Part 14 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

A year before my graduation from the TTC, I was planning to continue my education. I was completely desperate about medical school and thought no matter how hard I try, I would not have any chance to succeed as the reason of my failure was not academic in the first place. Now, I think, maybe, that was a wrong idea. Being a TTC student could be a turning point in my status as the TTC graduates were almost half a mullah. The intensive religious training and continuous supervision and control over 2 years in a boarding dormitory could be a good reason to qualify for the medical school. Anyway, I did not try that option and decided to go for English. Therefore, I attended the nation-wide university entrance examination and went for English to get my BA. There were only two options at that time: English and English Translation. I have no idea why there was no TEFL or ELT offered in 1982! It was the first humanities examination after the revolution. I went for English merely because I didn't like translation. I believed that you will never get a good command of English as you always think about the Persian equivants of English words and expressions. We had been told that we have to even think on English in the TTC. Later when I was admitted, I realized that it was actually English Literature! I have no idea why it was not mentioned in their pamphlet before! I did not like literature at all but had no choice as It was done. I was admitted to Allameh Tabatabaie University in Tehran. This university had been created by the combination of a series of colleges that were mainly run by Americans in Tehran at the time of the Shah. Now that Americans had left, they should have been somehow organized in a new way. They combined them all and called it University and used the name of a high rank ayatollah as its name. I still cannot find the reason for this name because this university is not primarily a religious training institution! However, I was happy because Allameh Tabatabaie was never involved in politics and pursued his academic interest in the religious school on Qum. I had my Associate's Degree (AD) In English Language Teaching (ELT) at hand now and hoped that I could skip some courses to compensate for those two years of my life. This never happened and if had to start over. This had made me very disappointed and I always thought that I have lost two years of my life and still should repeat the courses that I have already passed in the TTC. I had no idea that there was a bigger obstacle on my way!

The day I had to register at the university was a big day for me. I was excited to be able to continue my education to a higher level. Being a part of the real higher education system, as compared to the ministry of education TTC, was very interesting and I just wanted to immerse myself in it as soon as I can. I was on time as usual and went to the registration office in the university admin building. I had to submit the documents as listed on their board for official registration. I had all the documents but one. One very important requirement for registration had skipped my eyes. All government employees had to submit an official stamped and sealed letter signed by a high rank official in their ministry stating that they agree with the registration of their personel unconditionally and without any reservation. I was just officially employed by the ministry of education and had no choice but to turn in that letter. Moreover, I could not hide my employment as I was 20 years old and if I were not a government employee, I had to turn in my military service fulfilment card that I did not possess. I just submitted my documents. The registrar noticed the missing document and asked for it. I assured him that I will bring that document and he registered my name conditionally. He also told me that I have only two weeks to submit that document to the faculty directly: otherwise, my admission would become null and void. I thought it is easy to get that letter because after all a more educated teacher is more worthwhile for the ministry, but it turned out that it wasn't. I just informed the school principle that I was admitted to the university and had to attend classes as a full time student, and he kindly accepted to cooperate with me. He arranged my teaching hours so that they did not interfere or conflict with my classes at the university. However, time was passing quickly and I couldn't get that permission letter from the local administration in Karaj. The local authorities believed that this permission is very serious and the decision should be made in the ministry main building in Tehran. This meant a lot of paperwork that was beyond my limited time. I had to postpone it as much As I could. Load-wise, teaching at middle school was no fun. I had to teach for 24 hours per week in Karaj and study at the university in Tehran. It was really hard to arrange everything and commute via the awful public transportation service of that time. There were three grades in the junior high school and I had to teach them all. The textbooks were all written by Iranians and no native speaker author was involved in this project. Therefore, there were not really perfect. In Iran, grade one junior high students have their first contact with English in a formal setting and have to start with the letters of alphabet unless they are sent to private language schools that were rare at that time. It is not currently the case now. English language schools have been mushrooming recently  and it is not a profitable business any longer. I tried to be always neat, clean shaved, and in my suit with my favourite perfume on. My students were always telling me that we could easily guess that you are an English teacher first time we saw you walking to the school yard because of those features. I should confess that I did't like teaching profession at all but do not know what happened that I became interested and in a few years it became my passion. It is exactly 30 years after the first time that I went to the classroom to teach, and I believe that there is no other profession in the world that I like to have. To be honest, I believe that if I get a  second chance to start over my life, I will definitely go for this job.

