The Newlyweds (3)

In such a short time, I have become unsure of my husband


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The Newlyweds (3)
by laleh haghighi
08-Oct-2008
 

PART 3 (part 1) (part 2)
(part 4)

From: Ms. Firoozeh L.
132567 C…… Avenue
Canoga Park, CA
USA

January 28, 2…

To: Mrs. Sedigheh M….
186 Khiabane K…., Plaque B-2
Tehran, IRAN

Khaleh Joon,

Before anything else, I want you to know that I am well, and very sorry to have remained silent for so long after my departure from Iran.  Before I give you my news, I would like to ask you to please not communicate anything I tell you in this or other letters to Papa Joon or Mahrokh Khanoom.  Not that I would expect you to.  You have always been a precious and loyal confidant to me.  Indeed, you have been the closest thing to what I can call a real mother ever since I was a child.  

Khaleh joon, now again, you are the only I can confide my real thoughts to as a newly married woman in a strange land. How I wish I could elate you with the typical joys and happy anecdotes that must be the norm for most newlyweds!  Instead, I am filled with anxiety and fear for my marriage and my new life here.

I can see you now standing at your kitchen counter, the letter in your hand, shaking your head and smiling that sad “I told you so” smile of yours.  You were against this marriage from the get-go and indeed, you had your points.  To get married to a virtual stranger (he is distantly related to my stepmother of course, but that doesn’t exactly bide well for me does it?) and move to a faraway country where I have no connections, no family, no shoulder to cry on, well that was surely crazy in your eyes.   

But Khaleh Joon, I don’t know how to explain it.  I felt like I was being pushed along by this huge wave in the ocean leading me away from shore and there was no way of stopping it.  And truth be told, although I was mostly terrified by this unknown horizon I was being led to, I was also a bit thrilled too.  Loneliness, dear Khaleh, can be the worst of pains.  And in that house that was supposed to be my “home”, but where I always felt like an unwanted guest ever since Mahrokh Khanoom moved in, I thought sometimes that I could literally die from loneliness.   

So when Shahab came along, with so much fanfare and so much attention heaped upon me, his avalanche of sweet words, his extravagant gifts for me, I could not help but feel flattered and elated that someone so charismatic, so attractive, someone who has traveled all over the world and made Amrika his home, would find me, the invisible mouse who lived in a hole in the wall of her own home, interesting, or appealing.  It all happened so fast.   

I know you will blame, perhaps rightly so, Mahrokh Khanoom for this speedy wedding.  No doubt she has been dreaming for years how to get rid of this unwanted stepchild, the only reminder left in Papa Joon’s house of my dear, late mother.  But my stepmother is not entirely to blame.  I could have said “no” in the end after all and I would just have had to endure more of those sly looks, those double-edged comments, those thousand and one cruelties and small humiliations that have been part of my daily diet for the past twenty or so years.

With Shahab, I dared to dream that I could be happy, that he would rescue me from this lonely, loveless existence.  I thought, perhaps naively, that even if I had not fallen head over heels in love with my husband, that the respect and admiration I had for him, a self-made man who made his fortune in the United States starting from nothing, would be enough to live my life side by side with him in harmony.  

But Khaleh Joon, ever since I stepped foot into my new life as a married woman, I have so far been stunned and disappointed.  In such a short time, I have become unsure of my husband.  Though I want to trust him and live with him, I have come to doubt his words and fear his temper.  It started from the minute he greeted me at the airport and took me home.  After all that Shahab had boasted to us all about his grand life in the United States, his mansion in the hills overlooking Hollywood, his fleet of automobiles, his successful chain of restaurants, you can imagine my surprise when he picked me up at the airport in an old, beaten-up looking car that even Kazem, our gardener, would have scoffed at!   

I was so exhausted and disoriented from my long flight that I did not even make any comments.  And so, we drove to an area of Los Angeles that, far from being a lush hill, is as flat and devoid of greenery as a desert.  We ended up in this sad-looking apartment complex the likes of which even the most down on his luck Tehrani would be ashamed to call home.  Shahab led me into his one bedroom flat wordlessly and I just remember sinking into the stinking, hot bed, relieved to find some rest at last.

