There is a joke that goes “how do you know you’re Persian? After dinner there is a fight to the death in the kitchen between the women over who will wash the dishes while the men sit on their asses and wait for their tea.”

Well my friends, this is indeed how it goes down over here. But after almost two months of dutifully joining in that fight to wash the dishes and occasionally serving the tea myself, I lost it.

We were at my maternal grandmothers house with my own family – mum, dad, brother – my three uncles and their wives (two are married). After a bit of complaining my mum joined me in planning this small revolution. She announced that tonight, after dinner, the roles would be reversed. I made a bit of a speech myself, citing the virtues of equality and independence (meaning being able to clean up after yourself).

This was an interesting experiment. How do you think it went? Well, like any revolution, it was met with opposition. The men could not come out straight and say what they believe to the depths of their beings, “no, that’s women’s work”. So instead each came out with a reason as to why he should be excused from this role reversal. One said he’d been working all day, the other said his neck hurts, my dad and brother (who before coming to this country did housework) said they’re sick, one even quickly offered to stir the salad dressing as his only contribution. Because of their lack of unity we were able to shoot down their excuses, one by one.

Well, the work got done. We had to pretty much hold my grandma down to stop her from helping. But the men were not happy! Amazing to think that there was this much fuss over the simple act of cleaning up after dinner.

Too bad it was all back to the bad ol’ days the very next night.