Part 13 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Two years of my life passed from 1982 to 1984. After all the troubles and escaping death narrowly in the battlefronts, I finally graduated with the highest score. There was no graduation ceremony whatsoever. There was also no prize or favor for being the top student graduate. Wearing graduation gawns was also considered a western practice and taboo at that time! Things have changed now for universities, but I don't think the ministry of education-affiliated-TTC would still allow such a luxury! After graduation, I had to fulfill my contract with the Ministry of Education and start teaching for 5 years at any middle school they decide from September 1984. I was not complaining as I did not have to do my military service; moreover, I had a job with a monthly guaranteed salary. The salary was exactly 36420 rials per month for 24 hours of teaching per week. It was equal to 52 dollars per month at that time and one dollar and 25 cents now (2014)!  We had the option to finish our five-year term and resign or continue our career as a middle school teacher for the rest of our lives. We could also get our military service exemption card after 5 years when the contract was fully covered. However,  if we did not want to work, we had to pay for all the expenses of these two years of education and go to serve in the military for two years. War was still going on in the most brutal manner and using chemical weapons by Saddam Hussein had become very routine with the silence of international organizations like the UN, and the US, and the EU! Therefore, leaving the ministry of education was not still an option for me. As I was the best student (achieving the highest score) in the TTC and for being Hussein's loyal partner during my education and had attended all extreme religious extracurricular activities regularly and enthusiastically, they let me choose my own place of service in Tehran province. I chose Karaj which was the northernmost city of Tehran province with 5 hundred thousand population at that time. It is now a province for itself due to rapid expansion and is recently named Alborz province. Being 40 kilometers away to the north of Tehran, the city (acting as the countryside for Tehran) was a pollution-free and lovely city with thousands of fruit gardens and orchards. The city was also a place for rich Tehranis to spend their weekend in the private properties they had purchased for their secret recreation and mainly illegal entertainments, like drinking, adultery, and smoking opium. It was also a place where my parents had moved to be away from the pollution and hustle and bustle of the capital with 12 million people of that time. My parents had bought a big house in an enclosed area with a swimming pool and had decided to stay there for their retirement. That was the reason I chose Karaj.

I used to have a long beard when I was studying at the TTC to be just similar to the others. Haji had told us that according to Islamic Sharia, any man who shaves his face with a razor blade should be whipped on his back. However, when I graduated, I gave my face a clean shave. I went to the administration of the ministry of education in Karaj. They sent me to the boss's office who was already studying my classified file. I realized that as it was stamped classified with my name on it. He was stunned when he saw me. I guess because the picture in my file was very different from the clean shaved face he was looking at. He said that the ministry has suggested that I do no teach but work in Gozinesh (the "background check" office). This office was very notorious and fearful for common people. It had very regime-trusted employees who had a clean political and religious background, meaning they were endorsed to be extremely devout and dedicated Shia Muslims and the true followers of the leader. The purpose of this office was to background check those who were going to be recruited by the ministry through communicating with different intelligence services and even interviewing their neighborhood, a local mosque, local mullahs, and Baseej's (militia forces) bases in their neighborhood. The job was not over with recruitment but the continuous supervision of teachers and staff behaviors not to breach political and religious red lines was also among their mission statements. This was a too sensitive position beyond my desire and capabilities. Moreover, I wanted to continue my education and did not want to be involved in any political or religious activities of any sort. Therefore, I declined the offer and officially signed my decision not to put the boss into any troubles as it was the ministry's strong recommendation coming from Tehran. The boss was very surprised by my decision as it was a position with absolute power and prospect. I was eventually relieved as they decided to finally send me to a simple school as a simple teacher at my very own humble request.  The school was a primary and middle school for both boys and girls, but not a co-ed. There has never been any co-ed school under the Islamic Republic of Iran. It had both morning and evening shifts. It was run on a rotation basis with boys and girls shifting every week in the morning or afternoon. I met with the principle who was wearing a military uniform. It was a simple khaki uniform with no names or ranks, the type that Baseejis used to wear. He had also pitch black military boots on. I later learned that it is his usual outfit at work! I also later learned that his highest academic degree was a high school diploma and that he had never taught any school subject in his life and was not teaching at his own school or anywhere else either!

Part 12 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Perhaps the best thing about living and studying at the TTC was the pocket money we received monthly. It was exactly 7000 rials. At the time of the Shah, it was exactly equal to 100 US Dollars, but in 1982 (3 years after the revolution) its value was only 10 Dollars! Now (2014), it is only 25 cents! This money was good for using public transportation once a week to get home, ordering books from the UK once a semester (mainly for buying original dictionaries), and eating out. We could write a mail to the publisher to get a proforma invoice, then we had to take this paper with our student card to the ministry of higher education and visit several offices to get approval that it is not against Islam or the regime. Then, we had to go to the currency section of a bank to transfer money to the publisher abroad! The whole tedious process would take 3 months only for a dictionary or a teaching methodology book! But we liked to hold an original UK printed dictionary at hand with onion-skin- thin pages. Iran does not respect copyright law. Therefore, Iranian publishers print and publish any foreign books freely and some have even become tycoons by making huge amounts of money by doing so. However, due to the quality of their paper, their dictionaries were too bulky and heavy to carry around. They would not survive even a semester due to their quality either.

