During those years, migration had a negative connotation; people did not approve of those who intended to migrate. To the extent that in fifty years, only three families migrated, my father’s and two other families. Of course, the reason for our migration was not poverty and hardship; it was the same conflicts that my father had with the people of Dorvan.
During our migration, my paternal grandmother and my mother stayed in the village. One day, my mother asked someone who had returned from Karaj about our situation, and he said they had blackened themselves and were selling charcoal. In the local dialect, he said, “Baba vooleh kon, they were like Sikakakaha.” He meant Africans who were slaves. They disliked migration so much that they used this expression. Well, we had a shop at the corner of the bazaar, and we sold everything, from charcoal to yogurt, cheese, fruit, and cigarettes; it was a long time ago.
On the other hand, compared to Dorvan, Karaj had bad weather, and it had malaria. People got sick and died. But in the villages, the weather was good, there was no pollution, and security was established from all sides; that’s why the villagers did not migrate and considered it a bad thing.