Abadan 1971? From left: Iran Davar Ardalan, Jahanshah Javid, Karim Ardalan, Mani Ardalan, Michell (Iran) Javid

Between the ages of ten and eleven, the Ardalan family traveled from Tehran to Abadan to spend the Noruz holidays with the Javid family—two blissful weeks celebrating Persian New Year and Bakhtiari hospitality. My most vivid memories are surrounded by feelings of family warmth, shared over delicious meals and desserts prepared creatively by Aunt Shireen and her daughters, Soraya and Sue-san. Soraya and Sue-san had just come back from Cordon Bleu cooking school in London and were eager to impress us with their skills.

Aunt Shireen’s lovely white house was located in Braim, a long palm-lined boulevard where all the prominent oil company employees lived. It was a one-story house with shutters and a porch of niches encircling most of its perimeter. The house was filled with Aunt Shireen’s special Persian paintings on glass, sparkling with glitter. She also had an unusual collection of glass paperweights that fascinated me. We all slept on the floor in a large room to the right of the dining room. There were large fans in the ceilings and I remember staring up at them at night, trying to fall asleep amidst all the excitement and the bed time stories that her son, Jahanshah, used to tell.

In the daytime we used to go for long walks in the peaceful neighborhood. Sometimes we picked berries and apples from nearby trees, hoping not to get caught. Sometimes we went to a little grocery store that had ice cream and our favorite Nestle Toll House morsels that were used by the “Bakhtiari Bakers” to create their chocolate chip cookies. A special treat I loved were Chinese Snow Balls. Occasionally we went to the American Club to watch American movies and have hamburger with French fries by the pool.

Aunt Shireen always decorated an elaborate and tasteful haft-sin table (seven items beginning with the Persian letter s). She brought a certain vitality to the white house with her flaming hair and colorful folkloric outfits she used to wear then. In addition to Noruz, we also celebrated the birthdays of Iran (Davar) and Iran (Michelle). That was back in the old days when they used to be Iran A. and Iran J! The three of us would dress alike, like triplets and we always played together. Once we put on a show for our parents by dressing up as singers, sitting on three stools, each with a microphone, lip synching to songs by Googosh, a popular Iranian singer. We had a monopoly on the attention then, other than when Karim stole the show by being the cutest baby of the family!

All in all the days were filled with sunshine and childhood carefreeness and the nights were filled with food, fun and family. I’m grateful for the bits and pieces I recall, kept alive mostly by photographs. If there’s a story here it’s a story about the memories of childhood, the importance of family reunions, the timelessness of photographs and the need to share these and other stories for those who were not there and those who have yet to come.

Mani Ardalan Farhadi