Nutrition-wise, we were almost always hungry as they did not give us enough food. Once, I remember that all students couldn't take it anymore and revolt. It was late at night that they summoned for the director. The director was a librarian but only because he had studied in the US for his MA in book-keeping, he was teaching us English teaching methodology and was the director of the TTC! He arrived in half an hour and was circled by the mutineers who were mainly poor students coming from very far cities and could not afford extra food that we could buy by sneaking out the campus. He listened to their complaints about a few seconds. Then, he suddenly started yelling loudly saying Allah-o-Akbar (Allah is the greatest) three times! Students were scared! He continued, the country is at war and people are dying but you want more food to fill out your filthy stomachs?!!! You must be ashamed of yourselves. The ministry has not given me enough budget to spend on your bellies, you worthless creatures. We were ashamed and left with empty stomachs and broken hearts! When we asked for a calm down remedy, he suggested we pray more to forget hunger and ask Allah to give us patience and power to endure hunger! We did, but the more we prayed the more hungry we got, maybe our faith was not firm enough, a classmate suggested. Later, we realized that he was lying as when he was leaving his position, in a valediction ceremony for his retirement, his higher-up manager coming from the minister's office announced that his services are muchly appreciated by the minister personally especially because he has saved and returned 20 million rials back to the ministry in his only one year term as the director. It was a lot of money at that time. One could buy two big houses with it with a swimming pool in Tehran. We looked at each other and realized why we had to suffer hunger and freezing cold water! Because of this kind of treatment, I started developing ulcer and migraine that I still suffer from. I was very thin and feeble at that time but this kind of food and meal service at TTC caused an eating disorder in me and a kind of uncontrollable desire for food that I am still suffering from. This had caused a kind of complex in me. Whenever I could get a chance to get out of that cursed place even for an hour, I ordered food for exactly four people and could eat it in no time! Whole barbecued chicken with bread and rice or 8 skews of kebab with a lot of bread, onions, and basil per meal were just a few!

Hossein became my best friend. I later discovered that he not only recites the Koran very well but also is a religious eulogist. He could make people cry in no time by reciting poems about the martyrdom of Imams and the tortures they had to suffer with utmost sorrow that was extremely heartbreaking. He was in the center of attention, but his English was not good at all. He needed me for teaching him the English lessons and I needed his prestige and influence among the religious fanatics. This fact glued us together. Haji, the person who was teaching us all these religious rituals and was the associate director in cultural matters was also in charge of our Islamic education. He liked us both. I believe he liked me for Hossein's sake. As a young man, I was learning to be a hypocrite to gain favors, attention, and positions. I could not forget why I failed in the medical school entrance examination and did not want to repeat the tragedy. I once asked Hussein about his feelings as I was so concerned. I was so simple-minded and naive. I thought he becomes extremely grief-stricken by reciting Imams' afflictions and stories of their martyrdom. He laughed and said that he is just pretending. When I objected, he said that all of his colleagues do the same and have the same feeling. It is just a show! But, he was acting so naturally. I did not believe him until once in the middle of his crying, he smiled and winked at me. I still do not think that his generalization holds true. I had to know how much pretending is allowed in Shia Islam, so I asked Haji. He said if it is for a good cause, it is valid; for example, when you are not fasting during the month of Ramadan for any reason, you have to pretend that you are fasting or when you are at the Imams' mourning anniversary and the eulogist is reciting sad poems, you have to pretend that you are sad and even cry even if you do not feel like that. I was baffled and speechless but took it as Islamic law. After all, Haji was our source and resource of Islam.

To improve our English in a situation that there were no English books available, no English daily newspapers published, and no on-campus library with English books around, we could only listen to the radio (VOA special English or BBC) or cassette tapes. But, we had no cassette players! Export and import had been suspended after the revolution, hostage-taking, and during the war. Moreover, cassette players were considered among non-essential and luxury goods mainly because people might use it to listen to music. The regime's authorities considered it a blessing as they advertised that it will lead to self-sufficiency. Portable cassette players were too expensive, and we could not afford it at all! Buying cassette players was our next mission. We wrote a letter to the director and took his approval for the ministry of education. It took us a month to get an official letter from the ministry of education to the ministry of commerce introducing us to give us a license for buying and owning a portable cassette player. Later, it took two months and lots of comings and goings to the ministry of commerce so that they issued an official letter for us to go to their warehouse outside the city to purchase two cassette players with government price. We were so happy that after three months of painful trips to several offices and meetings with suspicious authorities, we finally succeeded. When we informed our dormmates about what we did, they decided to the same but alas that was too late. The director told them that the ministry of commerce has announced that he cannot continue this favor anymore. Our dormmates never believed it and accused the director and Haji of favoritism. They told us that you are Haji's spies and pets. That is why you have cassette players and we don't.

