Homa is the given name of my friend Dorothy, who is Iranian, Canadian and American. She showed me her new Iranian passport today, featuring a picture of her in a traditional Islamic headcovering called a hijaab (it is "the Islamic republic of Iran" after all). The look is carefully considered, and based on the country's requirements for this sort of documentation. She is not smiling in this picture, which is apparently a rule now for American passports as well as Iranian. And she is not wearing makeup, which is not a rule for American passports.
It's funny how the Dorothy of her current passport looks so little like the stylish Dorothy I sit next to every day and looks so much like the dour little hijaab-clad girl of the early '80s. Dorothy is a hilarious, brilliant and sweet individual, but damn can she carry off intensity in a way that completely overshadows her warm heart. You gotta earn the smiles and fear the wrath. I tell you, if we start something with a nation of Dorothys, we're in trouble.
Part of me is worried that she wants to go home to a place that isn't known for being welcoming to people who challenge the status quo. And I don't worry that they'd kick her out -- I worry that they'd make her stay. And then who would continue my lessons in Middle East history, Persian culture and international politics?
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