I Hear You Knocking...

...but you can't come in. 

Knock, knock

Who's there?

Farsi

Farsi, who?

Farsi, you can't speak Farsi.

Awhile back one morning, while my husband was away at his school, there was a knock on the door. I did what I’ve always done in America, which is tell my kids to be quiet so we can pretend not to be home in hopes that the person(s) will go away. But the knocking kept on, so we got a bit tense. The knocking became louder, and we heard voices as well. 

That’s when we got nervous. I knew I was not going to open that door, but if it had been in America, I would at least been able to say “Hello, who is it? What do you want?” But of course, I didn’t know how to say that in Farsi. So I tiptoed towards it to look out the peephole. I saw two men casually standing and talking to each other. There were a few more knocks while I called my husband to ask him what to do. He told me to ignore it and not say anything, that maybe it was the manager’s son who had told him he’d stop by later that evening. There were another few knocks, but then the men had left. 

I began to look up Farsi words and write them down on paper so I’d have something to say (even though pronouncing it wrong) if and when another knock came.

I knew how to say Hello (Salam)

I knew how to say I don’t speak Farsi (Nah Farsi)

I looked up the words, husband (Hamsar) and home (Khane) so I could say No husband home in Farsi.

And my husband had told me how to say American (America-ee).

I also looked up What’s Your Name (Esm e Shoma Chist)?

And Where are You From? (Shoma Ahleh Koja Hastid)

Sure enough, a few hours later, there was another set of loud knocks. 

I looked out the peep hole and it was a man, though I couldn't tell if it was one of the same men as before. So through the door, I began to say something:

"Salam," I said.

"Salam," he said.

"Na Farsi"

"Something something something Farsi"?

"Uh, uh…Khane uh…Jonathan Ali, Jonathan Ali (my husband’s name)"

"Something something something"

"Uh, uh, Americanee Americanee (I incorrectly added the N sound there)"

"Nahh something something"….

He left.

Success.

I told my husband on text about it. He said that his teacher said that it was most likely census takers. After that, my husband came home and spoke with the manager who said it was probably just people at the wrong door. Nevertheless, we taped a sign on the front door that has my husband’s name and phone number on it in case someone else arrives knocking on our door again.

So far, it’s been fine with no more persistent knocks.

I realized that some folks just press the wrong bell button at the gate trying to get into the complex. I also realized we have this nifty video monitor that turns on when someone rings our bell so we can see who it is.

The other day another bell rang while my husband was out. Looking at the video monitor, it seemed to be an official man such as a police officer. I waited to see if he would somehow get in through the gate and then come up to knock on our door. After a couple of bells, he left the visual on the video and we waited. Minutes passed and there was no knock, so either he was here for someone else or saw the sign on our door and left.

Then I got to thinking about what we would do if that actually was a  police officer who needed to contact us with GOD FORBID, bad news about my husband being in accident or what not. So I told my husband to give my cell phone number to a couple of his friends who speak both Farsi and English and keep the name of those friends in his wallet as Emergency contacts.

Not knowing the language is a vulnerable position to be in. I know I need to try to learn at least some important phrases.

So I tried to memorize the Farsi alphabet. I kid you not when I say (and already said here), remembering things like this, letters, numbers, new words is harder for me than it is for others. I’m not sure why though! Not only that but I have a huge anxiety about taking a class to learn it, having to perform in front of teachers or classmates.  My husband is in his umpteenth week of intense 5 hour a day Farsi classes. When he tells me about his tests both written and oral, I get so uncomfortable thinking about it. But it does not bother him one teeny bit (other than hoping he gets 100% correct, which he mostly does, mashaaAllah).

Let’s hope I can learn eventually because then living here will be a lot easier and pleasant. Right now, my youngest daughter is afraid to go out for a walk with me for fear that I just don’t know what to say to others. This makes me sad of course, so let’s see if I can increase her confidence in me. I hope, I pray.

Until then, I'll stick to my favorite phrase Na, Farsi. Oh, and by the way, my kids have learned a Farsi sentence: Een Cheez Ajeebe, which means, "This thing is strange." So, of course, they can say that about a lot of things here. Also, this sentence is very similar to the same words used in Urdu, which is the language of my Pakistani parents. I can speak and understand several words and sentences in Urdu, so that's something, ain't it?