A TIMELY WORD FROM BABA’S BABY BROTHER, Our Uncle Said

A warm welcome to the blog of Leslie Powell Ahmadi: a Black American Christian woman who met and married a man from Iran who was raised in a Muslim family.

I met Mahmoud at The Ohio State University, married him in 1988, and four years later relocated to Iran to start a new life with him. It was not an easy decision. But ultimately Mahmoud, our two young children, and I lived in the spectacular historic city of Isfahan from 1992 – 1996. And a lot happened during those four years. It’s all captured in the soon-to-be released book I’ve written called The Road Between Hearts: A Memoir of a Black American Woman Discovering Iran.

The book chronicles my intercultural, interracial, and interfaith journey in post-revolutionary Iran among a body of compassionate, sometimes quirky, always memorable characters—including the myriad members of Mahmoud’s family. His “Uncle Said” (see below) is one of them!

Our Uncle SAID (pronounced “SaEED”)

Handsome, robust, and with the hint of a Scottish brogue to his resonant voice whether speaking English or Persian, Baba's baby brother (as well as my husband Mahmoud’s uncle) is one of the patriarchs of the Ahmadi family line. Even more important to Mahmoud and me, Uncle Said was the first in the family to marry outside of his country and culture (with the now late Maureen Andrews from Scotland)—helping to pave the way for Mahmoud and me to be likewise accepted. At least, that's what we hoped! Lucky for us, his candid disposition and deep-barreled tones had a powerful sway on all of us; it was nearly impossible not to hear and regard what he had to say.

Like the day that twenty or so of us were seated around Baba and Maman's table at the village, enjoying another midday meal. The delicious aroma of savory stew and saffron rice enticed my nostrils and filled up the room. And right beside me, above the sound of clanking spoons and forks, I could hear Uncle Said speak my name.

Giving his voice my full attention, I turned my ear toward him and listened:

"Leslie," he said again in that Scottish brogue, "if there's anything I've learned at times like these ..."

I waited, eager and curious. These were the moments that memoirs were made of!

"If there's anything I've learned at times like these ... it's that you'd better eat quickly, or you might not get enough!"

Hmm. I hadn't quite expected this; I thought I’d hear something more along the lines of “We should never take a great meal for granted,” or “Food in good company feeds the body and the soul.” So, I came close to laughing out loud in response to his wise crack (err, “wise remark”?)—except that I detected no smile on his face--only a glimmer in his eye that I couldn't quite read. Better play it safe in responding.

So I nodded my head in grateful acknowledgment, picked up my fork and spoon, and eagerly started digging in.

So glad I did! As usual, the food was a symphony of flavors exploding in my mouth. But it would be a while before I'd crack the communication code of our dearly beloved, but ever inspiring, Uncle Said!
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I hope you'll allow me to introduce even more members of the Ahmadi clan as revealed in The Road Between Hearts. And not only family members, but members of the entire university community where Mahmoud and I worked, and whose students, staff, faculty members, and surrounding neighbors often kept us guessing—almost as often as we did them! 

Please stand by for next month’s blogpost for a final update re: the book’s release! Even better—if you haven’t done so already, I invite you to sign up on my homepage for my monthly newsletter for related updates and free downloads!