Part 11 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Every morning, we had to attend the morning event at 7 o'clock. This event started with the recitation of the Koran, national anthem, a student speech about the political and religious views that should support the regime, and finally some verbal slogans with shoutings and frequent raisings of the fists to the air! We were dismissed, then, to go to our classrooms. We had to attend classes every day from 8 to 12 and 13 to 17. We had only one hour for lunch and congregational prayers. After the classes, we had only two hours to rest and had to get ready for the extracurricular activities which were mainly religious like the Koran recitation rules, Islamic laws, and Islamic ethics and philosophy. They would all finish at 10 pm. It was a complete recipe for brainwashing, and I was only 18. I realized why there was no questionnaire at the end of its entrance examination. They had a complete program to create the people that they needed, a post-production strategy. It was in there that I first learned the phonetic alphabets, stress and intonation, and teaching techniques. The only problem was that we had no native-speaker teachers and had to listen to the tapes. The textbooks were all complied from here and there ( a cut-and-paste job) and were in forms of photocopied pamphlets. The phonetics teacher forced us to pick up a phonetic alphabet each and copy all the words that included that phonetic alphabet from Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary on A4 paper. Mine was schwa, the most frequent phonetic alphabet In English. In fact, I virtually copied the entire dictionary for my project!

The funniest part of TTC life was in the morning at the time of prayers at the dawn. I could see tens of students carrying their bags, getting hourly leave to get out of the campus. I later learned that they had wet dreams and according to Islamic law (sharia), they have to take a shower to be clean before praying. As there was never any drop of hot water on the campus, they had to go to a public bathroom off the campus to take a shower!  This way, they could be also exempted from prayers too and could also have a good breakfast outside!

It was 1983 and I had become 20. The Iraq-Iran war was intensifying and Saddam Hussein had started bombarding the cities blindly and launching long-range missiles to the capital and major Iranian cities. Iran refrained from retaliating for a while but they changed their minds and retaliated. Things became worse. Our campus authorities had workers dig trenches in the yard so that we could remain safe at the time of air invasions! It happened several times at nights and the anti-aircraft guns were aimlessly firing to the air making only fireworks! It was very scary, though! I was still 20 and it was the second and the last year of my education that a new compulsory scheme was suggested by the regime. The plan was to sending university and college students to the battlefronts for three months! It was primarily suggested to instill the culture of war and martyrdom in the university students who were not considered too religious by the regime. The pretext was that there are high school students fighting in the battlefronts who need tutoring to catch up with their studies! University students had to go to the war zones to teach them and were promised not to be involved in any act of war! Later, I realized that that was a big lie! I had to go anyway as it was compulsory and we were told that we cannot graduate without this! After registration in a military base of revolutionary guards corps in Tehran, They took us to Khoozestan province (Southern battlefront) by train. I had prepared myself to teach junior high school combatants English! How naive! We were sent to the war operations headquarters in Ahwaz and later to a military training camp! I asked, "why military training"? Aren't we here to teach?!!! The commander answered, "I need fighting forces, I asked for fighting forces and they sent me you. You are fighting forces for me and have to fight"! We said, " But, we don't know how to fight!". They sent us to a camp for military training. It was an intensive program of learning how to use a grenade, how to use a Kalashnikov, and how to creep and jump into a dugout. That was it. All in only 3 days! On the morning of the fourth day, mud camouflaged buses came and picked us up. They drove to different directions. After a few hours, I found myself in a small patrol base in Dehloran. I was still far from battlefront lines but in the war zone. Our mission was to patrol the area and arrest shepherds who were suspicious of spying for the Iraqi army. I was never chosen for this mission and had to guard the gate all night as I made it clear that I am a student of English and this is only what I do. There were frequent artillery shelling, very close Iraqi jet fighters bombardments right over the base that we had to jump into our dugouts from time to time. Later, I heard many of TTC students majoring in mathematics coming from another campus were killed during an attack by Iraqis. I was miraculously saved and luckily remained alive!

