll, but I have been able to compare the remainder of the Borgian manuscript with my own. I discovered no other copy of the text in Iraq, although, of course, other priests may have concealed possession of a copy since, in spide of the inferior and childish quality of the composition and mistakes due to constant recopying, it is looked upon as a precious and holy book.

The illustrations, archaic and suggestive of a Cubist form of art, are identical in both manuscripts. The Subba are clever artists and craftsmen, but tradition dictates that representation of celestial and infernal beings must follow a certain pattern. Drawings like these in the Diwan Abatur are found in the ritual rolls, so that we have here no childish inability to portray a subject, but deliberate convention of a very individual order. A Subbi smith who drew naturalistic pictures for engraving on his silverwork, when asked by me to draw pictures of some celestial beings, produced similar odd geometrical-looking designs.

Farsi Travel Dictionary

2021-03-22T14:25:11+01:00

Download our free Farsi Travel Dictionary, print it out, make a booklet, stick the Persian phrasebook into your back pocket – and you're good to go. Enjoy traveling in Iran!

Farsi (Persian) dictionary was made by:
Lili Vatani
Mehdi Moradizadeh
Ivana Mandić
Marko Nikolić
Marija Ilić

Forough Farrokhzad: The House Is Black

2014-10-16T20:24:00+02:00

In 1950's Tehran, in Iran, Forough Farrokhzad is 16 years old and has just gotten married to her cousin Parviz Shapour, against her family's will. A year later she gives a birth to her son, Kamyar.

Four years later, in order to regain her freedom to be an artist, she divorces from Parviz leaving their son with him. She becomes one of the most important contemporary poets, directors and independent Iranian women.

In her lifetime she published four books of poetry and directed an internationally awarded documentary about a lepers colony – The House Is Black. In the meantime she suffered from a breakdown, went to a mental hospital and, later on, traveled across Europe where she fell in love again.

Famous Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci visited Iran only to do an interview with Forough. One minute of the interview:

On her way back from lunch, after the best conversation she had ever had with her mother, Forough Farrokhzad died in a car accident at the age of 32.

This is one of her poems:

The Wind-Up Doll

More than this, yes
more than this one can stay silent.

With a fixed gaze
like that of the dead
one can stare for long hours
at the smoke rising from a cigarette
at the shape of a cup
at a faded flower on the rug
at a fading slogan on the wall.

One can draw back the drapes
with wrinkled fingers and watch
rain falling heavy in the alley
a child standing in a doorway
holding colorful kites
a rickety cart leaving the deserted square
in a noisy rush

One can stand motionless
by the drapes—blind, deaf.

One can cry out
with a voice quite false, quite remote
"I love..."
in a man's domineering arms
one can be a healthy, beautiful female

With a body like a leather tablecloth
with two large and hard breasts,
in bed with a drunk, a madman, a tramp
one can stain the innocence of love.

One can degrade with guile
all the deep mysteries
one can keep on figuring out crossword puzzles
happily discover the inane answers
inane answers, yes—of five or six letters.

With bent head, one can
kneel a lifetime before the cold gilded grill of a tomb
one can find God in a nameless grave
one can trade one's faith for a worthless coin
one can mold in the corner of a mosque
like an ancient reciter of pilgrim's prayers.
one can be constant, like zero
whether adding, subtracting, or multiplying.
one can think of your --even your—eyes
in their cocoon of anger
as lusterless holes in a time-worn shoe.
one can dry up in one's basin, like water.

With shame one can hide the beauty of a moment's togetherness
at the bottom of a chest
like an old, funny looking snapshot,
in a day's empty frame one can display
the picture of an execution, a crucifixion, or a martyrdom,
One can cover the crake in the wall with a mask
one can cope with images more hollow than these.

One can be like a wind-up doll
and look at the world with eyes of glass,
one can lie for years in lace and tinsel
a body stuffed with straw
inside a felt-lined box,
at every lustful touch
for no reason at all
one can give out a cry
"Ah, so happy am I!"'

