My life story, Part 34 I was extremely happy for this opportunity, and went to deliver the good news to the chief resident, but to my surprise, he didn’t take it well and was upset to loose me. He gave me his phone number so we can be in touch, but I ignored that and never called him back. I went to Tehran where my family were staying in refugees’ dorm, and went to scholarship office and fulfilled the missing documents and did an interview which was successful. In the documents, there were required to introduce 3 persons who knew me closely and could testimony of my loyalty. One of the persons who I introduced as my close friend who could endorse me and was a member of Islamic committee, despite my anticipation, not only endorsed me but voted against me and took the opportunity of the scholarship for herself. As always my happiness didn’t last long and I received a mail from scholarship office that my application for the scholarship to study in London was rejected. Once again I was betrayed by friends who I thought were true friends. Despite my anticipations, I was assigned to Bushehr (a provenance in the south) where I knew nothing about and although Ahwaz was in a war zone, I wanted to do my internship there. I went to Ahwaz and told them that I was assigned to Bushehr for my internship, But the chief resident who loved me very much, tried his best to keep me in Ahwaz and finally succeeded. I returned to the war zone once again but this time in the hospital which was behind the front-line I encountered with many wounded of war. Death and blood everywhere and worriers who suffered from wave of explosions and had lost their hearing and mental stability. There were not enough supplies to care for all the patients, so many of them were hospitalized in the corridors with minimal medicine and supplies. The doctors and personnel did their best to provide the optimum care possible for the patients despite the lack of medications and supplies. It was when I realized that as refugees we were in much better situation than these heroes who honestly were defending our country against the invaders. I was heartbroken and decided to do all in my power to help them and reduce their suffering.

My life story, Part 33 As I mentioned earlier, I and my brother went to Ahwaz, to my aunt’s. I asked my cousin, Zohre (who married my brother later on), Whether there is an audiology department in any hospitals that I could pass my internship there? She replied: Imam Khomeini hospital has an ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat) ward that may need your expertise. Some days later, I went to the hospital and met the chief resident of ENT ward. He was visiting patients in the clinic. The weather was very hot that day and clinic was crowded. The doctor was busy visiting patients and never looked up. After about an hour of waiting I got tired and was about to leave. He finished with his patients finally and noticed my presence. I introduced myself to him and explained that I just graduated in audiology field from Tehran university of medical sciences and I’m looking for a place to pass my internship. He kindly welcomed me and came with me to the head of the department’s office and introduced me to him. He interviewed me and asked me a few questions about my field and was very satisfied with the answers and told me you can start tomorrow and set up our new audiology lab. I had some time before my internship officially began, so I started working there and helped the department to design and set up an appropriate acoustic room for audiometry lab. A few weeks later I received a mail from scholarship office to complete my documents an interview for a scholarship to London. Our field was newly founded and most of our professors were foreigners who fled the country after 1978 revolution. So the faculty decided to send the most elite students who were fluent in English to study in London and after earning their postgraduate degree return to Iran and teach the next generation of audiologists as their professors. But it was not as straight forward as you might think…

My life story, Part 32 When my brother –who studied computer science- came back from US, I left college to refugee dorm to be with my family. My brother was very upset when he saw the situation we were living in. He couldn’t believe what he saw. His arrival at the time was fortunate for me, because I could finish my thesis with his help much sooner. But for him it was the worst time to come back to Iran. Iran was not the country he knew anymore. All the cards had turned. The country was oppressed by a bunch of ignorant and uneducated who ruled the country just because they were sycophant hypocrites. It was not a good place for hardworking educated honest men, especially those who had come back from abroad. My other brother who was working in oil company, used his authority and arranged an interview for him. They started asking him about his political and religious beliefs, how often did he pray, how you pray for a dead person and so on. He answered all the questions honestly and didn’t know that honesty had long died in this country and it was the time of sycophants and hypocrites. Disappointed everywhere, he started working on my brother’s car as a cab driver, but he couldn’t tolerate the chaos which was driving in Iran. Finally, he took the employment exams and got accepted and started working at a bank which he was later promoted to a high rank in the IT department. Meanwhile I had finished my thesis and went to Ahvaz –where my bitter sweet destiny was waiting to be unraveled- with my brother.

