As in any other country, Iran is ripe with quirks and eccentricities. Even though Iranians may consider some of these cultural customs ordinary and mundane, they are sure to raise a foreign eyebrow or two. And while there are countless ones that I could write about, I’ve compiled a list of some of my favorite Iranian traditions and customs that are worth knowing about (aside from taarof, which I did not include on the list). These are the things that only locals really get (at least for the time being).
Sur dâdan
The dictionary defines sur dâdan / سور دادن as “to give a party or banquet,” but it requires a bit more context. It’s a party you throw in order to celebrate something you’ve bought that’s valuable (like a house or car) or another big occasion like a graduation or landing your dream job. Friends and family might tell you “Sur dâreh!” (You have to throw a party [so we can celebrate with you]). It doesn’t necessarily have to be a party though. You could get some sweets or treat to dinner. When one of my students was granted early leave from his military service, he didn’t wait for anyone to tell him sur dâreh and went ahead and brought a box of pastries to celebrate with the class. After moving into my new apartment, my friends asked, “Shirinish-o key midi?” (When are you going to give the sweets?), which is another way of saying sur dâreh. Iranians are always up to join you in your celebration- especially if there’s shirini involved!
Celebrating birthdays on the eve
As long as we’re talking about celebrations, it’s important to know that Iranians celebrate birthdays on the eve. This one confused me for the longest time. I kept wondering why friends and relatives came so close to getting my birthday right but in the end missed the mark. Until one day I learned about the whole “eve” thing. And while I appreciate any gesture acknowledging my birthday, I have to admit, there’s something a little disappointing about it happening the day before. Mainly because in my mind, there’s this build-up, and the day before you’re thinking, “How exciting! Tomorrow’s my birthday.” And that’s when the birthday wishes come flooding in. Then on your actual birthday? Crickets! You’ll notice that Iranians do this with Christmas and New Year’s, too, so expect to hear Merry Christmas on December 24th and Happy New Year on December 31st.
Nazri
Nazri / نذری is the food (such as âsh, sholeh zard [saffron rice pudding], gheymeh stew, etc.) that people make in massive quantities and distribute [for free] for religious merit. It’s particularly common during Ramadan or the Islamic month of Muharram, when the ceremonies of Tasua and Ashura (the eve and day of the martyrdom of Imam Hussein, respectively) occur. Many people truly believe that eating nazri, even just a bite, will bless them.
It’s also during these times (or other religious ceremonies in general) that you’ll see istgâh-e salavâti. These are little kiosks that give out water and tea for free. If you take some, in exchange, you send a salavât / صلوات (consider this something like the Islamic version of a “hail Mary”. It’s an Arabic phrase that means “Peace be upon Mohammad and his descendants.”) When something is salavâti, it’s free but for a religious purpose and you’re supposed to send a salavât if you take it.
Kheyrât
Kind of piggy-backing on the idea of nazri above is kheyrât / خیرات (charitable deeds). You’ll be walking down the street and notice a random open box of sweets/dates/chocolates in front of a store. Iranians put these out for the public in honor of loved ones who have passed on. This usually happens on Thursday evenings (known as shab-e jomeh in Persian) because that’s a particularly auspicious time to pray for the deceased or visit them at the cemetery. If you take one, you say a prayer for the person. Now obviously, 1) no one will know if you did or not and 2) you won’t know exactly who you’re praying for. Nevertheless, that’s the idea behind it.
I entered a relative’s apartment building once and saw a box of zulbiâ-bâmieh in the lobby. The doorman told me one of the neighbors had put it there, so I took one and said a prayer. Another time, I was around Tajrish Bazaar on a Thursday night, and a man was handing out bags of salt to passersby as his form of kheyrât.
Returning a dish with a gift inside
This is a great tradition and one I propose we adopt in the US. Say someone gives you food in a dish that you have to return (Iranians would never dream of giving you anything disposable- gasp!- Well, not unless it was nazri). It would be rude to return an empty dish, so what Iranians do is place a small gift inside as a thank you. And what you place inside simply depends on what you have in your kitchen. Suppose you baked a cake earlier that day. You could put a slice in the dish and return it. Or throw in a handful of chocolates or pistachios. A small container of saffron is super nice. If you have nothing, a couple of stems of flowers would work. There’s no fixed rule. The idea is simply not to return an empty dish.
Burning espand
Iranians can be a bit superstitious, especially when it comes to being jinxed. So in order to avoid it, they burn espand (wild rue seeds) until they start to crackle and then wave the smoke over the heads of their loved ones while sending three salavât. You’ll sometimes see people waving around espand on the street. I even saw it once at a hair salon which I thought was funny. Because espand is said to have purification properties, Iranians burn it from time to time in their homes or any time they move into a new house. (More on espand and superstitions in this post.)
Throwing water behind the traveler
When a friend or family member goes on a trip, Iranians prepare a tray that has a Quran and a glass of water (symbolizing pure flowing water). The traveler kisses and passes under the Quran three times for protection. Then as they leave, the remaining family members toss the water from the glass behind them, a gesture symbolic of ensuring their safe return.
This concept of passing the Quran over your head is quite common. And not just for travel. I also used to do it in college before I took a major exam. What’s interesting and kind of sweet to me is that I’ve actually seen Quran (or a picture/something symbolic of one) suspended over ER doors in the hospital so that when patients are rushed in, they roll right under it.
