Marking Persian New Year With Food, Family, Dance

Like many cultures the world over, Iranians believe that 13 is an unlucky number. But rather than avoid the cursed double digit, they actively banish it with an outdoor feast.

Sunday, celebrating the Persian New Year’s last day--called Sizdeh-Bedar, or “Thirteenth Day, Demons Away”--upward of 30,000 Iranians and Iranian Americans ate, danced and visited on the sun-splashed lawns of William R. Mason Regional Park.

“You leave the house, go outside, and take the bad luck with you,” said Mashti Malone of Woodland Hills. “You start the new year fresh.”

Billed as the largest Persian New Year’s celebration in North America, and possibly in the world since a fundamentalist Muslim government has tried to stamp it out in Iran, the holiday was celebrated in style. Thousands of extended families spread their colorful Persian rugs, blankets and tents. There was food, dance, and for some, a bit more.

“You get a lot of money!” said Neda Novin, 10, of Mission Viejo.

All children are given cash gifts by indulgent older relatives during New Year’s festivities. They can net $100 to $200.

Sunday’s was an event that spanned the ages, from the performance of a 5,000-year-old traditional warrior dance to a biplane touting “Iran.Online.com”.

The elders of one family--patriarch Hasdan Motamedi-rad, 92, and his wife Robabeh Javaheri, 87, of Downey--sat beaming under a shady tree, surrounded by a score of younger relatives.

“What we do is eat and eat and eat,” said Benzi Craig, 37, a grand-niece of the couple who traveled from Texas with her two young daughters for a family wedding and for the traditional new year. As she spoke, her sister dished out heaping plates of spiced rice and green beans, yogurt and salad. Traditional drums and tambourines sat waiting for the midday meal to conclude.

“I like this holiday, it keeps our culture alive,” said Craig’s nephew, Peter Etesamria, 13, of Downey.

At vendor stands, everything from rose water ice cream to fresh green almonds were on sale.

“Salam, Nao Roos!” customers and sellers greeted one another. “Hello, Happy New Day.”

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Nao Roos, or New Day, begins at the exact moment of the vernal equinox, according to legend. It was started 5,000 years ago by Jamshid, one of the mythical leaders of the Zoroastrians, ancestors of modern-day Iranians, according to historian Ali Jafery, 77, of Buena Park. The equinox, also the first day of spring, signifies the return of life in nature.

Since the equinox began on March 21, the 13th day was actually last Wednesday. But because so many people work during the week, the Sizdeh-Bedar celebration was moved to Sunday, organizers said.

“Anybody of any religion can celebrate. This is more of a national holiday, like the American Thanksgiving,” said Jafery.

Spring cleaning is conducted for a month before the holiday. At the exact moment it begins--this year, at 5:45 a.m. on the day of the equinox--children are awakened. A traditional table is set with “the seven Ss”--words that begin with S in Farsi--including apples, gold coins, garlic, vinegar, pudding or Persian spice, hyacinths and wheat. For 12 days, families visit everyone they know. On the last day, the outdoor feast is held.

Single women “may on this day only knot a piece of grass, and wish to be married and have a child in the next year,” said Sudi Shoja, a civil engineer for Santa Ana who conducts charitable activities for the Network of Iranian Professionals of Orange County.

“Attendance is a little below last year [when an estimated 37,000 people attended], but it’s going up every minute,” said park attendant Amy Litten at 1 p.m.

Many celebrating on Sunday had left Iran to gain a college education, or to escape a change of government in the 1970s, when Islamic leaders overthrew the Shah.

Hamed Khazeei, 21, from Long Beach, fled Tehran by donkey four years ago because he was about to be forced into the military, and because he is a Bahai, banned in Iran now.

“It was so hard, I cannot explain it in words,” he said of his escape. Now he works three jobs, two at Baskin-Robbins ice cream outlets and a third for a traditional Persian candy distributor. Like many others, he aspires to be a doctor or dentist.

“You put the bad things aside today, and think of new wishes, dreams and hopes,” said Simin Javanfar, 56, whose daughter Susan Javanfar, 19, translated for her. Her daughter had a wish too.

“My New Year’s resolution? Not to eat as much candy!” she said, laughing.