My life story, Part 31 We were neither the young and happy students, nor the fired-up revolutioners we were once. Hopelessness, fatigue and fear of what may had happened if the war went on, could be seen on everybody’s face. From my perspective, my situation was much worse because of war, losing the family members and the loved ones. Furthermore, politics and monopoly that governed the country, made it impossible for us to have any objections to the situation. The universities, lacked the passion and excitement and outside the university, people’s everyday lives were affected by war, as Iraqi’s bombarded Tehran and most major cities. For me, it was a bitter-sweet experience. The war was extended to major cities, and this made the citizens of great cities which were far from the border, to appreciate what had refugees been through. Days came one after another and we were getting more and more closer to the graduation. I was one of the nominees for a scholarship to continue studying in London, so I had to write a thesis which I was working on. I was very happy that I had been considered for a scholarship and soon started to work on my thesis and translating my grades, honors and the required documents. Meanwhile, my older brother who just had finished his studies in computer science in US, came back to Iran to help and build a better society than the one he had left a few years ago. There was not more than a hand full of computers available in Iran at the time which most of them were rental. And computer science was in its infancy in Iran. What my brother didn’t know, was that at the time, the regimen called the US “the great Satan” and those who studied there corrupted.

My life story, Part 30 When we started studying in the university, we were six girls, six boys and two ladies form Amiralam hospital. When we came back to the university after the cultural reform, one of the boys from Mashahr was absent and we had no idea why. A couple of boys were captured during the cultural revolution. Another boy’s name was called by the principal and he was expelled. We were horrified and we could see the fear in everyone’s eyes. Me and one of my friends, held our hands tightly. Finally, the principal finished reading his list and fortunately none of girls’ names was on the list. We were very sad that many of our guy classmates were expelled, but we had no choice but to go on. In the 80’s, regimen succeeded to suppress the opposition which had important roles in the victory of the revolution against Shah in the first place. Most of them were sentenced to long times of imprisonment or execution. The opposition started to terrorize important political figures of the regimen. Iran-Iraq war was an excellent excuse for this suppression. Our field was newly established and most of our professors were from foreign countries, mostly India. With the beginning of war and cultural reform, almost all of them fled the country. Absence of professors, inaccurate translations of the textbooks, the war and political situation of the country caused illiteracy to rule the universities. As I mentioned before, Majid was an air force officer. After re-opening of the universities, I was looking for Majid’s cousin which was a classmate of mine. Finally, after I found him, I asked him about Majid. He hesitated for a while and informed me that Majid was mortared in an airstrike to Basra. I was heartbroken since I would never see him again and hate and anger from who had started the war was eating me up. I was crying my eyes out because of my loss…

My life story, Part 29 In late September 1981, we heard that the universities would be opened for students who had three or less semesters to finish school. We heard that our university’s location changed from college-bridge to Mirdamad street so we got ready to attend the classes, but we didn’t know that the dress code was changed also. The first day, we went to university wearing clothes like we would wear before the cultural reform, because wearing hijab was not mandatory in the society yet, But the university guards didn’t let us in and we had to wear hijab and the boys had to wear shirts with long sleeves and have a decent beard. The first day we couldn’t attend the class because we were unaware of the change in the dress code. The next day we wore hijab as they instructed, but they vigorously objected to our makeup and high-hills we were wearing. We promised that we would do as they want tomorrow, so they let us in. When we wanted to sit in our class, they told us boys and girls should sit separately; boys in the front rows and girls in the back rows. We were afraid to talk to boys and we felt like strangers sitting in a room. When we finally sat down on our chairs, The principal came in with a paper in his hands which had our names written on it. He said, anyone that I read his/her name must leave the class and they are not eligible for studying in the Islamic university.

