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!
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!
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