Part 10 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

I was told that I have to register at the TTC Campus. I thought it is a good idea to learn the location, so I packed up everything and went to Shahr-e-Rey, a city in the southern-most of Tehran province on the way to the city of Qum (where Mullahs are mass-produced in religious schools) via Behesht-e-Zahra (Tehran's biggest cemetery). It is very popular for its shrine with so many pilgrims. It was a very long journey, and I was carrying all my personal stuff in big size suitcases. I knew that I have to actually live there for two years! I passed the shrine and enjoyed the smell of rose water and freshly barbecued minced-lamb Kebab, fresh basil, and freshly baked Iranian bread called sangak. When I reached the place, it just reminded me of a military base. It was at the end of a dead-end alley with a huge and high gate in pale blue. On top of its gate, I could clearly see barbed wires and huge floodlights. There were revolutionary slogans printed in the ugliest colors and handwritings on all the walls of the alley. Later, I realized that this campus is located very close to a cement factory that contaminates the environment with pollutants and that was why there were no houses around the place! It was also very close to a mental hospital! I knocked on the door that was cut on the metal gate. Then, I suddenly found a doorbell and pressed it. After a few minutes, an old man in a blue uniform lazily opened the gate and asked me if I am a new student. He let me in. The campus was a huge empty area. Right on the left, there was a huge mosque occupying almost one-fourth of the whole area. Next to that, there were classes building and administration building. Right in the front, there were the dormitories and mess hall. There were also a couple of cars parked on the right. The place seemed very old. I went to the admin building and registered. Then, an employee-led me to my room or a shared room to be more precise. It was a four by four meters room with four bunk beds located against each wall, one next to the door. I was the first, so I took the best one at a corner and as I have acrophobia, I opted for the lower bed. There was a big curtainless window with the best possible view. The view was the campus yard where I could see all the activities, mosques, cars, and the flag-pole. Students arrived one after the other. There were two other students from Tehran (both were named Hossein!), but the rest in the room were all from different cities of the Caspian Sea coast with strong accents. Well, we had to live and study together in a small room for two years, so we got to know each other. Hossein was from downtown and could recite the Koran very well. The rest of us had no skills. I just boasted that I know some German that I picked up by self-tutoring. I also learned that there are four different majors on this teacher training campus: English, German, Arabic and Islamic education, and Persian literature. Soon, I learned the rules. Mass prayers were compulsory and your presence was officially noted. The worst part of this rule was that 3 o'clock in the morning, they played the Arabic call for prayers in the loudest possible volume in all the hallways and rooms through loudspeakers and after a few minutes the night shift employees literally attack the rooms and take all the blankets off the students who were still sleeping and pushing them off their beds to take ablutions and go to the mosque. This was really painful in the Winter when there was no hot water. I mean there was no hot water any time of the year at all! I was always wondering why because the dorms and classrooms were warm in the winter! Food was simply terrible as far as both quality and quantity were concerned, and you had no right to complain. We were almost always hungry and could not get out to even buy food!  When I experienced that in the first week, I bought lots of food cans every weekend to eat in the dorm. I had to share also with those of roommates who could not afford it or had no chance to buy their food cans which were mainly tuna fish. When cans were over, we had to throw all the names in the hat and draw a name. This person had to either bribe the gatekeeper or escape over the high walls and the barbed wires to be able to buy sandwiches for us!

