Writing these lines is not easy for me. I'm waking up as if from a state of shock. What began at the end of December with economic protests in the market of Tehran has turned into a massacre and a war in our own country, carried out and commanded by our own countrymen.
Back in November, my family and I discussed on the phone how we would safely transport our saffron harvest from Faruj to Germany. We brainstormed how we wanted to design the small 1g saffron gift boxes. We went to the market in Mashhad, admired the beautiful fabrics in a fabric shop, and ordered two or three samples for our boxes. These were then lovingly handcrafted and stretched onto the fabric for our boxes. Our goods were then shipped to Germany, ready to be given as gifts for various occasions.
Now almost everything is destroyed. I can't imagine what happened to the people we worked with. Shopping was so "normal." Everything happened so casually. Those who are still alive are traumatized. They will never get the images out of their heads.
Our saffron comes from the fields of Khorasan, from Faruj. Nourished by the local soil, watered by the local rain. Picked by people who call it home. Lovingly processed by mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers—people who, just like us, feel love, passion, but also fear and despair. What is currently happening to each and every one of them is unimaginable for people here in Europe, far removed from that scene. Yet it affects us. We cannot retreat into a cave and close our eyes. We are all connected. Like a network, we humans are connected on this earth. We feel the same love for our children, we feel the same grief when we lose a loved one.
I truly hope (and wish it for everyone in Iran) that peace and tranquility will soon return. So that everyone can process what has happened and rebuild themselves, their families, and above all, the country. A country that produces so much history, culture, picturesque landscapes, and wonderful products like saffron.
