Iranians Southern California

Some say the world will end in fire. Zoroastrians say it was born of fire, the most important symbol for God. Flames danced high above a deep urn during a recent initiation rite for teenagers at the Zoroastrian fire temple in Westminster. Six young people, most of them from family trees rooted in Iran, wore white and tied hemp cords around their waists to symbolize their commitment to the faith during the Sedra-Pushi, a Farsi term that refers to a rite of passage into adulthood.

Alireza Mahdavi had barely returned home to Westwood from his native Iran when a cousin embroiled him in a familiar, passionate debate, one rocking the Iranian diaspora across the country. Mahdavi hopes the United States will lift the economic sanctions it placed on Iran. His cousin wants them to stay. "Over the dinner table, he asked me, 'Why are you wasting your time going back and forth to Iran, promoting the lifting of sanctions when you could be growing your business in the United States?'

The blue skies, mild breezes and warm temperatures brightened William R. Mason Regional Park on Sunday, but the mood held a definite element of gloom for some of the thousands who came here to celebrate the Iranian New Year. Many had to park more than a mile away and then walk to the event. Others had shorter treks but only after forking over as much as $15 for parking.

The placards, hung in the banquet room of the Hilton in Woodland Hills, bespoke some fundamental struggles. "Freedom of Assembly." "Freedom of Press." "Recognition of Basic Human Rights." Most graphic was a black-and-white poster featuring more than a dozen snapshots of men, young and old. The text accompanying the poster read, "Martyrs of Iran." All of those pictured were assassinated activists.

Ryan Kafri and a group of his buddies swayed and clapped to the beat of a "zarb" drum that echoed through William R. Mason Regional Park in Irvine. The young men chanted in Farsi about the back and forth flirting of two young lovers as others gathered around and cheered them on. The 18-year-old senior from Beverly Hills, however, demurred when asked for more details about what the songs said. "It's a little dirty . . . but not that bad," the lanky young man said with a shy smile.

Relief organizations and Southern California's Iranian community geared up Thursday to solicit money and other assistance for victims of Iran's devastating earthquake. "The best way to provide assistance now is to send a cash donation," said Peggy McGinley of the American Red Cross. "Those funds will be channeled through our international network to the Red Crescent Society in Iran." McGinley said the Red Cross will help in providing other aid "once we learn what their needs are.

Southern California's Iranian Americans, reclusive and apolitical since the U.S. hostage crisis two decades ago, are beginning to use their considerable numbers and wealth to influence policy inside and outside Iran. No longer do they call themselves "Persian" or "Middle Eastern" to escape American animosity born when militant students laid siege to the U.S. Embassy in Tehran on Nov. 4, 1979.

The loudest cheers came after the game was over, when members of the U.S. and Iranian soccer teams exchanged jerseys, high-fives and sweaty embraces after playing to a 1-1 tie Sunday at the Rose Bowl. Those gestures were a fitting bookend to pregame ceremonies, when U.S. players presented each starting Iranian team member with a bouquet of roses. This was a soccer match with geopolitical implications.

Iranian Foreign Minister Kamal Kharrazi wrapped up the Southern California portion of an unprecedented tour of the United States Saturday night, telling a sympathetic audience of expatriates to rejoice in an independent Iran. The highest-ranking Iranian official permitted to travel widely in the U.S. since the overthrow of the shah more than two decades ago, Kharrazi also urged the audience to speak for the rights of Iranians everywhere.

Aranak Tavassoli had spent the last 24 hours on the phone, desperate for news of her family in the aftermath of Iran's disastrous earthquake. Her relatives live in Tehran, which was not harmed by the quake, and in Manjil, a small city in northwestern Iran that she heard has been destroyed. There is no answer at her father's Tehran telephone. So, the 30-year-old emigre, who works as a microbiologist in Los Angeles, wonders: Was he in Tehran when the quake hit?

Twenty years ago, Iraq and Iran launched into a bitter war, killing hundreds of thousands of people on both sides and wiping the largest Iranian port off the map. On Wednesday, the longtime rivals will confront each other once again, this time in front of 50,000 fans on a soccer field in Beirut in a tournament for the Asian Cup.

Iranian Foreign Minister Kamal Kharrazi wrapped up the Southern California portion of an unprecedented tour of the United States Saturday night, telling a sympathetic audience of expatriates to rejoice in an independent Iran. The highest-ranking Iranian official permitted to travel widely in the U.S. since the overthrow of the shah more than two decades ago, Kharrazi also urged the audience to speak for the rights of Iranians everywhere.

Southern California's Iranian Americans, reclusive and apolitical since the U.S. hostage crisis two decades ago, are beginning to use their considerable numbers and wealth to influence policy inside and outside Iran. No longer do they call themselves "Persian" or "Middle Eastern" to escape American animosity born when militant students laid siege to the U.S. Embassy in Tehran on Nov. 4, 1979.

Ryan Kafri and a group of his buddies swayed and clapped to the beat of a "zarb" drum that echoed through William R. Mason Regional Park in Irvine. The young men chanted in Farsi about the back and forth flirting of two young lovers as others gathered around and cheered them on. The 18-year-old senior from Beverly Hills, however, demurred when asked for more details about what the songs said. "It's a little dirty . . . but not that bad," the lanky young man said with a shy smile.

To celebrate Iranian New Year and to avoid the bad luck that legend says may befall those who stay at home on the 13th day of spring, thousands of Iranian Americans gathered in Chatsworth Park South on Sunday. For the most part, they seemed to evade misfortune, unless they needed to use the restroom or find their cars. The 5,000 revelers quickly filled the 50 parking spaces at the park and jumbled cars together on roadsides and even sidewalks.

On the ominous date of Friday, Aug. 13, a radio station premiered with a staff of one (general manager John Paley), music (a two-hour loop of Persian pop songs) and three commercials (recorded in one take by a Farsi-speaking nutritionist who Paley had just met). Several miles away from the new station, Farzad Fadai, 45, was searching for an afternoon ballgame when his dial scratched over a familiar sound. "Somehow I heard Persian music. I said, 'Wow!'

To find the Farsi-language videos in Ali Massoudi's shop, customers have to file past chilled meats, stacked vegetables, rows of cereal boxes and other items that line the shelves. Sepah, Massoudi's store on Culver Drive in Irvine, is typical for the various Iranian communities scattered throughout Orange and Los Angeles counties.

One might say Mehrdad Pakravan owes a lot to the late Ayatollah Khomeini. Pakravan, who emigrated from Iran in 1978, founded Caltex Trading Inc. in Encino in 1979. That same year, a militant Islamic revolution, led by Khomeini, ousted the government of the late Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, setting off a mass exodus of Iranians fleeing the control of conservative Islamic clergymen.

The loudest cheers came after the game was over, when members of the U.S. and Iranian soccer teams exchanged jerseys, high-fives and sweaty embraces after playing to a 1-1 tie Sunday at the Rose Bowl. Those gestures were a fitting bookend to pregame ceremonies, when U.S. players presented each starting Iranian team member with a bouquet of roses. This was a soccer match with geopolitical implications.