Sitting across the dining table from Nassim Alisobhani and Justin Yanuck is an exercise in self-restraint.
She is a law student; he is a budding doctor. In May, this Muslim woman and Jewish man will be married in a hybrid ceremony. They are such a cute couple with fresh hopes and fresh dreams, you want to hug them.
But, in truth, you are more likely to want to console them.
Dozens of relatives from across the globe already are saying they can’t come to celebrate Alisobhani’s and Yanuck’s vows. In the wake of President Donald Trump’s new visitor and visa policies, chaos and fear reign from Iran to Canada.
“We live in a world where, literally, they can’t come see us,” Alisobhani quietly says. “I feel so bad. These are just good, generally happy people.”
Many American consulates have canceled or indefinitely postponed meetings for visas, relatives report. There is confusion about how soon visas will become available. There is concern over possibly more changes for visitors to America.
What if guests buy plane tickets and the White House changes policy? What if they land in the U.S. and a Homeland Security agent turns them away because they were born in Iran or they recently visited Iran? Could dual citizenship with their birth country and an adopted country be a liability?
The saddest thing about the couple’s marooned guests is that many of Alisobhani’s relatives fled Iran years ago.
The most ironic thing is that they left because they feared persecution in the wake of Iran’s 1978 revolution, the same revolution that saw 52 Americans held hostage for 444 days in the U.S. embassy in Tehran.
The sweetest thing about this wedding mess is that Alisobhani and Yanuck are well aware that their predicament is nothing compared to what many are going through.
“We’re two very privileged people,” Yanuck tells me in the Alisobhani family home in Corona Del Mar. “In the grand scheme of things, this is minor.”
But nothing about love and marriage is minor.
DWINDLING WEDDING
Bride and groom are very much alike, yet also very different.
Both share great tolerance, great appreciation for different cultures, great love for diversity.
Both are 27, both went to grad school at UC Irivne, both are smart.
Heck, nearly four years ago they met at the same public library in Newport Beach studying for exams.
But she keeps current wearing the latest glasses frames; loves art, shopping and binge-watching the political TV series “West Wing.”
From Simi Valley, Yanuck is happy in his hospital scrubs and loves testing himself in the outdoors. He surfs, skis, rock climbs, runs. He once took six weeks to ride his bike from Seattle to the Mexican border. Currently, he is training for something in August called the Angeles Crest 100, a 100-mile mountain endurance run.
Ever the nudge, I find myself advising Yanuck – who works in UCI hospital’s emergency area – to delay his 100-mile run for a few years. After all, he has a wedding May 20 with a guest list of 400.
“Maybe make that 300,” the bride quietly says in the wake of Trump’s policies that ban Iranian nationals for at least 90 days. “My aunt certainly can’t come.”
Alisobhani explains many extended Persian families are especially close and that it’s common for a distant cousin to be called “uncle” or “aunt.” She reports through cellphone texting that the clan stays in close communication despite relatives scattered in the U.S., Canada, France, Germany, Switzerland and Iran.
“Every day there’s something new,” the law student says. “No one knows what’s going on. No one knows what to do. It’s so unpredictable, (if they buy plane tickets) they’re afraid they could have the carpet pulled out at any moment.
“My family in Germany just goes to sleep crying. It’s really sad.”
‘SECOND-CLASS CITIZENS’
Before they met, Yanuck admits, “We grew up in vastly different worlds.”
Yanuck’s dad is a contractor and his son played varsity basketball at Moorpark High School. Yanuck went to UC Davis and then on to earn his doctor’s degree at UCI’s College of Medicine.
“Helping the most vulnerable populations who don’t have access to health care,” Yanuck volunteers, “is incredibly meaningful.”
Alisobhani’s parents were born in Iran and lived in Tehran before leaving for the U.S. Her father received a doctorate in electrical engineering at UCLA and is vice president for a start-up company; her mother is a psychoanalyst.
In 1986, her parents married. But at that time, too, there were problems with the wedding.
Alisobhani says because of the Iran-Iraq war, it was impossible for relatives in Iran to attend. She hoped her upcoming wedding, in a way, would be a do-over. But the outlook appears grim.
Of Trump’s rigorous policies, Alisobhani says of her overseas relatives, “We don’t want them to be treated like second-class citizens.”
Alisobhani graduated from Sage Hill School in Newport Beach, moved to New York, where she earned her bachelor’s degree from New York University and was admitted to UCI’s law school.
The couple’s mix of religions was never an issue.
“Most Persians I know aren’t super religious,” Alisobhani explains.
Twice the couple has visited Alisobhani’s relatives in Europe, where her Jewish fiance is greeted with hugs and kisses.
WEDDING CLOUDS
With invitations sent, plane tickets bought – and some already canceled – hotel rooms reserved and a down payment made for a wedding in Escondido at the Ethereal Open Air Resort, the bride and groom fret about the future.
They are especially confused about the speed of the visa changes.
“You normally think these things would be rolled out slowly,” the law student says. “But that’s not the way we’re doing things anymore.”
Yanuck echoes his future wife, saying, “It’s so sad.”
Alisobhani rests her hand on her fiance’s arm.
“I’m trying to be optimistic. But we’ll see.”
Contact the writer: dwhiting@scng.com
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