I keep hearing from otherwise intelligent people that Middle-Eastern women are oppressed, dull and submissive. Whoever professes that belief obviously never met me. My name is Leila Alkhani, and I'm a gal with a story to share with you today. I was born in the City of Darab, southern Iran, and raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec. My parents, Alexandre Alkhani and Nadiya Nasser-Alkhani left the Islamic Republic of Iran in the 1980s and lived in Berkshire, England, before finally moving to Quebec.
After the Islamist regime took over Iran, following the fall of the Shah, the situation became impossible for Iranian Christians. You've got to understand that in the Middle East, there are millions of Christians, it's not just the Arab/Muslim world and the State of Israel. In Lebanon, Syria, Egypt and Iran, you'll find some of the oldest of Christian sects. My parents and I are proud members of the Assyrian Evangelical Church.
As proudly Canadian as anyone, I am nevertheless the daughter of two worlds. Of Canada, whose history is an open book, and of Iran, a land whose history is shrouded in mystery, a place of great beauty, power and danger. I graduated from the University of Montreal with a bachelor's degree in political science. Like a lot of recent graduates, I looked for work in my field of study and couldn't find any.
How I ended up working as a saleswoman in the TELUS Tower is simply beyond me. Don't get me wrong, in this crappy economy, I'm glad to even have a job. Got bills to pay, you know? I'm making seventeen dollars and seventy five cents an hour, and it's an alright job. It's good to be a team manager, but I didn't spend four years at university to sell cell phones. I wanted more than that out of life.
"Ma'am, the warranty on your device is expired and you'll have to buy a new phone or switch your SIM card to a new one," I said to the latest annoying customer, a plump redhead named Rosie. The angry woman looked me up and down, and I saw a hint of disappointment in her beady little blue eyes, one quickly replaced by malice.
"You people suck," Ms. Plump Redhead said, and left the store in a huff. I watched her go and shook my head, then exchanged a look of amusement with my co-worker, Jason Valbrun. Seriously, I am sick and tired of being and tired of dealing with people like this bitch Rosie. I should be working for the government, or the private sector. Not haggling over cell phones with the dregs of Montreal society.
Something about what that bitch said bothered me. What did Ms. Plump Redhead mean by "you people?" As the daughter of immigrants, and a visible minority, I cannot escape from the racism and xenophobia that's subtly hidden in Canadian society, especially here in Quebec. I'm five-foot-nine, neither chubby nor skinny, but "sturdy" as my Dad puts it. I have long black hair, light bronze skin and brown eyes.
My father is pure Iranian but my mother has some Moroccan in her ancestry, and everyone knows that there are a lot of Afro-Arabian people in Morocco. I definitely have some of that in me, I think. Given my curvy body, large breasts and big, round buttocks, it definitely wouldn't surprise me. Most Iranians look white, but I look Arab, or Hispanic, depending on who's looking. Hell, I've been mistaken for Brazilian more times than I care to admit. I am definitely a person of color, and I hate racism.
"Don't let them get to you Leila," Jason said in his deep, soothing voice. I looked at him and grinned. Standing six feet two inches tall, lean and athletic, with light brown skin, black hair and light brown eyes, Jason is definitely a beautiful young man. Clad in a red silk shirt, black tie, black silk pants and black Timberland boots, the brother is stylish, almost metrosexual, but undoubtedly masculine. He's twenty one, and studies civil engineering at Concordia University. Bright, well-spoken and unbelievably cool, Jason is my right-hand man at the office.
"I'm sick of these bozos," I said with a deep sigh, and Jason came closer. So close that I could smell the Cologne he splashed on before work this morning. Gently, he laid his hand on mine. When Jason did that, my pulse quickened, and I looked at him. The intensity I saw in his soulful brown eyes stilled my heart.
"Let's do an early lunch, on me," Jason said, flashing me that fearless smile that never failed to get to me. The two of us left the store, since it was a dull morning at our favorite mall in downtown Montreal. Katrina Chang, the new trainee, would handle the store. Not exactly a cool thing to do but since it's not too busy, and I am the manager, I can do what I want.
Jason and I took the escalator, and rode it upstairs, to the food court. "Let's try Shawarma today," Jason said, and I rolled my eyes. As much as I like Jason, the fact that so many people can't make the difference between Persians and Arabs irks me. I'm not big on Arab cuisine. Persian cuisine is more my style.
"Today I feel like Chinese," I said firmly, and Jason smiled, and shook his head. We walked over to the Manchu Wok place and had ourselves two delicious plates of rice, with chicken wings, egg rolls, spring rolls and two cans of Pepsi. Jason used his MBNA Mastercard to pay for the whole thing. I told myself I'd pay him back tomorrow.
"Thank you Jason," I said, as we sat down at our favorite spot, at the center of the food court, and ate. As I ate a spoonful of rice, I looked at my co-worker. Jason is always impeccably dressed, and ever the gentleman. Whenever I'm having a lousy day at work, he's the one that I turn to.
We're friends on Facebook, and it always mystifies me how, even though Jason has legions of female fans and admirers, the dude is perennially single. Jason comes from a prominent Haitian-Canadian family. His father, Louis Charles Valbrun teaches economics at the University of Montreal, and his mother Jasonnine Valbrun is a Nurse. We've met, while I was still doing my undergrad. I took an economics course as an elective during my final year.
"You are something else, Leila," Jason said, his deep voice snapping me out of my reverie. I looked at him, and smiled faintly. This man is sinfully sexy and doesn't seem to know it. He's the best salesperson at our store, especially when it comes to signing up female customers. Now, I'm not one of those girls who crosses the line with male friends. Besides, I like to date guys from my background and faith, and Jason's Adventist beliefs weird me out. I believe Middle-Eastern churches to be closer to true Christian beliefs. I consider all the new faiths to be strange. Still, Jason does have his appeal.
