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A Single Fig
Carol Roach
She sat beside me on the first day of French Class; she smiled though she
did not talk very much. Like me she was older than most of the students. I
wasn’t sure of her age, I knew she was a bit younger than me, yet I could
still see the quiet wisdom in her eyes. As with some many other new landed
immigrants in Canada, I felt that perhaps she was just shy, feeling
bewildered in her new country; so far away from home.
Mina did not talk very much but did ask a lot of questions and it quickly
became apparent that she was a hardworking student. During the class
introductions I learned that she was married with no other family here
except for her husband and mother-in-law. She left behind her own precious
family in Iran to come to Canada; her brave new world. I marveled at the
way immigrants could leave their birthplace and voyage sometimes from the
other side of the world to a new country, culture and way of life. I know
that I could never do it, but then I never had to.
As the term progressed, I learned that Mina was anything but shy; her
lack of conversation was due to the fact that she believed she could not
speak French very well and was very self conscious when she spoke. She
looked at me as an example of how well she should be speaking. I had to
point out to her, I lived in Quebec all of my life. I am a native English
Montrealer who has a French family. My mom and sisters speak French. It
was not nearly as hard for me to learn French as it must be for a person who
spoke a language that did not even use the same alphabet. Iranians speak
Farsi, a Persian language that is not Arabic but can sound like it to an
untrained ear.
Even with the language barrier much to the delight of the class, we found
Mina to be very charming, caring, and a natural born comedian. Her jokes
about her mother-in-law, whom she does not get along with, amused us. Most
of the class did not realize that this lady hid her pain very well. She
longed to feel a part of her husband’s family; she needed family in this
strange new world. It was the mother-in-law who would not accept her. Mina
could not understand it. She told me how her own family embraced her
husband with open arms, and she was brought up to believe that all families
did the same.
I asked her why she had chosen to leave Iran and her beloved family
behind. Mina gave me a matter-of- fact answer. She left her homeland to
follow her husband’s dream. I still wondered why Mina did not talk much
about her family and her life in Iran. It wasn’t that Mina had problems
speaking French because by this time, three months later, Mina had improved
tremendously and she was gaining a lot of self confidence in this area.
Still, her self confidence was perhaps lacking elsewhere.
Normally, people easily open up to me and within no time I know their
life story. I soon found out that Mina, on the other hand, believed that no
one would be interested in her life. She was surprised to find out that
this Canadian woman was very interested.
One day when we were talking about the emperor Darius, the first emperor
of Iran, Mina asked me if I knew anything about the fast of Ramadan which
lasts the entire month. During the month of Ramadan, Muslims all over the
world, fast during the day time and eat only a small meal with family or
friends during the evening hours.
She went on to explain that during Ramadan, only certain people are
exempt from fasting; for medical reasons such as sickness or pregnancy. The
laws are very strict, so much so, that if you are caught in Iran eating
during the period, you are jailed.
Mina surprised me that day as she opened up to me like she never had
before. She told me about her personal experience just prior to coming to
Canada.
She was driving around getting things she needed for her departure. It
was very hot and she felt very drained and lightheaded. Of course she had
not eaten all day for she was a devout Muslim woman. However, since she
wasn’t feeling well, she was afraid of perhaps having an accident at the
wheel so she took a small fig from her glove department and ate it.
While she was eating she had noticed a car parked and a man starring at
her. She thought nothing of it at the time, yet no sooner had she eaten the
fig; she was stopped by the police who accused her of breaking the law.
Mina tried to explain that she was not feeling well and it was but a small
fig. They were very rough with her and took her down to the police station
where she was interrogated for hours and left in a jail cell over night.
Mina was terrified; she had no one there with her to defend her. She had
never felt so vulnerable in all her life. The following morning she was to
pass by the court officer to prepare for trial. She just could not fathom
that she was about to be jailed for breaking Ramadan, a very serious
offense, all because of a small indiscretion. She had eaten a fig!
Mina gathered her wits about her. She could not afford to go to jail.
She could not afford to be branded as a common criminal the rest of her
life. Her chances of immigrating to Canada destroyed right before her eyes.
Yet, no amount of crying and begging for mercy was going to help her. She
did the only thing she knew to do. She bribed the court officer. She
offered him all the money she had in her purse; three hundred dollars, to
let her go. A practice she says is done quite often in Iran; pay the court
to look the other way.
Talk to Mina anytime about Iran and her eyes light up. She loves her
country and her family back home. But behind the smile is the wisdom in her
eyes which tell a tale of injustice and despair and the longing for a
better life for her people.
Mina came to Canada to make a new life for herself in the land of the
just and the free. While I am so thankful that freedom and justice is all
that I have ever known.
Carol Roach
winterose@videotron.ca
A Native of Montreal,
Quebec, Carol is a graduate of Concordia, and McGill University. She holds
a bachelor in psychology and a Masters in counselling psychology. Carol
Roach is a published writer and newsletter editor. You can purchase her
book: Picking up the Pieces: A Woman's Journey at
www.publishamerica.com, or
www.amazon.com. You can also go to
your local bookstore and order it there as well. Be sure to quote the isbn
number: 1-4137-1921-X for local purchases: Carol’s second book: Angels
Watching Over is currently looking for a home. Stay tuned for details.
If you are interested in
other stories feel free to join her newsletter: Storytime Tapestry at:
http://subs.zinester.com/98907 , or
email her directly at
winterose@videotron.ca and she will
be glad to accommodate you. Carol enjoys email and responds to every
inquiry.
Carol
Roach, M.Ed, B.A
winterose@videotron.ca
Publisher: Storytime Tapestry
http://subs.zinester.com/98907
Author: Picking up the Pieces: A Woman's Journey
www.publishamerica.com,
www.amazon.com other online bookstores or you can order it at your local
bookstore
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