Celebrating Norooz, or Persian New Year as an Armenian
By Liana Aghajanian on
March 20th, 2010
the haft sin table/ © ianyanmag
I would be lying if I said that I solely identified myself as an
Armenian. With my family from Tehran and a maternal grandmother from
Tabriz who spoke Armenian, Farsi and Turkish, I have as much Iranian
influence running through my veins as I do Armenian and American.
My parents grew up during a time in Iran when life was good. They
could wear whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, listen to all
the Western television their heart desired and hang Beatles' posters
on their wall without anyone ever telling them `no.'
As Armenian as they were, they were also Persian and everything - from
the food, to the music, to the traditions have been passed down to my
sister and I in the most charming way. Not because it was forced, or
written into our daily lives, but because we were genuinely
interested.
Last year, I requested a Persian cook book from my mother, and without
even thinking twice, she trotted down to Westwood, better known as
Tehrangeles and bought me one. At work, I catch myself searching
endlessly for Persian songs from yesteryear. When we sing `Happy
Birthday,' at gatherings, it always comes in threes: English,
Armenian and in Farsi. I can sing the Iranian national anthem by
heart, ingrained in me from years and years of watching Persian public
access channels.
It is rooted deep in me and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Along with the cuisine, music and other cultural influences, it has
become a tradition to celebrate Nowruz (Norooz), or Persian New Year
in my family.
Falling on the Spring equinox, Nowruz is a 13 day celebration with
rich, ancient rituals and customs that usher in the new year. Nowruz
includes `Khouneh Tekouni' meaning Spring Cleaning, `Chaharshanbe
Suri,' which literally translates `Red Wednesday' but involves
jumping over bonfires while singing a traditional song. Nowruz is also
celebrated in Afghanistan, Azerbaijan and in Kurdish communities.
Perhaps the most symbolic part of Nowruz is the `Haft Sin' table,
which contains seven items that all start with the letter `S.' They
include:
- Sabzeh (lentils or barley): symbolizing good fortune
- Samanu (sweet pudding): symbolizing fertility and affluence
- Sir (garlic): symbolizing medicine
- Senjed (fruit from the oleaster tree); symbolizing love
- Sib (apples): symbolizing health and beauty
- Sumac (sumac berries): symbolizing the color of the sunrise
- Serkeh (vinegar): symbolizing age and patience
The table can also include candles (happiness), coins (wealth),
goldfish in water (life within life) and a holy book (Qur'an, Bible,
Torah) or a poetry book (Hafez)
coins symbolizing wealth on a haft sin table/ © ianyanmag
The most interesting and exciting part of this setup is the
Hafez-reading, in which fortunes are read around the table in
accordance with the proverbial poems of the Persian lyric poet Hafez.
If there's anyone you want your future determined by, it's a mystic
poet who talks about love, life, wine and karma.
This year, one by one the fortunes were read, each of which I
requested translation into English for, because as it turns out, I
left Iran too young to ever fully absorb the language. Many of the
fortunes were funny ('you're the full package,' `don't delay what
should be done!' interpreted by my aunt as a call to get married
sooner rather than later) and then there were thoughtful ones
('listen to the advise of those around you, these are the people that
will help you succeed') and still, somber ('you have a heaviness and
sorrow in your heart that has been weighing you down.')
The Divan of Hafez, book of poetry/ © ianyanmag
Of course, I know I'm probably butchering the twice-translated
proverb, but you get the idea.
Whatever was read out loud, in the most beautiful, lyrical Farsi from
my parents, my uncles and their cousins, I waited with baited breath
to understand. I wanted more. I was hungry for this tradition that was
so old, yet still alive.
I'm Armenian, but I celebrate Persian New Year. I revel in it. It is
much a part of me as the 4th of July.
To me, being Armenian doesn't symbolize an all inclusive club where
only one set of traditions are observed and one language spoken. We
are an amazingly diverse group of ancient people, who have, through
the years, influenced and been influenced by a set of beautifully rich
and magnetizing cultures, and denying this would be doing a
disservice.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that simply speaking, diversity is
good. Embrace it. And get your fortune read.