Putting a water glass on a plate
This one may not seem like a big deal, but it’s one that, for whatever reason, has always stood out to me. If you ask for a glass of water, Iranians will put the glass on a plate before giving it to you. A few times my American side has just handed them the glass, and immediately, I feel as though I’ve committed a massive faux pas. It’s something that I have to consciously remember to do. “Put the glass on a plate. Put the glass on a plate.”
Speaking of water, there’s a common Persian saying, âb-e natalabide morâd ast, which literally translates as, “water that you haven’t asked for grants your wish.” I learned this from my students who would excuse themselves to get some water and return with a glass for me, too (even though I hadn’t wanted any). They say when someone brings you water that you didn’t ask for, you should take it as fâl-e nik / فال نیک (a good omen).
Wearing slippers
Ok, people everywhere wear slippers, but Iranians are especially fond of them, which means there’s some serious slipper etiquette in Iran. Let’s break it down. First and foremost, slippers are called dampâ-yi (دمپایی) in Persian, which is literally “at your feet.” There are house slippers, bathroom slippers, and outside slippers, and they can each only be worn in their respective spaces. Going to the bathroom? Take off your house slippers, and slip on those in the bathroom. (Incidentally, this is why there’s always a pair of plastic slippers in hotel bathrooms in Iran. Iranians need slippers.) Going outside? Change into outside slippers.
I’ve never been a slipper person myself. I’m perfectly fine barefoot or with socks, but after all this time, my relatives still can’t seem to accept this. Every time I go to their houses, they offer me slippers, and I have to tell them [again] that I don’t need any. And since they know my house is a slipper-free zone, they bring their own when they come over. (Although I do have a pair in the guest bathroom for their sake.)
The wishbone
This one takes me back to my childhood. Whoever got the wishbone (جناق / jenâgh) would choose someone to break it with. But first, you would decide, sar-e chi shart bebandim? (What should we bet on?) And the answer was always something simple like ice cream or gum. Then throughout the day, any time that person handed you something, you’d have to say yâdeh (I remember). If you took the item without saying anything, the other person would say yâdeh man, to farâmush (I remember and you forgot) and become the newly-crowned recipient of an ice cream/gum.
One of my uncles was a master wishbone player. And this was his foolproof trick: as soon as we broke the wishbone, he’d give me his piece, and I’d take it without saying yâdeh (because come on! We just started!), thereby losing in 2 seconds flat. I fell for it Every. Last. Time. And this, of course, only increased my determination to beat him, so I always chose him as my wishbone opponent. But he never cut a kid some slack.
Cooling watermelons in a fountain
This was a new one for me. And I saw it for the first time during my first week in Iran when I lived in Mashhad: I’m taking an evening walk in Kuh Sangi Park. It’s a beautiful park with streams flowing through it set to the backdrop of a rocky mountain. Families are out picnicking (a beloved Iranian pastime), playing badminton, and chatting. And then I notice a watermelon in one of the streams. My initial thought was, “Did someone drop this on the way to score the perfect picnic spot?” (And if so, how come it didn’t bust?) As I continue my walk, I see more watermelons. What was going on? Did they roll away from their respective owners and nobody noticed?
Fast forward 3 years to Chaharmahal and Bakhtiari province. We decided to take a break and cool off by a spring. The melted mountain snow meant the water was numbingly cold. “But first things first,” my friends said as they took the watermelons we bought and threw them in the spring. There it was again! “Wouldn’t you rather have cold watermelon?” they asked me. So that’s what it was! Iranians plop watermelons into the nearest body of water to chill. With my question finally answered, we set out to take pictures and explore the area while the watermelons reached a crisp, cool temperature.
Offering rides to strangers
This is another one that I learned after a great deal of confusion. I was walking down my street one day when a lady slowed her car to ask me directions. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help her, so she thanked me and drove off, but suddenly stopped again. This time as I passed her, she offered me a ride, and it really took me by surprise. I thanked her and kept walking. A similar situation happened two more times, and each time, the American in me couldn’t help but feel slightly sketched out. So I did what I always do and asked my relatives. They told me that this was actually totally normal. That when Iranians ask someone for directions, they’ll often offer to give that person a ride if they’re going the same way. Now, this comes with a caveat. I should mention that all three people who offered me rides were women. A man probably wouldn’t do this to a woman (unless he’s driving a taxi), and if he did, you should be wary. Regardless of them being women, my relatives warned me I should be careful (which was a given). But this one was new and sort of fascinating for me. Oddly enough, those three times happened within just a few days of each other. And it’s never happened again since. It’s like the Persian saying goes, tâ seh nashe, bâzi nashe.
Alanna Peterson
30 July 2019 at 17:47I really loved this post! Taken together, these customs paint a picture of a society with an underlying spirit of generosity, where people share in each others’ joys and sorrows (which is, I think, something we could learn a lot from in American culture). I especially enjoyed the details about the Quran being suspended over ER doors to offer protection to the patients, and the idea of always returning a dish with a gift inside it. I’m going to adopt that practice for sure 🙂 Oh, and cooling watermelons in fountains—best idea ever!
Pontia
31 July 2019 at 05:09Thank you! I’m so glad you liked it. And I agree, it’s this underlying spirit that makes me feel a sense of unity here that I don’t always feel in the US. I don’t know- it’s hard to articulate, but it’s there 😉 And the watermelon this is actually quite practical isn’t it!
Joseph Zowghi
3 August 2019 at 00:42Maybe I should try a little more sur dadan with my co-workers.
Pontia
3 August 2019 at 11:47Definitely! Everyone’s happier when there are treats around 😉