The adventure starts right away. Women flying with Iran Air have to observe Islamic law and cover their heads. So, I spend the next 51/2 hours flying business class fully dressed in a long trench coat wearing one of my grandmother’s silk scarves. Dinner is excellent; they even serve caviar. A glass of champagne would have been great with that, but Islam forbids alcohol.

I arrive at Tehran Mehrabad Airport at 11 PM. The airport is quiet and deserted. I am anxious about what will happen next but all goes well. I am first in line for immigration where the man stamps my passport without asking any questions. Keyvan is already waiting for me in the baggage hall. My suitcases are among the first to come out. Much earlier than anticipated I step out of the airport. Unlike inside it is very busy outside. But there, amongst the crowd, I see Tabandeh (Mamy), my mother-in-law. She is the only member of the family I have met, in 1992. I give her a hug, kiss my sister-in-law Pari and my niece Mojdeh, and shake hands with my brother-in-law Farhad and nephews Behnam and Essy. I am given three large bouquets of flowers and as I am escorted to the car I feel like princess Máxima. My niece tells us later that people around us were whispering: “Look at that arooz farangi” (foreign bride). On the way to Mamy’s house I see women in pitch-black chadors crossing the dimly lit streets and I realize I have stepped into quite another world.