It is hard enough to be a seven year old girl, navigating family, friends, and school. But in 1972, a little girl named Firoozeh had to navigate a move from Iran to a suburb of LA, where she did not know the language, was not familiar with the food, did not have the extended family around for support, and had to function as her mother’s interpreter as well as find her own way. Fortunately for her, her intelligence, her family’s support (mostly!), and probably most importantly, her humor, enabled her to adapt and do so very successfully. This book is essentially a collection of her memories of growing up in this colorful family challenged by the immigrant experience of balancing their own culture and tradition with integrating into the society into which they’ve landed.
First, I have to say that this was a good, light distraction from the other reading I’ve had to do these past 2 weeks! If you’ve been like me, you’ve done more reading about viruses and epidemiology and how pandemics can be mitigated in the past 2 weeks than you’ve ever had in your life – even if you’re in Public Health. So I am thankful that I’ve had something like this to alleviate the anxiety that all of that other reading has caused. I implore you to use this time for more solitary reading — it will be therapeutic for you and it will socially distance you from others, helping to mitigate the spread of this awful coronavirus.
As a memoir, this book was amusing and entertaining to a point, but, I believe, a missed opportunity. Dumas did enrich her stories with the rich flavors and aromas of Iranian cuisines, ceremonial customs, and, in particular, her father’s often comical and endearing personality quirks. And we did get a sense of the warm acceptance into the community her family experienced in 1972, which contrasted drastically with the reception she received when they returned just after Iranian Revolution and the American hostage situation. But other vignettes, such as those about her father’s fascination with Denny’s Restaurant or her uncle’s dieting fads were much less engaging. While an opening into her culture was an opportunity, peeking through a curtain into their family secrets felt almost voyeuristic.
This was less a memoir than a collection of short stories. As such, it was entertaining enough, but did get a bit old after a bit.
Not a “Must Read” but good for a few chuckles.