My life story, Part 28 Many people have memories that they may never forget all their lives. I had such a memory which remembering it causes me a lot of pain. Many years ago, at the beginnings of the war, one of my friends came to Tehran to visit us. She also wanted to go to finance division of oil company. Her father was retired from oil company and hadn’t received any of his retirement salary for a year. My brother was chief finance officer of oil pipelines and I asked him to do a favor for my friend which he knew completely and follow-up her father’s retirement salary. He said, “come to my office in the oil company headquarters tomorrow morning”. The next morning, we went there and after our work was done there, we decided to go to Tehran university to buy some pharmacy books that she needed. When we arrived there we felt an unusual situation and an oppressive atmosphere which the militia had made. We tried to pass through there as fast as possible. Soon, we felt somebody is following us. We tried to be calm and didn’t pay any attention to them. They were chasing us everywhere, even when we were at the bookstores. Suddenly to women from militia captured us and pushed us towards the university were they had held tents at the entrance. They harassed us by touching our bodies and cursing us and calling us names. We were very scared and we didn’t know why they are treating us this way. Then they separated us and started questioning each of us separately in a different tent. Finally, They found that we were honest and had nothing to do with the protests that were going on that day at the university and we were there just to buy some books. What we didn’t know was that day was December 7th which was the anniversary of students’ movement and every year college students held a protest in Tehran university that day. Because we were wearing simple blues and jeans and Adidas shoes, they thought we were from opposition.

My life story, Part 27 Apparently the war was not going to end soon. As a refugee, I lived in Olympics village dorm. Every room had two double deck beds, a small refrigerator and a small desk and a very small space to sit in. Every floor had a common bathroom which made living there extra hard for us. Our lives were under influence of war and political problems. The regimen suppressed the voices of the opposition. Gatherings to complain about our bad situation and to express our needs was often labeled as political and was suppressed. Despite all these suppressions, the refugees kept gathering and insisting on their demands. I always participated in such events. In one of these occasions, I befriended a girl from Ahwaz who was also a refugee, Mina. She was working in a dental supplies company as a secretory. I went to her work with her once. Her boss asked me if I could work as a visitor for them. He told me “We will pay you a percentage of your sell. You sell more, you earn more”. I didn’t accept at first but I needed the money so I accepted the job offer and started working again. The next morning, I took a sample of our products and started visiting different dentist offices to introduce our products to them. Day after day, my customers grew larger and larger and this meant that my income increased. I was very happy that I could afford to buy somethings for my family and help my father with paying the bills. As always, my happiness didn’t last long and Mina was jealous of my income which had become more than hers. She used her seniority and started working as the visitor and I was left to be the secretary. There were many differences between me and Mina. Me as a para-clinic student knew the medical terminology and I was better at English and this was the secret to my success as a visitor. And of course Mina never had my success and an income even close to mine. This came between us and effectively ruined our friendship. I wondered why I never could find an honest friend. Fortunately the universities had opened for those who had three semesters or less to finish school, which included me and I could left the job and go back to the university to finish my studies.

My life story, Part 26 Once, when I was going to work, it was raining very hard and I had gotten completely wet. When I arrived there, I saw the streets were very crowded and militia didn’t let anyone pass through. The apartment where I worked was close to Ayatollah Ardabili’s office. He was a government official. It was very cold and I was shivering from the cold and asked them to let me through. When one of the militia found out that I was working near Ayatollah Ardabili’s office, took me to his boss. On the way, I noticed that the door to my office was open and some of the clothes and books were robbed and everything had been messed up. The thieves had decided to rob the Ayatollah Ardabili’s office too, but they were captured by the police. They started interrogating me and they thought that I knew the thieves. The reason of their suspicion was that no door was broken and all the doors had been opened with keys, and they suspected that I had provided the thieves with the keys. I swore that I didn’t know anything about what had happened, but they didn’t believe me. They treated me very bad. I was crying when my boss arrived. He started defending me and after a while they let me go and kept my boss instead. It was lucky that they let me go that day. I left quickly and quietly and never returned there again.