After a whole year, I’m back in Iran.
The trip here was hard, not because of the two flights or even the 4 hour layover in Frankfurt (it was easy peesy compared to a LA-Tehran trip), but because every second that passed, I was further and further away from Italy, from Onelise and Mario, from my semester abroad. By the time I landed I was such in a terrible mood it was almost embarrassing. It’s just weird coming to Iran to say hi to everyone after having just said a really harsh goodbye to Italy.
But by the time I got to my grandparents front door, waiting for my grandma to open the door, I didn’t regret my decision to stop in Iran on the way back in the least. No matter how much time has passed, how much older we get, Tehran is home. I’d never realized it so much as last night when i walked into my grandparents home and sighed a sigh of “man, I’m finally home”, and when today our family friends (3 in a row) welcomed me “back home”. No, I’m positive I’ll never live here fulltime (or even be able to stay her for longer than say 3 months). My cousins are are all busy now, and winters suck because they have school and work and all that nonsense. But it’s good to be back regardless.
My farsi is sucking after a semester of only english and italian, but oh well?
Otherwise, let the family madness begin!
Oh! and tea! lots and lots of persian TEA :)