Heeding the call of ancestry
As reporter Steve Zind explores Iranian roots, he uncovers a complex country
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Two Iranian women reveal their careful attention paid to their hair and make-up inside an Iranian movie theater. Outside, on the street, they must conform to hejab by covering their hair and concealing the shapes of their bodies. Photo by Steve Zind |
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By Stefan Hard TIMES ARGUS STAFF - Published: March 11, 2009
For most of his life, Steve Zind of Braintree gave little thought to his Iranian ancestry. If anything, Zind's goal, as an American-born citizen who looked ethnically different than his peers, was to strive to be more American than the average American.
Later, as a radio station disc jockey and program director for radio station WNCS in central Vermont and now as a reporter for Vermont Public Radio, Zind has continued to immerse himself in American political and popular culture, both from a personal interest, and for the benefit of his media professions.
Then, in of all places — inside the Tunbridge Town Hall, covering Fred Tuttle's run for Congress against Jack McMullen for VPR in 1998, Zind unexpectedly faced his Persian ancestry in the form of a bold comment by a visitor to Vermont. Since that evening, Zind has embarked on an unrelenting journey to explore the land, people, and culture of his grandfather's Iran, most recently on the eve of the 30th anniversary of the Iranian Islamic Revolution.
"I owe it all to Fred Tuttle," says Zind, chuckling as he sipped tea in a Montpelier café recently.
"There was a photographer there (at Tuttle's election night party) covering Tuttle for Time Magazine — I forget his name," said Zind, "and he stops, points to me, and says, 'Persian.'" Zind was taken aback by the forward comment and really never recovered, not because he considered the comment impolite or in any way offensive, but because he hadn't really considered his ethnicity to be so apparent to a complete stranger.
"It triggered something inside me," said Zind.
Zind chatted with the photographer, who lived in New York City and was observant of the different looks of ethnic groups who make up that great urban melting pot. The next time Zind looked in the mirror, he saw something different.
"I knew my grandfather was Iranian," said Zind, whose father grew up in French-occupied southern Lebanon and later moved his family to Ohio, where Zind grew up. "My father used to tell me stories about illustrious (Persian) ancestors who had their throats cut and ears cut off in insurrections or whatever — a common punishment at the time."
Zind's grandfather's name was Muhammed Ali Zand. Zind's father, Faragallah Zind, had the family's name legally changed in the U.S. because of confusion over how his written name should be pronounced.
The grandfather was a well-respected doctor who immigrated to Lebanon from Iran and remarried a much younger woman late in life, fathering Zind's dad at age 70. Zind's grandfather was also remembered for his efforts to see his children be well-educated, including his daughters, which was rare in that part of the world.
Soon after Zind's epiphany at the Tuttle party, he began talking to family members about his Iranian ancestry and began reading avidly about Iran. His family's original name, Zand, was a widely respected name in Iran. Karim Khan Zand was a powerful, popular, and benign Iranian ruler for about 30 years in the 1700s, and many towns and cities in Iran still have a Zand Street in his honor.
All this intrigued Zind. The road seemed to be paved for him to visit Iran for the first time in 2004, some 25 years after the Islamic Revolution in Iran and the taking of American hostages by the students at the American embassy there, an episode that severely strained relations between Iran and U.S. Planning the first trip, Zind asked his younger brother, Rick Zand (who had changed his name back to its original form) to go to Iran with him. Initially uninterested, Rick eventually agreed, and the two took a three-week tour of the country in 2004 after obtaining tourist visas that are rarely issued to Americans.
Zind and his brother found a country replete with rugged landscapes of jagged mountains and arid plateaus, but with shores on the Caspian Sea, and lush parks in nearly every town. Zind especially enjoyed visiting small mountainside villages where everyone knows everyone, and a distant relative was found in the hillside city of Shiraz. In later visits, Zind has spent much of his time in the capital city of Tehran, a burgeoning city of nine million that some days suffers from thick air pollution that obscures the spectacular snow-capped Elburz Mountains to the north.
In 2004, Zind and his brother found everyone they met in Iran to be friendly and eager to socialize with a couple of Americans. It has been the same on subsequent visits.
"Everywhere we went, Iranians were very hospitable, offering us tea, lunch, and wanting to show us around," said Zind, who indicates that Americans are much sought after for conversation. Yet Zind and his brother entertained second thoughts about their trip when faced with a culture so foreign. Much of that awkwardness and unease has left Zind in his subsequent visits as he has learned to better interpret social cues and customs of Iranian society.
Zind's skills with Pharsi, the common language in Iran, have steadily improved, and now he says he can converse at the level of the average 3-year-old Iranian, but can't keep up with a 5-year-old.
Visiting Iran in part as a professional journalist on the last three visits, Zind has had an interpreter assigned to him by the Iranian government. Zind said the interpreter also serves as his government minder, and he is careful not to publicly broach highly sensitive subjects and jeopardize future visits. Off limits are topics such as the jailing and torture of dissidents. Zind has still gone out of his way to interview dissident clerics and those involved in Iran's growing women's movement. Zind even managed an interview with Iranian Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi, who fights for women's rights in Iran despite frequent harassment by hardliners.
Although women in Iran can vote, run for office, and pursue professional careers, they are subject to social restrictions and lack many of the legal rights that men enjoy. They must cover their hair and the shape of their body in public. In private, they have no such restrictions, said Zind, and in some venues, like movie theaters, Iranian women skirt the line, pulling back head scarves partway to reveal faces skillfully and artfully enhanced with modern cosmetic products.
"Iran is not what many Americans picture from what they remember from images of the Islamic Revolution," said Zind. "It's not a dark and scary place."
Zind said the initial days of the Revolution in 1979 were followed by violent power struggles in which there were many executions. Also, the decade-long fight with Iraq caused great carnage and stress. Iraqi missiles fell on Tehran, and teenagers and old men threw themselves at Iraqi tanks. Yet Iran's gentler, more contemplative character comes through in many ways, said Zind, including the countries many beautiful, peaceful city parks where families gather in the shade, and in its love of poetry and music.
Today, Iran is a much calmer place than in the days of the Islamic Revolution, said Zind, and the greatest threat perceived by Iranians seems to be lack of economic opportunity for Iran's well-educated population, which is very young — a majority of the population is under the age of 30.
Iran's international isolation is keenly felt by its citizens, especially by the young, said Zind. The isolation comes from many sources, including the government's disdain of Western culture, U.S. embargoes following the hostage-taking, and the current belief of many Western powers that Iran may be pursuing a nuclear weapons program. The isolation leaves Iranians without access to foreign investment. And, finally, Zind said Iran suffers a huge "brain drain" of its best-educated, who leave the country in order to realize their potential.
"Iranians have a lot of national pride," said Zind. "The country has a 2,500 year history…yet they see themselves as often treated as inferior by the West and they are aware of their limits under the current regime."
Finally, Zind said Iranians' pride, combined with a bit of a chip on their shoulders, mixed with their common lack of optimism, leaves him with an uneasy feeling about Iran's future. But, Zind is also left feeling fortunate that he seems to have an occasional entrée to observe Iran from the inside, and to nurture the newfound Iranian inside himself.
Stefan Hard is a staff writer, photographer who can be reached at stefan.hard@timesargus.com
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