Restoring the Freedom

2018-09-26T07:14:37+02:00

If you’re interested in nomadic cultures and traditions of the world, or people in general, here is a documentary you should not miss. Anthony Howarth’s People of the Wind (1976) is a unique ethnographical documentary that graciously depicts the simple and obscure lifestyle of the Bakhtiyari tribe from Iran; of whom we know – or used to know – so little.

This forgotten film about a forgotten people is not alone when it comes to documenting this unique culture, the other most notable ones being the amazing silent documentary Grass: A Nation’s Battle for Life (1925), as well as the later Bakhtiyari Migration: The Sheep Must Live (1973). These true cinematic milestones can be discussed some other time, as the focus of this brief review will be on Howarth’s work – which was and still is a major cinematic accomplishment when it comes to portraying the Bakhtiyari.

People of the Wind depicts an ancient lifestyle that is unique to the Bakhtiyari tribe. There are not many traditions like this in the world, full of trouble and hardship, that have survived for so long. Of course, different regimes viewed the way of Bakhtiyari in different lights, and their choices always came at a price. One has to be very persistent and eager in order to preserve such an outstanding culture.

Although the film certainly made a great impact on the public, soon after the premiere of the documentary, its fortune started to change. By a cruel coincidence, the film had a rather similar destiny as the people whose tradition it tried to depict on the big screen. It was lost in archives and forgotten. But luckily – not for too long!

The film, and the freedom that it depicts so graciously, were restored and once again brought out from the shadow, in this new cinematic era. Resurrected from oblivion, it could live and tell the story again, like the very people in it.

Trailer video:

G.T. Moore – Thanksgiving (from the album: G.T. Moore & Shusha ‎- People Of The Wind (1976 | Carolyn ‎-- CRS 1001) Footage excerpts from ‘People of the Wind’ (Anthony Howarth & David Koff)

“There are two hundred miles of impassable mountains to cross.

There are no towns, no roads, no bridges. 

There is no turning back.”

There is one important fact to note. To a stranger, who has little knowledge of the tribe, it could seem that this culture never succeeded to integrate in a modern world and because of this was left in isolation. But, the Bakhtiyari always had a choice. It is them alone who have always decided their fate and were always determined to stick to what they know the best. Their choice is personal. It is to pursue their freedom.

A nomadic transhumance, or simply migration (Lori: “kooch”), proved to be the best occupation for them. The film portrays the people who over centuries developed a certain resilience, which is certainly necessary for all the struggles the merciless Zagros throws at them. This makes the relation of the Bakhtiyari and the Zagros mountains almost a romance. By moving with their livestock and carrying all of their belongings on this epic hard-labor pilgrimage, their only goal is to reach high valleys of Zagros. They surrender their fate to this great mountain, where men and the animals will find refuge and will temporarily settle, before it is time to undertake this journey once more.

The film is a documentary with elements of drama; a turning point for an era of cinema in which drama was still the main narrative. Although with notable interventions by the author, the documentary still succeeds in portraying the Bakhtiyari tribe in a setting that is rather accurate. In fact, in this way the documentary only further reveals the astonishing reality that’s behind the screen. This is no anthropological voyeurism; the author is simply awed by the immense exploit of the Bakhtiyari, and he has no other intentions but to capture it.

By adding subtle elements of drama and including great narration, the director accomplishes an amazing close up view of this obscure tradition. In this way viewers build a deeper relationship with the nomads, as well as their leader and main protagonist, kalantar Jaffar Qoli – the chief of the Babadi, as a sub-tribe of the Bakhtiyari. Even if the footage was left unedited and crude (as only a nomad’s life can be), the picture still would be of immense intangible value.

Either by intention or by chance, the director sometimes leaves the viewer perplexed as to whether the nomads are acting for the screen or their lives are indeed so cinematic. Either way, there is certainly no question about the film’s power to bring the viewer to a state of contemplation about the nomads, their past – and their future.