When I woke, I found that Shahab had already unpacked my suitcases, even going to the trouble of taking my passport, cash and other personal belongings to his safety deposit box at the bank, while I was asleep.  He had also arranged a small platter of cold cuts and two glasses of beer for us, which he had placed on top of the kitchen counter, since he does not even have a breakfast table in his apartment.  I refused the beer and asked for some water, to which he made some facetious remark about the fact that we did not live under the Islamic regime anymore and I could do as I pleased.   

Over this dinner of sorts, Shahab proceeded to explain to me that due to the several months he had spent in Iran courting me and the great expenses he had undergone for our engagement and wedding and subsequently to arrange my visa to the United States, his restaurant business had greatly suffered and he had been obligated to sell all his assets:  His restaurants, his house and his cars.  He added that he had to file for bankruptcy, and that this apartment was all he could afford right now.   

He said this with great calm and ease while on the other hand, I was dumbfounded.  How could a few months of vacation have destroyed the work of thirty years of blood, sweat and tears that he had poured into his self-described Hollywood empire? And why hadn’t he told me of his troubles during the several months that I was awaiting my visa in Iran, where I could have perhaps sought the help and advice of my father to bail us out of this worrisome situation?   

When I pressed him on these points, he became angry, punching the wall with such ferocity that it left a hole.  He spat out quite venomously that he did not go to Iran to get married to just another gold-digger, which he could have found right here in L.A.  Tears welled up in my eyes at his violent action and harsh, unjust words for me. I protested that I never cared for any of the material things he promised but that I was just shocked that he would begin our married life by keeping secret such a huge ordeal that would affect both our lives.  “Is this the welcome that you have been planning for me on my very first day of marriage in a new country and a new home?” I cried bitterly.   

To his credit, Shahab apologized immediately and changed his tune.  He became once more the sweet natured and soft-spoken man that had nothing but kindness and praise for me in Iran.  Taking me in his arms, he caressed my hair and hugged me tight until I stopped sobbing.  He brought me a glass of fresh water and some Kleenex to wipe away my tears.  He explained to me in a by now completely calm voice that these things happen quite often in Amrika, that fortunes are made and reversed overnight but with the love of a good woman like me, he would undoubtedly get back on his feet and soon, we would be able to enjoy the luxurious lifestyle that he had boasted about, and that he wanted nothing more than for his Princess to enjoy.  I repeated to him that luxury meant nothing to me, that I just wanted us to always be kind to each other and confide in each other about our troubles, so that there would be no secrets or lies between us and that we could help each other.  He kissed me and promised that he would try to rise up to be worthy of his wife.

Well, Khaleh Joon, two days later, he took the two Tabrizis that Papa gifted us for our wedding and all the jewellery that my family and Shahab himself had given me in Iran during our engagement and for the wedding ceremony, and save for my wedding band, he sold them all, to clear up some of the debts that he had accumulated.  He even tried to get a cash refund on the Mexican honeymoon that you had so generously gifted us with and I can tell you that he was especially resentful when he found out that the package was not refundable. “Let’s go enjoy it anyway, perhaps some tequila and lime will take our minds off our troubles!” He announced with some forced cheerfulness.  

Which brings me to how this letter arrived to you so late.  I had written to you earlier and given the envelope to Shahab to take it to the post office.  Being a newcomer to this country, I feel so lost and rely on Shahab for everything, including something so simple as mailing a letter. Then several days later, while I was cleaning up in preparation of our departure to Mexico, I realized with horror that my letter to you, opened and torn into pieces, had been stuffed down one of the wastebaskets.    

