Of Life, Longevity and Exile

Thedocumentary 100 and Counting: Secrets to a Long Life directed and produced by Geeta Sondhi, looks at the extraordinary life of Ashraf Hasheminejad and Mohammed Mohyeddin, who settled in Canada in 1979. Thei granddaughter CBC journalist Samira Mohyeddin always knew she wanted to share their story, to let others witness what their experience reveals about love, longevity, and exile. Samira also felt it was important to tell the story of one family in exile, to remind people of the role immigrant communities play in Canadian life. 

And, considering the current spotlight on the ethics, practicalities and politics of immigration around the world, the film, which was commissioned as part of the CBC Digital Short Docs Program, has an even wider appeal at the moment.

But while Samira Mohyeddin would be the first to acknowledge the extraordinary lives her grandparents have led, during the production of the film, she also discovered how they resonate with so many others who have moved out of their home countries to build a life elsewhere.

Just weeks after the film was released, Ashraf Hasheminejad died, on December 28. She was 100 years old.

IranWire spoke to Samira Mohyeddin about the film, and about the process of telling her grandparents’ story.

Can you describe how the film came about?

Initially, we did a pilot about four years ago. We were shopping it around and then we pitched it the Canadian Broadcasting Company (CBC), which became the main distributors. The film was produced by Geeta Sondhi Productions. It had been something that I had been wanting to do, though I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do in terms of honoring them —and not just for what they brought to our lives. I think these immigrant stories are important in terms of the Canadian landscape. You don't really hear about these pockets of communities, and what they've brought to Canada. Unfortunately, my grandmother wasn't able to see the film. When it came out, she was already in the hospital.

 

What has your grandfather said about the film?

My grandfather is constantly writing letters to the United Nations, talking about the state of the world, and makes suggestions about what he thinks people should be doing. So the way it was pitched to him was: "We're trying to get your message out there." He's a very dogmatic, rigid and measured individual. My grandmother was the one who sort of understood that we want to put this on TV. When we asked him questions about love and longevity, he would sort of look at us as if to say, "Who cares? Why are you talking about this? It's meaningless in the age that we're in and what's going on in the world. You want me to talk about love?!" He also said, "In my day and age, you didn't talk about these things. You got married and that was it.” He wanted to talk about war and religion and things like that.

He was born in 1906, and he talked about what they had and what they didn't have, the fact that there were no passports, that there was no mode of transportation. He took us through the building of the rail system, and all of this. There was only one pharmacy, and it would take them three days to get from where he was to Tehran. Now it's a very quick drive. But in those days, it would take three days to get to the city.

 

In the film, he does talk about the upheaval and trauma of leaving Iran.

It’s on his mind always. He talks about escaping death. And how lucky he was compared to the others. That was mainly because my aunt had already moved to Canada in the early 1970s, and had a farm here. So she applied for all of us to come here as immigrants. And if she wasn't here, I don't know what would have happened. I don't know where we would have gone, or if we would have had status.

Always in the back of his mind, he wanted to go back. He thinks he should just be able to go back and there should be no problem. My grandmother didn't really have any feelings toward it one way or another. She wasn't as insistent as he was on going back. All of her children live outside the country. For her it was more important to be with her kids.

 

Did they have anything to say about current events and news coming out of Iran?

He listens to the radio every day, so he knows what's going on. He listens to Radio Farda, at a very high volume.

As you can see from the film, my grandfather was a very religious man. He prayed three times a day. He went to the trouble of translating the entire Koran into Persian. He prayed in Persian. He was religious, but he doesn't believe in having a religious government. For him, the entire system of the Islamic Republic is problematic, whether it's Rouhani, or Khatami, or Ahmadinejad — it doesn't matter who the president is if the president is running an impotent parliament.

 

How has the process of telling a particular story influenced your understanding or attitude to history and to documenting facts?

 

The director decided to make me the narrator, make me the thread that sort of brings everything together. But I was worried about people saying nasty things about my grandfather because he was a general in the shah's army. For many people, the shah and the Pahlavi regime were the reason that the revolution happened. I may not agree with that, but a lot of people do. I was worried a little bit about blowback, and for him, putting himself out there. I don't know if there are any living generals anymore from that army. And I don't know what the regime does, or can do these days. So if they found out there's still a living general in Toronto who escaped being executed...well, I was worried about that. I asked him and he said, "I don't care." At the same time, the Islamic Republic must be really pathetic if they're still going after a 110-year-old who obviously doesn't pose a threat. So that worry was quickly put to rest. In terms of facts versus telling someone else's story, this is lived reality of my grandparents. So worrying about facts or fiction never sort of entered my mind. This is the story of their lives.

I've received hundreds — and I'm not exaggerating — of random messages from people on Facebook who really said that part in the documentary when I say there is always this hope of going back really resonated with them. Because I think for a lot of families, that hope sort of gets you through the day, and pushes you to keep going. For a lot of Iranian families, that hope is still there, despite 37 years or 38 years or whatever. I think a lot of people went through this — not just the revolution, but in terms of how families get split up, and how these things are negotiated throughout the years in terms of relationships. Exile, even if it's self-imposed, it's a horrible place to be.

 

Photo of Samira Mohyeddin by Samra Habib