Finding Farideh

Continuing my trip in Amsterdam, I met up with a friend of mine.

Yet, you can read my trip to Amsterdam before diving into Farideh's story:

Here in Amsterdam, I have a friend with two names: Eline and Farideh. She lives in Amsterdam, but her heart still beats in Iran. She says it herself: “My mind is Dutch, but my heart is Iranian.” She doesn’t speak Persian, yet when she looks into the eyes of any Iranian, a connection forms. This is something about us Iranians, we often understand each other without words, just through a look.

Her life has been full of ups and downs, a story that begins somewhere unknown. More than forty years ago, a baby was found alone at the shrine of Imam Reza in Mashhad. From there, she was taken to an orphanage in Mashhad, and later transferred to Tehran. The orphanage chose the name Farideh for her, a name that would later become a deep memory.

At the orphanage in Tehran, a Dutch couple who were returning to their country adopted her. Farideh, only a few months old, left for the Netherlands, and from that moment on, it felt as if a part of her stayed behind in Iran. Her name changed; she became Eline, but something inside her always felt unfinished.

Slowly, she discovered her differences while growing up in Dutch society. At school, she knew she was different, and this difference followed her for years with a quiet sense of loneliness. It was as if her fate had been handed to autumn winds, winds that pull a leaf from its branch, carry it far away, and finally drop it into a wild river, without ever asking where it wants to go.

Farideh’s life was shaped without her choice, before she even knew what life was. At a time when she didn’t know countries existed, that skin colors were different, that languages were not the same, or that religion and race had meaning. She entered a transformation she never chose. She never understood why she was left behind, and still doesn’t know. Was she abandoned? Taken? Lost?

These questions lived with her for years. She grew up with a large question mark inside her. That is why she became a poet. She wrote, she told stories, and she turned her life into words. Until one day, she decided to search for answers. Iranian newspapers began looking for her biological parents, and a new path opened in front of her.

Farideh’s life story was later told in a film-documentary called Finding Farideh, a deep and emotional journey to Iran, her first true encounter with her roots. The film was introduced in 2020 as Iran’s submission to the 92nd Academy Awards, telling a story about identity, the soul, and the endless human search for belonging.

Today, Farideh, whose name is now connected to cinema and the Oscars, continues to tell her story. The story of her own life, a life made of hard days, sweet moments, and quiet bitterness that still breathes in silence. This is not only the story of one person; it is the story of people whose roots are far from where they stand. The story of hearts that carry their homeland not on a map, but deep inside themselves.

Farideh’s Dutch parents gave her a good life in the Netherlands. Still, she has always wanted to understand what her heart’s connection to her biological mother might be like. Do they hear each other’s voices, somewhere beyond distance?

Life has many complex layers. What we see on the surface of someone’s life is never a true measure of happiness. The outer image is often just a shell, hiding the inner reality. Emotions, memories, wounds, and a soul that can feel lost even in love, safety, or wealth, all of these can create a deep distance between a person and happiness. This is why, when we look at Farideh’s life in the Netherlands, we cannot simply call her a “happy” person.

Life is not one-dimensional. You cannot judge someone’s joy or sadness by looking at only one part of their life. A human being is made of many intertwined layers, some visible, many unseen. Often, the deepest parts of us move quietly, in silence. Farideh is one of my close friends. For many years, we have talked about everything, life, identity, roots, loneliness, and meaning. And as I write these lines is Farideh’s birthday!