One could say this is the best metaphor of life itself. It refers to every struggle and obstacle that only life can throw at us. In every shot, it never fails to give the most beautiful tribute to a man who battles Nature (or only his own nature) – all just to survive, and at the very next moment to continue the same battle.

It really is an Odyssey. You can clearly see Jaffar rising up to meet his duty, as many other kalantars did before him. Instead of a vast sea and a beaten boat, there is an unforgiving Persian soil, his exhausted companions and herds of livestock. There’s no Ithaca, but the refuge he seeks lies in the valleys of harsh Zagros mountains. In order to reach these mountains one must undertake a great effort, with trouble lurking behind every rock, that can make this effort futile in a second.

***

Throughout history there has always been danger and temptation for the Bakhtiyari, but it seems like it was never enough to deter them from the traditional paths. It is a story from which all of us can learn a great deal.

The documentary is a homage to a hardworking and simple people, who do not choose to change their ways. By choosing hardship over comfort, the Bakthtiyari choose simplicity over confusion, freedom over career – living over existing.

There is a beauty to this film. Every time you watch it, you have the feeling you are rediscovering a whole other world once again. In a world full of distractions, it is unlikely that such a small group of people have managed to stay free and untamed by civilization for so long. Although vulnerable, to this day the nomads continue to prosper.

This is the message that the picture is trying to send; to give the nomads the acknowledgement they deserve, and to ourselves, maybe, a chance to pursue our own freedom.

The Jinn of Mehmed Siyah Qalam

2021-04-08T16:12:34+02:00

Jinn (sg. jinni) are supernatural beings in Arabian folklore; some regard them as angels and some as demons, yet they are neither. While man was built from clay and angels from light, as related in the Quran, jinn were created from smokeless fire. And so these creatures were cast into being: with their own powers and free will and the troubles that come with it. In the many stories told about them in “Arabian nights”, jinn posses people and make them commit heinous crimes, but they also grant wishes and give gifts, and visit poets to inspire them with art. The chaos and the confusion they could cause has earned them a spot in the Arabic language; the word for crazy, majnūn (مجنون) means “possessed by a jinni”.

Jinn are invisible to humans, but they do on occasion present themselves in the form of animals, plants, human-like beings or even inanimate objects. The ancient collection of jinn illustrations, known as Mehmed Siyah Qalam (known in Turkish as Siyah Kalem, meaning "Black Pen") contains around eighty paintings of jinn, who are represented as anthropomorphic beings.

While man was built from clay and angels from light, jinn were created from smokeless fire.

It is unknown exactly when and how Mehmed Siyah Qalam came into existence. As the pictures are of varying sizes and artistic styles (many of them influenced by Chinese, Persian, Turkish or Mongol artistic traditions), it is believed that the collection was compiled over several centuries, receiving its current form in the late 14th and early 15th century. One theory is that it might have served as a storytelling prop at the Persian royal court.

Most of the illustrations in Siyah Qalam show jinn, but some also contain historically valuable portrayals of nomadic life, as well as rituals related to the last rites and the culture of the dead.

Even though jinn predate the Quran, they have been acknowledged in it and later as Islam spread across the world so did the they. They found their place in a wide range of cultures, from the Maghreb to the Balkans and Middle-East, all the way to Indonesia. These mythical beings are even present in today’s Western World. The word jinni has been anglicized to genie, and the stories from “Arabian nights” have served as the inspiration for Disney’s classic “Aladdin”, with Robin Williams’ as the benevolent Genie. They have been among us for many centuries and it seems that they will stay for many more to come, with all the mischief, apathy and good will that they had with them so far.

Many of the portrayals of jinn have been inspired by the illustrations in Mehmed Siyah Qalam. The collection is nowadays kept at Topkapi Palace Museum in Istanbul, where it is believed to have arrived following the Ottoman war with Persia in 1514.