Part 9 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 9

I received the Ministry's response in two weeks while I was sure that even if the answer to my complaint was negative, I still had an option left, TTC. The response was brief and to the point. It was clearly stated that I was not admitted to the medical school merely because I had left the last question of that damn questionnaire unanswered! Reading between the lines, it meant no revolutionary guards or mullahs in the entire family means no medical school admission! It was atrocious and I abhorred it! There was another paragraph in this short note too. They had generously offered the nursing school at the University of Tehran and had given me a deadline of two weeks to register; otherwise, this offer would be null and void!!! It was unbelievable again! If I had ranked high enough among the candidates to go to the nursing school in the first place, why it was not already announced in the newspapers?!!! Was this offer out of pity or guilt? I still have no idea and no means to investigate! I was on the horns of a dilemma! Nursing at the University of Tehran or English at the TTC? The idea of a male nurse in Iran of 1982 was far-fetched and funny, if not bizarre. Male nurse? You must be kidding me! Is it possible at all? People had already started asking themselves. Some even thought that the men who go for this job have effeminate mannerism and are not really men but maybe gays! However, nursing had two obvious advantages: it was a BS, not an AD and it was at a prestigious university and under the supervision of the Ministry of higher education. I did not know what to do! I started consulting family members and acquaintances. My only maternal aunt, Ashraf, was a registered nurse who had studied at the time of the Shah at the same Tehran University Medical School. She was not happy with his job and was complaining all the time that it is not rewarding, is too cumbersome and tedious, is too depressing, and is not well-paid! I also asked if it is possible to continue my studies and become a medical doctor in the future but realized that it is a dead-end and there is no prospect of that sort! I was told, however, that it might be possible in the future but there was nothing for sure. I have heard that it has become possible now but I am not sure! I became desperate again! I did not like to be a teacher at all, especially teaching adolescents in middle schools. That is the worst age with all its aggressiveness and brutality. Children at that age are rude and uncontrollable. Therefore, I had to go to my father again to pick up his brain. He could always see the future very well, and I had no doubt that his decision is the best possible one can make, given the current conditions. During our conversation, I realized that he was hopeless that I could become a medical doctor at all. Perhaps, he felt guilty that none of his 9 brothers and sisters were neither revolutionary guards nor mullahs! But I know that he never forgives me for not fulfilling his life-long dream. As usual, he stated his opinion confidently and clearly with a logical argument. His tone was very cold and indifferent, though. He told me that if I become a nurse, I will be tormented every day at work seeing unqualified doctors practicing whereas I, maybe, knew more than them but was left a male nurse! A secondary, a minor, and a trivial thing! This daily torture of my thoughts could not be healthy at all and I had to live with it for the rest of my life, he believed. I could even end up in a mental hospital. Who knows? He recommended I become an English teacher. This changed the course of my life. He believed that I can promote myself later as there was enough room for advancement in A teaching position, unlike the dead-end of the nursing school. I bought his idea and registered at the TTC after a couple of days. I had to sign a contract with the Ministry of Education that I have to work for 5 years for the Ministry in any position and in any city or village of Iran. It was supposed to be in lieu of my military service as well, and it meant no battlefronts to me. I also learned later that I had to stay in dorms on the campus and had no permission to leave the campus during the weekdays unless we take hourly leaves with a good excuse! Was it a military base? It even looked like one but was not in the war zones at least!

Part 8 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 8

It was the moment of truth! I received my very own copy of the newspaper and started searching under the letter 'L', but to my great astonishment, there was no 'Lachini' surname in there! I searched several times and even under some other letters of the alphabet to no avail! I couldn't believe my eyes. I looked for Ali's name next and found his name for what we had planned together. He was admitted to Medicine at the University of Tehran as planned. But, I had totally failed the examination, not even nursing or even paramedicine for a BS or even an AD! I was devastated! How could I justify the situation? The first rank student at school and the tenth rank student in the entire Tehran province in 1982 and the champion of students' chess competition nationwide failed this examination. I was about to pass out but pulled myself together and walked to the bus station. When I reached home, everybody was sad and disappointed. My parents had already checked their own newspapers. They didn't speak to me. They did not even try to pacify me! I had missed my first and last chance! They couldn't calm me down by saying "no big deal, son! You can try again next year!" There was no examination next year according to Cultural Revolution Committee Announcement as they had admitted enough for a couple of years. Therefore, I had to go to the compulsory military service and right to the battlefronts as a zero ranked soldier! This could not be postponed as military police were patrolling around the town and capturing young people who looked like those who had not registered for their military service. They even stopped public transportation busses to look for them. If they were captured, their service would be extended for more six months or a full year on top of 2 years and their service locations would be the very front-lines where they had to walk over the minefields to clear them! There were no minefield clearing devices at that time and even if they existed, they would not be sold to a country under all sorts of sanctions. The world was with Iraq both logistically and financially. Minefields were cleared only manually when there was time but when reconnaissance was not accurate and there was a surprise attack, especially at nights, there had to be some foot soldiers called the line-breakers to walk over the minefields to clear them; donkeys were also used sometimes if they had access to them or if there was a plan at all. With all the above said, there was still light at the end of the tunnel! I could officially write a letter of complaint to the Ministry of Higher Education within a weak after the announcement of the results. I did so and waited for the response. After a few days, the Ministry of Education announced TTC results. That was another last chance not to go the military service. I was admitted to study towards my AD (a two-year program) in English major in the southern-most city of Tehran province called Shahr-e-Ray. It was a historical and religious city with the shrine of one of the Shia's Muslims' Imam's sons! The city was also popular for its many restaurants specialized in offering barbecued lamb minced kebabs with fresh bread, onion, and basil locally grown. I was finally admitted somewhere! I looked for Ali's name but couldn't find his! Later, I called him and he told me that he had failed the test! It was absolutely incredible!!! How on earth was it possible? His English was much much better than me and his background check was clear! I was more confident now but was still mournful for missing Medicine! I had no choice but to wait for my complaint's response.

