Moving to Iran

Today we are sitting in our living room in a rented flat in Istanbul, Turkey. It’s a saturday, which means that the country is in full lockdown and we cannot really go outside except for some essential groceries. We have gone through these weekend lockdowns already six times now while waiting and getting things in order, and they remind me of how time is steadily going forward while every single week escapes to the archives of ‘the past’.

We are waiting. Waiting for my passport and Iranian birth certificate “Shenasnameh” finally arrive. And it feels like we have done so since March 2020 when Covid started and my trip to Iran during Nowruz (Iranian New Year) was cancelled. The blur of the next nine months, months of job applications, months of checking travel requirements for Iran, months of trying to read novels to spend just a little time in a different world, months where even my thesis defense was a 5-minute online session, still feels more real than anything that is about to happen. Maybe it will hit as soon as it actually does happen? When we arrive in Tehran and I suddenly cry upon the sight of the mega city on the flank of the magnificent Alborz mountains, like I did last time I saw this familiar sight? Strange to think that, from now on, I will travel there as an Iranian woman. Easy for visa purposes, but how will it affect life in the next decades? Influence identity and choices and circumstances? Maybe it’s better not to ask these questions in advance.

Despite the numbness and the feeling that an entire year was ‘wasted’, I realise today that the waiting was worth it. Even cancelling my offer from a prestigious university for a dreamy masters programme, at the time a risky and uncertain decision, turned out to be worth it. If things had been “normal”, we would not have made the decision to live in Iran together and try out something completely new, completely different. We would have postponed marriage and moving in together for a while longer, at least until I had a stable job in Belgium that could support the both of us.
Today I am very happy that this did not happen. Instead, I am excited for the upcoming year and our prevailing  ‘let’s see what’ll happen and just enjoy the ride’ mind set.

I realised playing safe is not always the correct, or desirable decision especially when it comes to the big decisions in life. What we think is ‘a safe option’, might in fact hit back hard or turn out not to make you any happier. I was applying for jobs non-stop for months on end to no avail, and have spent too much energy and too many hours on trying to get jobs “just for the sake of earning money and having a work contract.” I am sure many of my fellow 2020 graduates experienced something similar.

There was, in fact, no reason to keep going that way. Covid showed us how unpredictable this world is, and there is no way to make sure the regular, safe path, will work out for you. We therefore decided now is the time to take a big leap and try something new. When else would we do it! So very quickly after that, we got married in Turkey, exactly in between Brussels and Tehran. Our goal? To close our eyes, jump and start off this life’s journey together in a completely new way.

I dream to expand Ehsan’s carpet business and bring the true art of woolen, naturally dyed, hand-knotted Persian rugs to the world. I dream of the simple pleasure of pursuing a life together at home and outside, rather than only meeting in far places on holiday. I dream of experiencing excitement again, whether about buying a porcelain tea pot together, making a risky business investment or travel around the country with our tent in search of something new and beautiful.

Novelty, discovery, forward-moving energy. But this time as an end in itself and a central theme in the coming years.