When Parinaz Zhandy, a respected educator from North Vancouver, traveled to Iran to attend her son’s long-awaited wedding, she anticipated a joyful family reunion after eight years apart. Instead, she found herself trapped in a warzone as conflict suddenly erupted between Iran and Israel—turning her visit into a terrifying and chaotic ordeal.

Just days after the wedding, Iran came under attack. Zhandy vividly recalls standing with family on a rooftop garden in Tehran when explosions echoed in the night sky and drones passed overhead. The celebration was abruptly shattered. “The drones were flying above us,” she said. “We saw debris fall and learned a young woman and her daughter were killed. It was terrifying—we all rushed inside.”

As the threat escalated, fear gripped the city. Streets were filled with frightened residents, many without access to transportation, shelter, or even clear information. Shockwaves from explosions shattered windows, and widespread internet blackouts left people in the dark—literally and figuratively.

Zhandy, a Canadian citizen, immediately registered with Global Affairs Canada in hopes of receiving evacuation instructions. But what came were only auto-generated emails warning of danger. “It felt like the Canadian government was simply checking boxes,” she said. “There was no real help.”

With commercial flights suspended and no sign of government-organized evacuation, Zhandy and her family were forced to flee overland to the Armenian border. The journey was tense and uncertain, but once in Armenia, she hoped for support from Canadian consular officials. Instead, she was told bluntly, “We don’t have executive authority to arrange flights or accommodations.”

“We were on our own,” she said. “Everything—from getting out of Iran to booking our flights through Rome and Calgary—was up to us. There was no help, no guidance, no backup.”

For nearly three days during the crisis, the internet in Iran was shut down completely. Zhandy described the isolation as unbearable. “We were cut off from the world. Our loved ones couldn’t reach us. We couldn’t get news. It was total silence.”

She also witnessed the broader impacts of the conflict on others: students stranded with frozen bank accounts, travelers who lost their passports, people unable to return home or access basic services. “No one followed up. It felt like we had been forgotten.”

Now safely back in Vancouver, Zhandy has returned to her role as a language and culture instructor. Despite the trauma, she remains dedicated to helping preserve Iranian heritage through her teaching. “Iran’s cultural identity must not be lost,” she said. “We need to keep the flame alive, even in dark times.”

But she also carries a deep sense of disappointment. “We were left to fend for ourselves. Canada should have done more—for me, for others,” she said. “It didn’t have to be this hard.”

Zhandy’s story is a stark reminder of what happens when diplomacy falls short in moments of crisis, and when citizens abroad are left without the support they thought they could count on.

Journalist: Majid Mahichi

Skyrise Media Society