Going to school, albeit an international one, completely submerged me into Iranian culture. While on one hand I was able to listen in and absorb all that was being said and done around me, at the same time it gave me an idea of what my fellow students thought about the ongoings outside of the country. In one exchange, which I can’t recall whether was for or against the topic at hand, my classmate Arash asked the group of listeners gathered around him, “Do you know for how long each day they show cartoons in the US? Twenty-four hours!” For some this came as unbelievable or an exaggeration, however, others were convinced based on the signs they had already seen. Case in point on one weekend (which we quickly learned was a solitary Friday) when we were at a relative’s house, the TV was on and I immediately recognized a Saturday morning cartoon in between cartoons about a kid being lonely and singing to that effect. While most of the bit was dubbed in Persian, his singing of “I’m lonely, I want someone to play with me” remained in English, emphasizing the point about the never-ending cartoon reservoir in the US. I knew the first few lines of the song although after the line "I want someone to spend the day with me" I would incorrectly continue it as "I'm lonely, lonely, lonely yes indeed" followed by "have a Pepsi day".
"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...
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