Echoes of Tehran in Valencia: When Celebration Meets Trauma

 

Valencia is currently burning with the energy of the Fallas festival. The streets are filled with the constant roar of firecrackers, thick smoke, and towering monuments waiting to be consumed by flames. But for me, having arrived in this city only 15 days ago, these sounds carry a different weight.

Last night, as the spectacular pyrotechnics reached their peak, it coincided exactly with our ancient Persian festival, Chaharshanbe Suri (The Scarlet Wednesday). While the crowds around me were dancing and cheering, I stood frozen. To them, these explosions were the heartbeat of a celebration; to me, they were a trigger. Every bang felt like a flashback to the streets of Tehran to the days when the sound of an explosion meant terror, gunfire, and the bullets that turned the dreams of my generation into ashes.

In this haunting contrast between Spanish joy and Iranian trauma, my friend and I realized a bitter truth: We were once like these people.

[To read the full personal story and my analysis on why these echoes of fire are so different for an exile, join me on my Substack:]

👉 https://open.substack.com/pub/namirablog/p/their-celebration-my-trauma-why-fireworks?r=7zb6rm&utm_medium=ios