Archive | December 2008

The Tale of a Keseh, Sefidab, and my Face

My stay in Isfahan (last week) was exactly what I wanted it to be: To reconnect my inner being with the mystic souls of my yester-years. I am not sure if the correct word to use here is ‘reconnect’? Did I ever float comfortably with these serene souls?

Anyhoo, I’ll tell the story of how I rekindled my soul in a later post—but what I wanna tell you now is WHY THE #$%^ MY FACE BURNS LIKE HELL

So, one early afternoon I was lingering in the labyrinth of Shah/Imam square’s bazaar. I chatted for a while with a lady working on a miniature-design clock

Isfahany Minaturist Artist working on a clock

Isfahany Miniaturist Artist working on a clock

And a grumpy copper-smith

Isfahany copper-smith

Isfahany copper-smith

Then I spotted a lively, beautifully aged woman sitting on the stone benches of the main entrance to the bazaar.

Copper Bazaar

Copper Bazaar

I overheard her talking to another old man. She had a Yazdy accent; my dad’s city. She noticed me–well I was kind of hard to miss. I was just standing there for a good 5 minutes starring at the pattern of the engravings on the old door to the bazaar

“Are you a school girl?”

Now at my age, that is always a delight to hear,

“Nope, I passed that stage long time back.”

“You are a photographer?” pointing to the camera hung around my neck.

“Hmmm, not a photographer; just like to capture the beauty of it. What’s that?”

Now I knew perfectly well what she was selling. I know it sounds absurd, but she kind of reminded me of a similar old woman sitting on these very cold stones 20 years ago when I first visited Isfahan who was also selling loofahs. Could she be the very one?

“These? These are keesehs (special kind of loofahs). You come from abroad, right? Here on vacation?”

I smile and just nod my head.

“Well my dear, we call these loofahs.”

That’s so sweet, she is explaining to me what a loofah is. Don’t know why she suddenly felt like the grandmother I never knew.

“And what are these?” I asked pointing to the Sefidab (traditional Iranian soap)

Keeseh and Sefidab

Keeseh and Sefidab

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Now before you start rolling your eyes, yes, I do know what sefidab is…though I myself have never used them before. But her eyes, tone of voice, smile, all signaled to me that she wants to talk about keeseh and sefidab. So I asked:

“What do I do with this?”

Ever so delicately,s he took out one sefidab and then looked up at me,

“See this is a keeseh. You take this and you rub two strokes on the keeseh, then you take the keeseh and scrub your skin with it. Oooooooh, your skin would become sooooooo clean, your face would glow with redness, your cheeks would become so red, just like a baby, oooh you would be so so so so glowing. So much dirt would come off your skin that you would be actually able to see them on the keeseh!!”

“So would I have to use water?”

Need I remind you guys not to roll your eyes!! But I think I did shock her with that question. She paused for a while and then said:

“Yes, my daughter, there’s water in the bathroom. You should take a bath with water.”

Ok, fine I deserved that. But would you believe she wasn’t sarcastic when she said that. She genuinely wanted to teach me.

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Now since I really wanted to rekindle with my lost tradition, and was looking forward to having my cheeks become baby-like, I got a bag of sefiab, the keeseh loofah and a face loofah.

So last week I decided to take a bath the way my ancestors did several hundred years ago.

Now when my mommy dear saw the keseh and sefidab, she warned me, “I hope you got those at an ‘Atary’ (a traditional Iranian herbal/natural medicine shop)

“Nope! I got them from an old street vendor from some remote village near Yazd. She had a cloth laid out in imam square in Isfahan, a very charming woman.”

“I wouldn’t use it if I were you; most likely it isn’t very ….”

I didn’t hear the end of that sentence for by then I was already rubbing that Sefidab on the keseh.

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1 hour later—my skin did turn red, yeaaaah it was working

3 hours later–skin still red, way too red

5 hours later—skin unnaturally way too red

The next day at work—colleagues point, gasp and awe at the redness of my cheeks when they passed by. Some even seemed scared

2 days later—skin less red now but very dry

2.5 days later—skin so dry brother is thinking of using it as sandpaper for his project

4 days later—all is back to normal

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PS. Ok, so apparently the culprit over here was not the poor sefidab, the keeseh, or that wonderful lady, the problem was….ehhmm…it was…moi ..i used the body keseh on my face coz I figured hey why not up the dosage a bit 🙂 So I scrubbed, scrubbed like lady Macbeth scrubbing the blood off her hands—except she wanted to rub the red off, I got it on 🙂

Happy Shab-e Yalda (Yalda Night) aka Happy Watermelon eating Day

Can’t believe a whole year has passed since last year’s Yalda Night

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This year I have decided to start a new tradition in our household…ice-cream with pomegranate seeds sprinkle on top…and then another ice-cream with crushed nuts…though I am not too sure about trying watermelon with ice-cream :O

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Happy watermelon, pomegranate and nuts eating day my fellow Yalda Night celebrators 😀

Enjoy this video with Mahasti singing…ehhh don’t know the name of the song but the vid has to do with Yalda Night 😀

An exchange of letters

I received this letter today:

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Dear Darya,

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When we first met, you were totally a different person; your dead aurora gave away the bleakness of your smile. I saw pass that; I befriended you. I befriended you at a time when people you thought cared about you began to shed away their mask and you saw their true faces. You were drowned in your dark reality…but I accepted you and stayed with you just as you were beginning to get out of the masquerade party you had been caught up in for so long. I held your hand the times you fell; it was my shoulder you cried on when you couldn’t even find a cold cement pillar to lean on. Wasn’t I? Wasn’t I the one who introduced you to your lost world; who brought you back to childhood sentiments? No one stood by you through your soul-stirring, and at times suffocating, whirlpool of a journey but ME. And this is the thanks I get??? Now that things are going smoothly, now that the fog has cleared; you ignore me??!! When was the last time you paid me a visit, huh? This is the thanks I get??!! How dare you? How dare you forget my birthday??!!! I honestly thought you were a better person.

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No longer truly yours,
Your blog

www.mymagicaldroplets.wordpress.com

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Dear Blog,

Ouch, it seems someone is pissed off at me. And I deserve it L….eeh so happy belated birthday bloggy…

Yes you are right, we have been out of touch…well, I have been out of touch…dunno why communicating with you is so difficult now? It’s like we stopped speaking the same language…maybe its coz we have both changed. I guess we need to discover a new layer to connect with.

Thank you for your patience,

Darya