Land of a thousand and one courtesies - Iran - The Art of Hospitality
Yann RichardAn Islamic tradition handed down by the Persian poets tells how Abraham, not wishing to eat alone, once sought to share his meal with an old man he met in the desert. When the time came to pray, he realized that his guest was a Zoroastrian and wanted to send him away. But an angel restrained Abraham, saying, "God has fed this man for a hundred years, how could you refuse him a meal?"
Strangers are invariably surprised by the ceremonial that unfolds before them on a visit to an Iranian household. Whatever the time of day or night, whatever the reason for the visit or the social status of the visitor, a drink will be offered first of all. To enter someone's house is like coming to the end of a journey through the dust of the desert and slaking one's thirst in a garden.
Usually the tea is prepare d in the Russian manner, left to brew for a long time in a teapot standing on a samovar and served with added water in small glasses. Sugar is not added to the tea but placed on the tongue. Sweetmeats are always provided to accompany the golden liquid. Each town has its own speciality, such as tamarisk jellies, sugared almonds flavoured with the essence of Egyptian willow, assorted baklavas (nut and honey pastries) from Yazd, all kinds of biscuits, some flavoured with jasmine, others stuffed with walnuts, pistachios or almonds...
In summer, to alleviate the torrid heat of the road, cool syrups made from melon or watermelon ulce are served on arrival. The accomplished hostess can blend the colours and flavours of different fruits in the most unexpected ways.
Don't think that you can drop in on someone and then quietly slip away as soon as your business is concluded. In face of the sometimes excessively polite formulas used by the master of the house when he insists that you stay to eat (in the case of an unexpected visit it is good manners not to accept too quickly), you must decide for yourself what common courtesy requires. Even if there is little to talk about, a visit should not last less than an hour, otherwise your friends will be offended by the implication that they have failed to entertain you properly.
Conversation follows a ritual course, beginning with mutual inquiries about matters of health. At first bad news is avoided, and it is only broached after a decent interval in order to spare people's feelings. Depending on the closeness of the friendship between them, people either discuss general topics or more personal matters. What is so-and-so up to these days? When the conversation flags, such basic questions as "How are you getting on?" are used to get it started again. It would be a mistake to lose patience with these conventions, which simply exist to fill gaps in the conversation and to create a companionable atmosphere.
When your thirst has been quenched you will be brought dishes of dried fruit, cakes, fresh fruit.... It has been decided that you will stay and any pretext will be used to keep you. You can't leave without tasting our fruit! How can you refuse, faced with such a tempting array of grapes, figs, peaches and cucumbers?
Pause between mouthfuls and you will notice that the room where you are being entertained does not seem to be in regular use. It is certainly not the place where the family watches television or reads the papers. Even poor families have a place where guests can be entertained, although in modern apartments space is limited. Wealthier families used to Western-style comfort keep a guest-room furnished with armchairs and a sofa, while in more modest rural homes cushions are arranged around the central carpet. Guests who have travelled far sleep in the same room, for which carefully folded sheets, blankets and a mattress are always at hand and will be laid on the carpet for the night.
The urbanization of the last thirty years, the wear and tear of city life, cramped apartments... all these factors make it increasingly difficult to offer hospitality. Moreover, travelling has become commonplace and the arrival of a relative from the airport after a flight lasting an hour or two bears little resemblance to that of the exhausted dust-caked traveller of not so very long ago, who had suffered extremes of heat and cold and had not slept for several nights. Such hardships are only a memory today, when proliferating hotels and restaurants cater for the growing number of people who wish to travel anonymously, without imposing on the hospitality of a relative or friend and incidentally sparing themselves the duty to reciprocate.
Most large family get-togethers, which are less common today than they used to be, tend to take place during the major festivals of the religious or civic calendar. On these occasions succulent dishes are laid out on cloths spread over the carpet, and twenty or thirty people gather to eat. But in contrast to the welcome ceremonies described above, people talk as little as possible during these meals, and eat hurriedly, which is a pity since people would often be happy to take a second helping and savour the meal at their leisure.
Enormous quantities of food are prepared for these family reunions, and if supplies were to run Out, the master of the house would give the shameful impression that he is ungenerous. When you have finished, don't forget to say that you are full. Extra guests commonly turn up at the last minute, when someone brings along an unexpected visitor, a relative or a friend. There are never any seating problems as everyone squeezes up around the cloth, and if the meal is served on a table it is often in the form of a buffet since there are rarely enough chairs to go round.
Once the meal is over, more tea is served and the ceremony quickly comes to an end. The master of the house will beg you to excuse the frugality of his hospitality and the poor quality of his food, but of course you will protest by insisting that your hosts have done everything they could, that is to say a great deal, and that you are very grateful to them.
Although the master and mistress of the house always stay in the background, try to satisfy your every need and give you the place of honour, do not think that a guest's role is simply to relax. First of all you must humbly accept the honours bestowed on you, respond to the polite remarks addressed to you, and help yourself to the dishes offered to you even if you don't want them. All these signs of good manners will show the host that his attempts at hospitality have not been in vain. The guest loses his independence and becomes, as a Persian saying ironically puts it, "the master's donkey" ! The guest's paramount duty, however, is to return the courtesy. At New Year (Now Rouz) a return visit is practically taken for granted, as anyone who has received guests has been placed under an obligation to them. It may seem surprising that people you have just entertained in your home insist on receiving you the following day, but to refuse would be embarrassing as it would put them at a disadvantage and leave them in your debt. The uninitiated who accept the lavish hospitality of Iranians often forget this duty to reciprocate and earn themselves a black mark socially. One way to make up for not being able to return the invitation is to bring a present.
But compensation for generosity may come much later. Someone from the provinces living in Tehran or another big city will feel particularly honoured to receive people from his village, even if they stay for several days. Such a visit is a tribute to his social success and raises his standing in the neighbourhood. Guests of this kind are therefore a blessing, because although they may cost their host something in food and effort, their visit enhances his prestige.
One benefit of hospitality, and not the least, is that it puts paid to disagreement and conflict. While "bread and salt" are being shared there is no question of perpetuating grievances or of picking quarrels. A tacit truce by both parties, host and guest, creates a feeling of solidarity that nothing can destroy. The same principle, when institutionalized, guarantees the traditional right of asylum in places held to be sacred: mosques, the homes of great ulemas (religious leaders), the stables or kitchens of the shah or, more recently, embassies and consulates.
When the time has come to take your leave, the host will see you out. This is another way of placing you under an obligation. Among the formalities of leave-taking, you will often hear the same words you heard when you arrived. No irony is intended: this is not a polite way of showing you the door but a way of assuring you in all sincerity that the visit has been beneficial for the household and that you will always be just as welcome in the future.
COPYRIGHT 1990 UNESCO
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group