I am afraid of confronting my husband about this event and prefer to let things lie calmly lest he becomes angry again.  Perhaps Mahrokh Khanoom warned him against your influence over me.  Maybe he was ashamed for anyone to find out in Iran what has happened to his fortune.  He always tells me that things between husband and wife should remain private.  He often likes to tell me, over and over again: “Harfe khooneh ro biroon nazan.”  But I have always been used to telling you everything.  Sometimes I feel you are my only friend in the world.  And so, I decided to write you a second letter, which this time hopefully has made its way to you through the kindness of some fellow Iranians we met during our stay in Mexico.  I don’t know yet when I will be able to correspond with you again.  Please do not try to write me or to call me for now at home.  I will try to find a safer and more secure way to communicate.  Until then, I kiss you and hug you warmly.

Love,

Firoozeh >>> part 4

(part 1) (part 2) (part 4)


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To be fair

by Anonymous Reader (not verified) on Sat Oct 11, 2008 08:56 AM PDT

Yes, to be fair I know of five intercontinental marriages that are working perfectly so far. Interestingly enough, as a personal observation, all five of them are of traditional gender roles, with the husbands professionally employed and the women being housewives and raising their children. One family is practicing the peaceful doctrine of Islam and other four do not openly practice any religion. It's been only recently that one of the women is taking some courses in collage toward a degree while their daughter is off to school. So there are many good examples of successful marriages where one of the spouses is from the other side of the world.


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laleh haghighi

A collective thank you...

by laleh haghighi on Fri Oct 10, 2008 02:40 PM PDT

... to all of you who have taken the time to write their comments and take interest not only in this particular story but on the very real social and cultural issues that it is based on.  Good points were brought up in all the comments.  I often think there must be a degree of wilful blindness on the part of the person entering into a union with a person whose behavior should have rang alarm bells right away.  Often, the person suffers from extremely low self esteem to begin with which, coupled with the abuse, leaves them totally incapable of making any decision on their own, let alone leave their spouse, without whom they firmly believe they will not survive, no matter how abusive the situation. 

In another point, I find that the abuse starts off slow, with the abuser testing the boundaries of the spouse little by little.  By the time, the abuse has become a daily, egregious ritual, their psychological hold on the person is so strong that pretty much, they are guaranteed obedience.

Let's not also forget the pressure, from society as a whole and sometimes from the immediate family for these marriages to happen and to last.  Too often, I hear the parents or other immediate family members advise the abused spouse, whether it is a woman or a man (and believe me there are plenty of men too who get mistreated by their wives), that they should stick it out.  The reasons vary from aberoo reezee, to the sake of the children, and one time I heard the parents tell their daughter to stick it out so she can apply for their green card once she gets her citizenship.  That girl later attempted to take her own life through an overdose of prescription medicine but that's a whole other story...sigh...

By the way, these types of problems are not limited to intercontinental marriages only and are the type to happen in any relationship in which there is an imbalance of power.  By the same token, there is absolutely no evidence that all marriages that happen between one spouse from Iran and one who lives abroad end up being abusive.  I can cite much anecdotal evidence too of the marriages that have been extremely successful.  However, for the sake of a fictional story, as I have said before, it may not make for a very interesting read ("And they lived happily ever after.  With lots of children.  In a nice house.  The end.")

Back to the issue here, do they know what the are getting into when entering these unions? Probably. Do they close their eyes and hope for the best anyway?  Surely.  Do they deserve the community's help in helping them get back on their feet after they have finally found the will to leave this situation? Absolutely.  


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KouroshS: You're correct

by Anonymous Reader (not verified) on Thu Oct 09, 2008 08:23 PM PDT

I should've said: "...with encouragement from another 'chiropractic' friend of his, he took a couple of courses 'towards' a chiropractic degree...".
Thank you for the correction.


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TheMrs

Khaleh Joon Ghorboonetam

by TheMrs on Thu Oct 09, 2008 07:34 PM PDT

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8EAcnEmcCM&feature=related

Khaleh joon chaakeratam

Chaareh kon ghamo dardeh mano

... God I wish it was that easy.

 


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sanazi

Laleh khanoum

by sanazi on Thu Oct 09, 2008 06:06 PM PDT

I am very much enjoying the series. The theme of your story is very intriguing! Please keep the series coming!