Part 7 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 7

It was an eight-page questionnaire with 40 questions asking about my and my all the EXTENDED family members' activities and jobs before and after the revolution! It was directly seeking my opinions about the Islamic revolution and the local and international characters, politicians, and activists like Malcolm X and El Che Guevara! It was unbelievable!!! I had not even heard some of those names in my life! More questions were like "Who are the friends and enemies of the revolution" and if during my high school education I had joined any political activist groups! I was puzzled and couldn't figure out how these questions are related to Medical Science! BUT, I managed to answer all the questions the way that they liked as I was not really involved in ANY EXTRA-curricular after-school activities of that sort! The last question, however, was like a blow! I almost blacked out! I was asked to write the names and addresses of all the revolutionary guards and mullahs (Shia's clergies) in my family and extended family. Well, I had none! I had to leave this section blank! I was desperate! When I reached home, I started blaming my parents for why their brothers and sisters were neither a revolutionary guard nor a mullah! Anyway, I saw Ali after the examination. We were both happy about our performance, but I was worried about the last question. I asked Ali about that, and he told me that he wrote the names of two of his maternal uncles who happened to be a revolutionary guard and a clergy in a far city near the Caspian Sea coast! I tried to console myself that it cannot be a big deal as a good medical doctor should be knowledgable, not related to a revolutionary guard or mullah! Moreover, having a family relationship does not prove anything, does it?! The Teachers Training College (TTC) entrance exam held a week later did not have that questionnaire. I later learned why!!! I will tell you later! Ali and I took the exam together and were please as usual. Now, we had to just wait for the announcement of the results that was usually done in two powerful government-controlled daily newspapers in 4 months from that time. Days were dragging forward and these four months passed like four years to us. But, the day arrived and I rushed to the newsstand where hundreds of candidates were lined up to get their hands on the newspaper. Some Sitting on the ground and some leaning on the trees, they were looking for their names among thousands of names alphabetically arranged anxiously. It was a life-changing moment for everyone.

Part 6 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 6

I should confess that I always envied Ali, not because his father's military rank was higher than my father's but because his English was much much better than mine! When I was reading simplified English, he could read Time magazine, sold in special places in Tehran, easily without referring to his dictionary frequently. Well, the Time magazine was censored by pitch-black permanent markers over the articles against the regime, or any picture of a woman with visible cleavage, arms, or legs, or dogs shown as pets, or even pigs! Except for his English, we were almost at the same level of knowledge. I should also mention that two years after the revolution in 1981, private English language schools resumed their activities but selected some parts of their previous books and printed them as pamphlets in black and white stencil still poly copy technology of that time! There were no pictures and no colors in these handouts whatsoever! I attended Iran Language School and studies four levels in a year until I received my intermediate certificate! Ali preferred to go to Homer Language School to learn test skills. The day we had been waiting for many years arrived. Ali and I were ready. It was a four hour non-stop no-break multiple-choice exam on all school subjects. However, there was a weird questionnaire at the end!

Part 5 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 5

Well after the revolution, all universities were closed down because the revolutionaries believed that higher education was propagating Western culture and civilization! It was against their ideology fuelled by Islamic fundamentalists, Russians, and Palestinians. They formed what they called the "Cultural Revolution Committee" to revise the academic curricula (especially in Humanities to purge any Western traces of knowledge), fire the "Pro-Shah" high-caliber academics who were wearing "ties" at work, revise the textbooks, and Islamicize universities. They were also on another mission of reconciliating religious Shi'a schools and mullahs with universities and academics by somehow merging them together! It took many years and still continues! However, as the Iraq-Iran war was severely going on and they were in pressing need of medical doctors and nurses, they decided to launch the first post-revolutionary nation-wide entrance examination only for medical courses in October 1982. I had received my high school diploma in June 1982 and was ready to attend this examination. In Iran of that time, higher education was free but one had to compete with hundreds of thousands of peers as the seats were limited. This is not really the case now. I believed that I was ready. Ali and I had invested a huge amount of time and energy on this and were both hoping to win a seat at Tehran University Medical School. However, to be on the safe side, we decided to sit the entrance examination of Teachers Training College affiliated with the Ministry of Education for an associate's degree as well, just in case we failed in the medical school examination. The two exams were administered in a week's time difference. We both chose English as our would-be majors to become English teachers at junior high school or middle school level. We both knew very well that if we fail, we have to go to the battlefronts for our 2-year term compulsory military service. We both also knew very well that even if we come back home alive and miss the "blessing" of martyrdom, we are so detached from our books and studies during these two years, that it would be virtually impossible to be admitted to any higher education institution with that fierce competition of that time.

