5/19/2008

Tasting My Childhood

Local market in Jooybar village of Mazandaran, May 19, 2008. I can almost smell those cucumbers and taste them, crunchy and delicious, in my mouth! Aaahhh, nostalgia! See more photos of the Jooybar market here.
We grew up in the suburb of Tehran. Before my mother got ill with rheumatoid arthritis, she used to go shopping for our fruits and vegetables once a week, each time coming back with a truckload of delicious herbs and produce. Later, we bought our fresh fruits and vegetables from a travelling salesman named Ali Agha. He would come by the house in his small truck with his stock of fresh produce, complete with his scales and those big iron weights, and after my mother had finished her shopping, he would help carry the produce inside. This went on for years and Ali Agha became a familiar face to all of us in the household.
One day Ali Agha came and rang the bell. My mother who had painfully climbed all the way to the the top of the steps to second floor to take a shower, simply couldn't walk back down again to pick her produce herself. She yelled from the top of the second floor to Ali Agha, telling him to bring her fruits and vegetables inside, because there was no one else home. Ali Agha brought the things in. As he entered the house, the house phone rang. My mother asked him to please pick up the phone. He obliged. My father was on the other end of the line. He asked Ali Agha if he had reached the Kaviani residence. Ali Agha said "yes, baleh, befarmaeed!" My father asked him: "Where is Mrs. Kaviani?" Ali Agha said: "She is taking a shower, Khanoom tu hamoom-and." My father asked him: "And may I ask who you are?" Ali Agha said: "I am Ali Agha, the green grocer, man Ali Aghaye sabzi foroosham." Ali Agha then asked my father: "Who are you?" and my father said: "I am the lucky man whose wife is in the shower while the sabzi foroosh answers his call!"
My Mom and Dad told this story for years to come, laughing like lunatics, making the rest of us laugh, too. Those cucumbers reminded me of so much today.

24 comments:

bayramali said...

Nice story , nice story
I can Imagine your father while was telling it
very funny :D

Anonymous said...

Nazy jaan,

Now I know where you get your good sense of humor....from both your parents. I know they are looking down from heaven and laughing with the rest of us. Rouheshaan shaad.

Sincerely,
The guy who has never left a comment until now....

NeghNeghoo said...

Ahhhh good old days nostalgia
مرسی بابت خنده ی اول صبح
زنده باشی

Anonymous said...

That was sooo hilarious Nazy jan. Thank you for sharing the story...
:)) :))
Poor "Ali Agha", I can imagine his face turning red after talking to you father on the phone :))

Have a good day Nazy jan,

Pardis

jeerjeerak said...

hilarious story Nazy joonam. ali-agha-sabzi-foroosh... I am still wearing a huge smile:)

nima said...

hi...i miss this place...i enjoyed the story...have u ever heard about (khiare rasht!)?

Anonymous said...

that was hilarious. My sides hurt from laughing so hard.Love you Nazy jun.
Maryam

مسعود said...

سلام نازی خانم
یکی از دوستان مدتی ست اینجا نمی آید.اهل سیرجان است و شاید از تو یا کسی سیر شده!میشناسی؟

مسعود said...

خوب این یک تست بود تا ببینم کامنتدونی کار میکنه یا نه.دیروز کلی مطلب نوشتم ولی راه نداد

یادش بخیر آنروزها که ته خیارها تلخ بود.حالا دیگه نیست.قدیم ها مردم شوشتر و دزفول از گرما به زیرزمین هایی پناه می بردند که حداقل سی پله بلند میرفت پایین و خیلی خنک بود.در گویش محلی شوادون نام داشتند.
خیار و گوجه و سبزی و اینها را می گذاشتند توی یک سبد و با طناب آویزان میکردند توی چاه مانندی که به فضای شوادون میرسید.این یخچالشان بود و هم کولرشان.شب هم کوزه آب را می گذاشتند لب چینه(هره) بام که خنک شود.و چه گوارا بود.بعد هم پشه بند و آواز رهگذران دور دست و شمردن ستاره ها و....تا صدای خروس. اما امان از خروس بی محل
برقرار باشی

Nazy said...

Salam Bar Aghaye Bayramali:

Heeh! My father could make me laugh anytime! A great storyteller and a good poet himself, it was never a dull moment with him.

Halet chetoreh Agha Bayram? I miss you.

Nazy said...

Dear Anonymous:

So, you finally came out and said something! That's very good, I am honored. I can only hope to be as charming and interesting as my parents were. They were the life of the ball! After my mother passed away, I went to live with my father for a couple of years. He and I spent wonderful times together, just the two of us.

One time I went to my mother's gravesite. She had just passed away and I hadn't yet quite learned how to locate her grave easily. I asked one of the attendants whether he could show me where in that corner of the cemetery Mrs. Kaviani was buried. He said "Which one, the one that is with Professor Shams?" (Professor Shams was the founder of Farabi Eye Hospital of Iran, the first Iranian opthalmologist, a very extraordinary man. His grave is just above my mother's.)