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Ananymous reader...

by KouroshS (not verified) on Thu Oct 09, 2008 05:23 PM PDT

Horrifying stories. One thing which is totally unrelated to the topic of our discussion, but got my attention regardless, is that People jjust don't go and take chiropractic courses! it is a 4-year degree and you MUST be admitted before you do anything else.


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For Ms. nemati

by KouroshS (not verified) on Thu Oct 09, 2008 04:47 PM PDT

Ms. nemati.

please let's not use the term "victim"

and apply that to describe the situation of such women as if they did not know what they were signing up for or that there was no way for them to find out what type of men they were dealing with. Please. In this day and age no womencan be this naive and weak, particularly In a country where for so many years we have been reading about how woman outnumber men in colleges and universities, and how smart and self-sufficient they have become. becauseLet's face it, those who get to meet and marry a man from abroad, do not usually reside in some remote village in Mazandaran or Hormozgan, and live in the big and major cities, and so they are, or at least
should be smart enough to think before they take the leap.
They should know better not to trust any amale and akare who pops before them and lays claim to a vast fortune, anywhere in the world.
I don't think that nowadays a man, be it a brother or anyone else for that matter, could force a woman to stay dependent for any reason.Unless the woman wants to remain dependent,There is always a way out if the woman is intereted in finding out how.

I guess one of the biggest reasons some iranian women
in iran fall so fast for certain men would be the pressure they are sometimes under by their parents, who rush them into making a decision and they have to
instantly make up their mind. Well, guess what, They should resist the pressure and act wisely and not be fooled. But if they insist on Lying on the path of getting abused and mistreated, then they should pay the price of "falling in love".


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I have more time now

by Anonymous Reader (not verified) on Thu Oct 09, 2008 03:45 PM PDT

Very well done.

I’ve heard of a few stories of Iranian intercontinental marriages myself. These fraudulent misconducts runs both in Iranian man who go back to fetch a bride from back home, usually several years younger, and Iranian woman back home who marry off themselves to a loveless marriage to get out of Iran. It’s great that your story is about this subject. This social phenomenon has to be explored more.

Personally I know of a couple of stories myself. One of them is about a close friend of mine who is a half decent professional engineer who married a beautiful female in Iran, but once she came here it turned out that she was in love with an Iranian doctor who had broken off his relationship with her and had migrated to the USA. After being married to my friend for three months she supposedly went to visit her family in another state, but it turned out that she was going after her ex-boyfriend from Iran who once again rejected her. Needless to say once my friend found out he divorced her. In his words she never asked to be taken back, and if he had gone after her he would he lost his honor, “sherafmo az dast medadam”. The last thing I heard of her was that she was living with an Iranian car dealership owner without being married to him, and even though the guy seems to care about her, she lives a wide life of partying and over spending money and even trying to work as a dentist.

Another story is of an acquaintance of mine, who was basically an arrogant idiot who was living off his landowner father of his back home while he was supposedly going to school here. He was basically a low life who even once tried to force himself on a woman who had rejected his advances. After supposedly graduating from university, not being able to find a job in his field of study, because he was basically a spoiled idiot, he eventually worked as waiter in Denny’s Restaurant with the help of one of his friends was the manager there, and while he was working there, with encouragement from another friend of his, he took a couple of courses in chiropractics, went back to Iran and sold himself as a doctor, got married while he was still married here in the USA to an American citizen for his green card. He eventually brought his Iranian wife here, divorced his previous wife, and finally kicked his pregnant wife in her tummy and caused her to have a miscarriage. The last thing I heard she moved back to Iran.

And then there was this imported bride that marry herself off to a very nice and decent man but only because she was interested in another man in the USA. After she divorced herself from her first husband and marries the other one she found out the man of her dream was an abusive man, and now she is sorry for divorcing her first husband.

Anyway, very nice writing and looking forward to read some more.