Happy New Year!
http://www.ianyanmag.com/?p=2160
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
By Liana Aghajanian on
March 20th, 2010
the haft sin table/ © ianyanmag
I would be lying if I said that I solely identified myself as an
Armenian. With my family from Tehran and a maternal grandmother from
Tabriz who spoke Armenian, Farsi and Turkish, I have as much Iranian
influence running through my veins as I do Armenian and American.
My parents grew up during a time in Iran when life was good. They
could wear whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, listen to all
the Western television their heart desired and hang Beatles' posters
on their wall without anyone ever telling them `no.'
As Armenian as they were, they were also Persian and everything - from
the food, to the music, to the traditions have been passed down to my
sister and I in the most charming way. Not because it was forced, or
written into our daily lives, but because we were genuinely
interested.
Last year, I requested a Persian cook book from my mother, and without
even thinking twice, she trotted down to Westwood, better known as
Tehrangeles and bought me one. At work, I catch myself searching
endlessly for Persian songs from yesteryear. When we sing `Happy
Birthday,' at gatherings, it always comes in threes: English,
Armenian and in Farsi. I can sing the Iranian national anthem by
heart, ingrained in me from years and years of watching Persian public
access channels.
It is rooted deep in me and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Along with the cuisine, music and other cultural influences, it has
become a tradition to celebrate Nowruz (Norooz), or Persian New Year
in my family.
Falling on the Spring equinox, Nowruz is a 13 day celebration with
rich, ancient rituals and customs that usher in the new year. Nowruz
includes `Khouneh Tekouni' meaning Spring Cleaning, `Chaharshanbe
Suri,' which literally translates `Red Wednesday' but involves
jumping over bonfires while singing a traditional song. Nowruz is also
celebrated in Afghanistan, Azerbaijan and in Kurdish communities.
Perhaps the most symbolic part of Nowruz is the `Haft Sin' table,
which contains seven items that all start with the letter `S.' They
include:
- Sabzeh (lentils or barley): symbolizing good fortune
- Samanu (sweet pudding): symbolizing fertility and affluence
- Sir (garlic): symbolizing medicine
- Senjed (fruit from the oleaster tree); symbolizing love
- Sib (apples): symbolizing health and beauty
- Sumac (sumac berries): symbolizing the color of the sunrise
- Serkeh (vinegar): symbolizing age and patience
The table can also include candles (happiness), coins (wealth),
goldfish in water (life within life) and a holy book (Qur'an, Bible,
Torah) or a poetry book (Hafez)
coins symbolizing wealth on a haft sin table/ © ianyanmag
The most interesting and exciting part of this setup is the
Hafez-reading, in which fortunes are read around the table in
accordance with the proverbial poems of the Persian lyric poet Hafez.
If there's anyone you want your future determined by, it's a mystic
poet who talks about love, life, wine and karma.
This year, one by one the fortunes were read, each of which I
requested translation into English for, because as it turns out, I
left Iran too young to ever fully absorb the language. Many of the
fortunes were funny ('you're the full package,' `don't delay what
should be done!' interpreted by my aunt as a call to get married
sooner rather than later) and then there were thoughtful ones
('listen to the advise of those around you, these are the people that
will help you succeed') and still, somber ('you have a heaviness and
sorrow in your heart that has been weighing you down.')
The Divan of Hafez, book of poetry/ © ianyanmag
Of course, I know I'm probably butchering the twice-translated
proverb, but you get the idea.
Whatever was read out loud, in the most beautiful, lyrical Farsi from
my parents, my uncles and their cousins, I waited with baited breath
to understand. I wanted more. I was hungry for this tradition that was
so old, yet still alive.
I'm Armenian, but I celebrate Persian New Year. I revel in it. It is
much a part of me as the 4th of July.
To me, being Armenian doesn't symbolize an all inclusive club where
only one set of traditions are observed and one language spoken. We
are an amazingly diverse group of ancient people, who have, through
the years, influenced and been influenced by a set of beautifully rich
and magnetizing cultures, and denying this would be doing a
disservice.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that simply speaking, diversity is
good. Embrace it. And get your fortune read.
Happy New Year!
http://www.ianyanmag.com/?p=2160
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress