by Debra Rubin
Editor
She was 35, married for 15 years and had two children when she suffered what she called a "mini mid-life crisis."
That led Angella Nazarian, now in her early 40s, to chronicle ‹ in poetry and prose with art ‹ her life and travels to some 60 countries, from her young childhood in Iran to her adolescence and adulthood in Los Angeles in the book, Life as a Visitor (Assouline), published in the fall. She wrote her memoir, she says in the prologue, "to explore the vanishing details of my past and my changing identity in the context of my travel experiences."
Addressing some 70 women last week at a Jewish Federation of Greater Washington Women's Philanthropy event, hosted by Wendi Abramowitz in her Potomac home, Nazarian spoke of her native Iran and the challenges of being caught between East and West.
"In Iran, I was a minority because I was Jewish; in Los Angeles, I was a minority because I was Iranian," said Nazarian, who joined her brothers in the Los Angeles area during the 1979 Iranian revolution.
She was 11, and it would be another 5 1/2 years before her parents ‹ who had stayed behind to liquidate their assets and then were trapped in the country during the Iranian-Iraq war ‹ would make it to California, thanks, in part, she said, to the assistance of Los Angeles' Jewish federation.
Nazarian's remarks last week skipped back and forth, as she spoke of personal experiences; the Jewish community's long history in Iran ‹ sometime flourishing, but often in hiding ‹ dating back 2,500 years; life in Iran during her childhood; the influence of her paternal grandmother, who had died before Nazarian was born; and Jewish life in Iran today.
She believes Jews in Iran are more religious than they were during her childhood, but also said they're less open about their Judaism. Many of those remaining in that Persian nation ‹ 20,000-25,000 ‹ feel economically tied to the country, she said. Her aunt, for instance, was a veterinarian and would lose her pension if she were to emigrate.
Noting that Iranian Jews have long found kinship and pride in the Purim story, with its Persian Jewish queen, Nazarian said, "I pick being a JAP over being an Iranian princess. [Esther's] a princess, but she doesn't tell the king she's Jewish. Even if you're a princess and you have to hide, how much power do you have?"
Yet, Nazarian herself admitted to hiding once, as she read from her book a poem about one taxi ride in Turkey, accompanied by her two young sons.
Rather than telling the driver she was American, she told him she was Iranian, and he launched into a tirade about how Iran would teach those "pork-eating, Jew-loving Americans" a lesson. She sat quietly, thinking that if she spoke up, he could easily drive her and her children off the side of the road on a suicide mission.
That time, hiding seemed the safest course, but earlier in her talk, Azarian had pointed out that she spent much of her "young adulthood trying to figure out who I am. I'm not really American. I'm not really Iranian Š but I've always been Jewish."
She takes comfort in that, remarking that, "Wherever we go there is a community waiting for us, that embraces us."
Noting that many of the speaking engagements on her book tour have been to Jewish audiences, she quipped, "My PR guy said, 'My next author has to be Jewish.' "