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laleh haghighi

Fictional yet based on reality

by laleh haghighi on Thu Oct 09, 2008 08:07 AM PDT

Dear Ms. Nemati:

Thank you for your detailed comment and the interest you have taken in this story.  Though this story is fictional, it is based unfortunately on the reality similar to what you describe.  Through my work with battered women, I have come across many "Firoozehs" whose stories are both devastating and eerily similar.  Sometimes, the reality is so dire that it is too difficult to translate into fiction and I cannot even bring myself to talk about the miseries I have witnessed.  I could not even deal with it directly so i decided to create a character and a story that is an amalgam of several dozens of women I got to know through my experience.  This writing is both therapeutic for me and also, I hope it will help others, if only to raise awareness that this sort of thing is happening often right under our noses.

Thank you again for your eloquent and thoughtful response to this story. 


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Newlyweds

by Azam (not verified) on Thu Oct 09, 2008 06:12 AM PDT

As a woman who is used to see victims like you (and sometimes going out of my way to help them) and hear their stories, it never gets less painful for me. It is ironic that last night I had to practically yell at a woman with similar situation like you (except that she is not as eloquent or intelligent as you) whom I finally took to be sworn in as a citizen, on Saturday, was talking about her five years ordeal ,but still though divorce is a bad thing.

She had lived in the US for two years and had Green card because of her brothers (who are the culprit for having sheltered her and never let her be independent) but this prince charming took her to an actual mansion (where he worked as a handyman) and told her the place was his and the Mercedes was his as well!

They went back to Iran where he had promised her they would live but he decided to come back to US. Make a long story short, he actually lived in a poor, urban neighborhood and this only daughter of a middle class Iranian family had to sweep you know what every morning in a very bad area of Philadelphia. He would not let her turn on the heat and basically did not allow her to drive, associate with any Iranian women (his excuse was that they would ruin their happy marriage!) and made her work like a slave. That was not the worst part. He also made her ask her family for money and it turned out later, he had used her brother's credit card and charged up as well as applied for credit under her name, had her sign papers for mortgage and ended up taking $400k home equity and the money went to his mother in Iran.

I ran into her parents at the airport in 2007 and unfortunately for me (because I a m a moron who feels people's pain) I went and began talking to these total strangers because they seemed in pain. They told me about their daughter's story , and I gave them my number in the US.

They sent her to me and from the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I had taken on a challenge that would emotionally drain me beyond belief. I found her a job, took her to open an account and for the first time made her work on being independent and I also helped her with her citizenship forms (and called her every day to make sure she was studying instead of thinking about him).

You would think that she will be dancing with joy because her loving family helps her to live in a beautiful one bedroom apartment in a upscale neighborhood, she gets paid about $9 an hour to greet people and has no other worries in the world. But, she has driven me out of my mind because I have to babysit her since she has no common sense, can not drive, and most importantly she thinks God was unkind to her!

What I want to tell you is that people fundamentally do not change. I have been saying that since I was a teen-ager and I am now 53 years old.

Get out or you will end up like this lady (parentally hopeless and blaming yourself). Be smart. If you like to stay here, try and find some educated and helpful Iranian women in your area to help you. Make sure he does not know your password if, you use a computer as well as e-mails. Find the phone number to your local shelter, and if you feel unsafe, immediately call the shelter.
Most importantly, tell him that you want to work to contrite to household income. That will give you an opportunity to work and meet people and also earn money. Your English is very good so you should not have any problem. I wish young women in Iran would not be so vulnerable and believe what most of these men tell them.

The majority of these types of men go to Iran because no intelligent, educated and independent woman would even speak to them. I know because I know many like them who have been here for decades but do not have a steady job and can barely speak English yet they go to Iran and as an "amrikaie" appeal to most young women who think they are all engineers an doctors and live in nice neighborhoods s and drive nice cars, etc.

You have done nothing wrong. Life is an on-going university. Learn from this experience and move on. Good luck.

Azam Nemati


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حیف

خواننده گمنام (not verified)
Wed Oct 08, 2008 06:28 PM PDT

سر کارم وگر نه بیشتر می‌‌نوشتم.


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