Part 4 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 4
OK, I found it and pushed myself inside. The owner was an old man who was immensely terrified. First, he made sure that I am really a student looking for ANYTHING written in English. The book store was like exploded with a bomb! It was almost burned to ashes. Burned books and black walls everywhere! Then, He led me to the basement where some half-burned books he kept and asked me to look for anything I am interested in. I found many stage readings and a grammar book by L. G. Alexander "Longman English Grammar" in a beige paperback with a beautiful font. I devoured this book of 200 something pages in a few weeks and started reading my simplified English readings, one book each day. After a year, I had read virtually 400 of them. Thanks to Mepso bookstore owner who kindly sold them to me secretly like something prohibited by law! Ali also told me that I can order a free magazine from the UK called 'Plain English'. I took the address and sent them a snail mail, as there was no email in 1980! After a month or so, I received a copy of the magazine and a letter to confirm that I am officially subscribed to this magazine and can receive a copy monthly at the door. I cannot describe how much I was happy in words. It meant a lot to me. It was beyond my imagination to see a colorful glossy paper magazine before my eyes in ENGLISH! I am sure that the revolutionaries were too busy to check the contents of these packages! Later, of course, I realized that this magazine was actually advertising Christianity and that was why it was free. However, it was doing it in the most indirect manner that you cannot even imagine. You had no idea, as the reader, that you are learning the Gospel through nice real-life incidents, reports, and stories in simplified English. I loved it so much especially because I could order many books through this magazine for free. I had no one abroad to send me English books and no one could even send money to foreign countries from Iran for a few years! Even if I could, the value of Iranian rials had become one-tenth against foreign currencies! I could not afford it at all! One of these books that I received was the actual complete Bible in plain English including both the Old and New Testament. I could read it easily without using a dictionary. And, boy, I loved its stories so much. They were all like fairy tales to me, many of which not believable at all! I read this almost 400-page book from cover to cover several times, even the footnotes about the meanings of the biblical names in Hebrew. But, I was never converted to Christianity, probably because I was not a good Muslim in the first place!

Part 3 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 3
Well, it was very difficult, if not impossible, to find English books in Tehran after the revolution. School English textbooks, I had all known by heart and wanted to learn more but how? There was nothing left. No English newspapers were published anymore and all the English bookstores were either closed down or set ablaze by revolutionaries who believed that English is the language of spies, oppressors, and blue-blooded! This was intensified after invading the US embassy in Tehran and taking American diplomats as hostages for 444 days. I was parched in the middle of a desert. But, when there is a will, there is a way. I learned through a high school classmate who is a brain surgeon in Iran now that there is a bookstore called Mepso next to the British embassy in Tehran that sells English books. Ali also told me that he opens just for two hours daily from 3 to 5 in the afternoon when the town is less busy. He also told me that its lights are all off and the door is locked but there is always somebody available to respond if I insist. I was delighted to hear that, so I rushed to the place in no time!

Part 2 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 2
I was very lucky not to be affected by the political chaos of 1979 to 1982 and onwards. I think it was because of my father's continuous advice that I have to focus on my studies to become a medical doctor. My father was and is a man with great will power and influence over the others. The time was the time of political groups like pro-Russians, communists, and Islamic paramilitary fans to recruit high school students to join them for organizational activities. I did not participate in any and stood away from all the buzz despite being very curious to know what they were selling. These groups were all annihilated by mainstream power. There were all executed or escaped the country. I was safe as I was absolutely neutral. I was just studying hard and trying to read extra books on physiology and neurology, going beyond high school textbooks. I also knew that a good medical student should have a good command of English. I think I had an aptitude for language.

Part 1 - Memories of an English Teacher in Post-revolutionary Iran

Part 1
The revolution in Iran against its monarch, the Shah, which was called "Islamic" later, took place in 1979. I was a senior high school student in the first grade of that time in Tehran. I was a very good student scoring A in all subjects with great aspirations. My father, being a naval force military himself, wanted me to become a medical doctor, and he had instilled it in me that I think I wanted to be really a medical doctor myself. It was my father's dream initially and later mine too. however, things did not go very well after the revolution. Immediately after the revolution, in 1980, Iraq attacked Iran's cities with its troops, tanks, and jet fighters. The very first day, I cannot forget at all. As if it were yesterday that my younger brother Kiavash and myself were terrified by black Iraqi jet fighters that bombarded Tehran's International Airport that happened to be next to our apartment. We saw everything through our huge windows and were trembling with utmost fear. I was 17 and Kiavash was 15 at that time. I received my high school diploma in Experimental Science in 1982. I had chosen Experimental Science over Mathematics and Physics just to fulfill my father's dream.