Friday was the longest night of the year, a holiday observed by the watered down decedents of the Persian Empire by staying up late reading poetry with our families. We didn’t celebrate this year, but today some Iranians I had never met before came to my mother’s apartment. They admired the bulbous brass lamp hanging above the dining room table (now housing a light bulb instead of an oil dish), the old tile on display, a samovar. We drank tea from small glass cups rested in silver holders and discussed the ill-preserved Empire from which they had emigrated and the cherished objects imported and restored in the years since.
It was a valuable lesson in zero waste and recycling.
If the fragile inlay of a mosaic picture frame buckles in the humidity of this non-desert land, wet it down to mold it back into place. Worn antique embroidery should be protected behind glass and mounted on walls. Draw the shades when leaving the house to keep the sun from bleaching silk-woven carpets. Miniatures of kings holding court, couples reclining on plushy cuddler recliners and horses charging can be displayed in shadow boxes built from small shelves covered in black velvet and fitted to a large antique frame. Simple Persian bedspreads can be cut and sewn around cheap pieces of foam to create a luxurious Bedouin effect in any living room, much cheaper than purchasing furniture when one first arrives in a new country.
I looked around at the things that covered the floors and shelves and walls of the rooms I grew up in and saw them for the first time as symbols of a nomadic culture, started long ago on another continent, but carried on by me and my sister as we dutifully cart our carpets and picture frames from one New York apartment to the next. These things were built to weather skirmishes and sand storms. They were designed to be portable. And to last.
Tags: ancient persia, zero waste
everydaytrash 
Tuesday, December 26, 2006 at 10:35 pm |
What a sweet and lovely post. And it sounds like you just celebrated in bit of a different way.
I didn’t know about this tradition; I like to think that my tendency to count down to the longest night of the year so I can look forward to the days getting longer again is some tiny sign of honorary Persian-ness. I’ll pretend.
And…I’ve been collecting examples of things that fall into the category of old methods, machines, and things that work better than new substitutes. All your durable family treasures fit right in.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006 at 12:45 am |
Don’t you worry, you’re just a few kababs away from an honorary passport, though given the political climate, I suggest you turn it down.
Any time you care to share that list of better than the substitutes, a guest blogging spot is yours!
Friday, December 29, 2006 at 5:41 pm |
just a random hit, everydaytrash… hope you have a great new year. peace.
Thursday, December 31, 2009 at 1:46 pm |
[…] #4: As a nomadic people prone to political upheaval and averse to waste, Persians make things meant to last forever, never to be thrown […]
Thursday, September 4, 2014 at 1:44 am |
Du – Juan Harris – RB Green Bay Packers Although
he hinted that he would go back to selling cars in the offseason, I have a feeling that Du – Juan Harris
will not be on any car lot at the beginning of the 2013 NFL season. It is
Tennessee’s Rocky Top, Florida’s Old Ball Coach, and of course the
Gator Chomp and the mighty Tim Tebow. So besides the fact that both sports are being played with 11 players
on the field, the similarity ends here.