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Irooni-baazi
For all of you Iroonis, the word 'Irooni-baazi' should sound familiar. This term has come to encompass a wide gamut of Persian tendencies that take place in day-to-day activities, typically negative in nature.
Literally translated "Irooni-baazi" means "Iranian games"; however, its connotation implies a degree of dishonesty, exaggeration, and deception leveraged for one's benefit, whether to give the impression of status/class/wealth or to conjure pity. It is essentially the belief that through calculated and harmless deceit, favorable results may be realized. Most of us have been subjected to random episodes of such behavior, although it seems that recently I have had more than the recommended healthy allowance.
Let's backtrack to Sunday afternoon -- a seemingly typical day in Georgetown. I make a stop at Zara and as I wait in the queue for the fitting room, my ear detects presence of a Persian accent, reminiscent of relatives who've been in America for 20 years but still put "E" before "S" when followed by a consonant (ess-tore, ess-kool, ess-top) or who refuse to acknowledge "W" as an actual letter in the English language, opting rather for "V" (vaat do you vaant).
My attention diverges from the excruciatingly slow paced queue to the conversation at hand. I turn my head discretely so to not declare my Iranian-ness or sudden interest. I observe 2 Irooni men and one black girl. The men, in their mid-twenties, humor the girl who describes her close Persian girlfriend as "fly". Unable to comprehend this adjective, the girl proceeds to provide synonyms in the form of "dope, kickin', and sick", none of which seemed to convey the message.
After several unsuccessful attempts the word "hot" does the job and the men begin to bombard her with questions: "vaat does she luk like? Vaat does she do? Vaay you don't bering her out?"The girl finally makes her way to a fitting room as the men stand outside and discuss important issues such as "dokhtar-baazi" and "mast-kardan" (s***t chasing and getting wasted).
Several minutes go by, the men in deep conversation, when the girl emerges from the fitting room wearing nothing more than a scantily clad bandana over her breasts. The men stop mid-sentence as though the words on their tongues dissipated into thin air and without hesitation, follow her into the women's fitting room for a closer look. Not two steps into the cordoned area, a store attendant intercepts, telling them that the area is for women only.
Enter Irooni-baazi.
The men begin to declare that they are doctors who see and touch human bodies every day. The attendant, not amused and unaffected, directs them to clear the area. The men continue boasting that as physicians (specifically in anesthesiology ... I guess name dropping also constitutes Irooni-baazi), they should be allowed to enter the fitting room, since they are clearly of a higher specimen of human being. Offended, the men bash the policy of the store, the lack of respect for doctors, and the ridiculousness of the entire situation (maskhareh-baazi).
Yet another encounter with Irooni-baazi took place just a couple months ago when I attended a 'mehmooni' at my uncle's house. My mom introduced me to a woman whose daughter was similar in age and was pursuing a degree in my major. As the woman and I engaged in conversation, I could feel the mounting tension of Irooni-baazi. I asked her where her daughter attends school -- by all accounts a simple question, requiring a simple response.
This is was the reply: "She goes to george mason university. They say it is number von eskool. She vas aksepted to deh UVA but just she vanted to be keloser to her family and it vas better eskool for biziness."
Does she SERIOUSLY think that I'm going to buy that load of crap?? UVA has been consistently ranked in the top echelon of public universities in the world, and yet her daughter chose to go to Mason ... a commuter school? The best part of this whole thing is that the lady was truly convinced of the story she was telling me. I literally had to compose myself and walk away from the conversation. My quick tongue could have done some major damage.
It's fun to observe Iroonis in action ... always entertaining, sometimes humiliating, never disappointing. I'm sure most of you can identify ... !
Literally translated "Irooni-baazi" means "Iranian games"; however, its connotation implies a degree of dishonesty, exaggeration, and deception leveraged for one's benefit, whether to give the impression of status/class/wealth or to conjure pity. It is essentially the belief that through calculated and harmless deceit, favorable results may be realized. Most of us have been subjected to random episodes of such behavior, although it seems that recently I have had more than the recommended healthy allowance.
Let's backtrack to Sunday afternoon -- a seemingly typical day in Georgetown. I make a stop at Zara and as I wait in the queue for the fitting room, my ear detects presence of a Persian accent, reminiscent of relatives who've been in America for 20 years but still put "E" before "S" when followed by a consonant (ess-tore, ess-kool, ess-top) or who refuse to acknowledge "W" as an actual letter in the English language, opting rather for "V" (vaat do you vaant).
My attention diverges from the excruciatingly slow paced queue to the conversation at hand. I turn my head discretely so to not declare my Iranian-ness or sudden interest. I observe 2 Irooni men and one black girl. The men, in their mid-twenties, humor the girl who describes her close Persian girlfriend as "fly". Unable to comprehend this adjective, the girl proceeds to provide synonyms in the form of "dope, kickin', and sick", none of which seemed to convey the message.
After several unsuccessful attempts the word "hot" does the job and the men begin to bombard her with questions: "vaat does she luk like? Vaat does she do? Vaay you don't bering her out?"The girl finally makes her way to a fitting room as the men stand outside and discuss important issues such as "dokhtar-baazi" and "mast-kardan" (s***t chasing and getting wasted).
Several minutes go by, the men in deep conversation, when the girl emerges from the fitting room wearing nothing more than a scantily clad bandana over her breasts. The men stop mid-sentence as though the words on their tongues dissipated into thin air and without hesitation, follow her into the women's fitting room for a closer look. Not two steps into the cordoned area, a store attendant intercepts, telling them that the area is for women only.
Enter Irooni-baazi.
The men begin to declare that they are doctors who see and touch human bodies every day. The attendant, not amused and unaffected, directs them to clear the area. The men continue boasting that as physicians (specifically in anesthesiology ... I guess name dropping also constitutes Irooni-baazi), they should be allowed to enter the fitting room, since they are clearly of a higher specimen of human being. Offended, the men bash the policy of the store, the lack of respect for doctors, and the ridiculousness of the entire situation (maskhareh-baazi).
Yet another encounter with Irooni-baazi took place just a couple months ago when I attended a 'mehmooni' at my uncle's house. My mom introduced me to a woman whose daughter was similar in age and was pursuing a degree in my major. As the woman and I engaged in conversation, I could feel the mounting tension of Irooni-baazi. I asked her where her daughter attends school -- by all accounts a simple question, requiring a simple response.
This is was the reply: "She goes to george mason university. They say it is number von eskool. She vas aksepted to deh UVA but just she vanted to be keloser to her family and it vas better eskool for biziness."
Does she SERIOUSLY think that I'm going to buy that load of crap?? UVA has been consistently ranked in the top echelon of public universities in the world, and yet her daughter chose to go to Mason ... a commuter school? The best part of this whole thing is that the lady was truly convinced of the story she was telling me. I literally had to compose myself and walk away from the conversation. My quick tongue could have done some major damage.
It's fun to observe Iroonis in action ... always entertaining, sometimes humiliating, never disappointing. I'm sure most of you can identify ... !
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