When I went home, I told my father that my mother was now famous for "being with" Professor Shams at the cemetery! The two of us laughed together as we cried, in our minds joking around with my mother.

Be good Anonymous and come back again soon. Say something if you want or not. You are always welcome.

Nazy said...

Salam Neghneghoo Jan:

Heeh, now you see that I'm not all seriousness and tears! I would love to write funny things like you all the time, but the mood only strikes me infrequently!

You have a good Thursday, too.

Nazy said...

Pardis Jan:

I'm glad you laughed a bit! I wasn't home, so I can't tell you whether he blushed or not, but I know I was there when one time my father finally met Ali Agha! It was hilarious, the two of them talking about that day and laughing! My parents were devout moslems and haji's, so the story does have that twist, too, which made it even funnier.

Be good doostam!

Nazy said...

Salam Jeerjeerak Jan:

I hope you are well my sweet friend! Are your "havas parti's" on the downhill slope now?! Is your term almost over? I sure hope to be able to see more of you starting soon.

Love you girl.

Nazy said...

Salam Bar Nima The Gilak:

Of course I have "heard" and "tasted" Khiar-e-Rashti! Gilan has the best produce in the world, and the best rice, and the best cheeses, and the best of everything! I am partial, like you!

I loved how they cut the cucumbers diagonally and served them along with Baghali and Eshbel and Yogurt at Kateh-Kababi-e-Moharram in Rasht! It wouldn't be a proper trip to Rasht if I didn't eat there! I am an Honorary Rashti, you know!

Be good doostam. Please come back again soon.

Nazy said...

Maryam, Maryam!

Heeh! I can't believe you came to visit me! I'm glad you laughed with the story. Of course, you laugh at anything I say, you are so kind to me! I miss you and I want to see your face soon (immediately!).

Nazy said...

سلام مسعود جان. دوست سیرجانی من فریباست که مدتی است از او خبر ندارم و آخرین ارتباطات ما با ایمیل بود. مثل اینکه خیلی ها برای بازکردن کامنت دونی مشکل دارند و نمی توانند به آسانی پیام بگذارند.

از خاطرهء بچگی هایت در خوزستان ممنونم. کلماتت بسیار گویا بودند و تصور آن صحنه را که گفتی آسان می کردند. راست می گویی وای از خروس بی محل که در زندگیم چند باری دیده ام چه مزاحم می تواند باشد. یک خروس یک بار در همدان در منزلی که من مهمان بودم شب ساعت 2 آواز می خواند!

امیدوارم روز خوب و خنکی در اهواز زیبا و پیش اهوازی های مهربان داشته باشی مسعود جان.

مسعود said...

سلام دوباره
من افتخار آشنایی با دوست محترمتان خانم فریبا ندارم،منظورم دوست دیگری ست.اگر اشتباه میکنم و سیرجانی نیستند،چه فرقی میکند،فراموش کرده اید هم را.دوباره فکر کن.کیست که اینجا مدتیست نیامده؟

Nazy said...

سلام مسعود جان. نکند اعلیحضرت حاج آقا، آقا مهران را میگویی؟ که مال کرمان است؟ خیلی خوب سئوالی کردی چون تازگی ها خیلی بدجنس شده است! حتما فردا به او می گویم که شما سراغش را گرفتید! می گوید (البته چاخانی) که می آیم و می خوانم و می روم. حالا فردا ازش می پرسم که این احوالپرسی شما را دیده است یا نه! البته از شوخی گذشته، موسم امتحانات دانشجوجگان عزیز است و کمیاب شده اند! از هفتهء دیگر هیچ عذر و بهانه ای نخواهند داشت! مرسی از معرفتت دوست من.

يكي مثه همه said...

Dear Nazy I laughed a lot for this funny story God bless your parents
but while I was reading the story you wrote in the comments about shams and your mother I couldn't help myself crying!
thank you for the smile and the tear in a minute.
dear Nazy I love the way you write its so amazing and impressing
Love
Halat

Assal said...

Nazy Joonam:

I'm sure you already know this, but your collection of memories and stories deserves to be sitting in bookstore display windows!

The sabzi foroosh story had me laughing until my sides hurt, imagining your sweet dad laughing on the phone with the sabzi foroosh!! Then, your second memory (in the comments)...

I cannot wait until you collect all these stories into a book and I come to your very first book signing with a smile on my face!

Love, Assal

Nazy said...

Beautiful Halat:

Thank you very much for your sweet words. Sorry for the tears. I was smiling as I wrote that part, for it had its own kind of humor for me and my father and my mother.

Are you getting ready for your first anniversary celebration? I'm so excited for you! What exciting plans do you have? Share, share!

Nazy said...

Beautiful Assal:

Keep telling me those words and before you know it, you have helped me get started on that book! I so want to write it Assal! I will go see my friend next week to talk about how to get started. I really want to do it.

Thank you for being my friend, Assal. I mean it. Yes, you could be, and in many ways you are, my daughter. But I cherish the special friendship between us now more than ever. Be good doostam.

Shokaran said...

WONDERFUL!