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69 pages

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Iran

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Publié par	Xlibris US
Date de parution	30 mars 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781669872290
Langue	English

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Six and a Rug in Iran

Pat Liston

Copyright © 2023 by Pat Liston.
ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6698-7230-6

eBook
978-1-6698-7229-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/30/2023

Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
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Contents
Foreword to Six and a Rug
Chapter 1 You Want To Go Where?
Chapter 2 The Other Side of the World
Chapter 3 How Long Did You Say We ChapterHad Signed Up For?
Chapter 4 Home Sweet Home
Chapter 5 The Water Heater
Chapter 6 The Air Conditioner
Chapter 7 Not Too Sure About This ChapterSchool Furniture
Chapter 8 The Traffic
Chapter 9 What? No Commissary?
Chapter 10 Bargaining on the Local Market
Chapter 11 The Chicken Shop
Chapter 12 The Beef Butcher
Chapter 13 Life Without the Commissary
Chapter 14 Oh Please Give Us Back our Commissary
Chapter 15 The Trash Collector
Chapter 16 Public Taxis
Chapter 17 Private Taxis
Chapter 18 City Buses
Chapter 19 We Got the Commissary Back!
Chapter 20 The Snow
Chapter 21 Parties
Chapter 22 Maid Mary
Chapter 23 Mary 1 - Pat 0
Chapter 24 The Ancient Washer
Chapter 25 Mary and the Washing Machine
Chapter 26 Mary Meets Grandmother
Chapter 27 Mary and The Disappearing Beer
Chapter 28 Mary and the House Shoes
Chapter 29 Mary and the Teakwood Oil
Chapter 30 Recycling and ‘Ole Bessie’
Chapter 31 Who Wants to Trade for ChapterMy Can of Corn?
Chapter 32 The Rug That Came to Dinner
Foreword to Six and a Rug
By Pat Li ston
I lived in the same house, in the same small town in the Texas Panhandle all my growing up years. Not all my relatives were adventuresome or necessarily open minded, but my Mother instilled curiosity in me and a respect for differences. Even though I had no idea what I was in for, I wanted to see the world and I wanted my daughters to do the same. My husband was exceedingly agreeable to seeing the world, and for that, the family is most grateful.
I wasn’t prepared for everything and everybody I met, but being 29 to 31 when the experiences in this book took place, I was still impressionable. Almost everything I experienced reminded me that in my past, I had had limited exposure to differences and had traveled very little. During those two years in Iran, I was fearful in some locations and situations, but somehow I had a bit more curiosity than fear. I often saw humor in situations including the many incidents where I had to laugh at myself. More importantly, I found that regardless of what I may have been told, people all over the world were just people, ordinary people, and we had more in common than not.
You will see, in this book, how people recreate, as best they can, the routines, the celebrations, the lifestyles and even the familiar food which makes them feel comfortable in a foreign country. As I reread these stories, I have to keep in mind that the years in Iran were August 1970 through June 1972. Since then, governments have changed, leaders have changed, prices have changed, the world has changed. The experience itself changed me.
I saw throughout my travels that the humanity shared by the people I met included degrees of empathy and concern for their families and for others. I loved the people of Iran, and I think at this time, 2023, it is important for me to make that statement. The regime in Iran is very different in so many ways today than it was 50 years ago. These stories do not attempt to comment about politics; they are simply stories of our daily lives while we were there. Dislike and disagree with the government or governing leaders of any country you want, but remember that the average person in those countries may be more like you, than different.
As I adjusted to living in a country with a different religion than mine, Dr. Paul Sato, a remarkable Presbyterian missionary in Iran, said,
“In another religion, we can never really share or perhaps even understand what is holy in that faith, but we can ‘trade holies for holies.’ In that way we can respect what is important, meaningful and holy to others because we understand that in our own faith we have beliefs, rituals, people and objects that are important, meaningful and holy to us.”
To me, our school was a little bit of America and I cringed when even the slightest thing was written on a bathroom wall at the Tehran American School. When I returned to America, I was still a strong patriot but a more compassionate one than when I left. When I encountered an immigrant, I could see myself in that person as both happy to be where he or she was but very uncertain of how to navigate the new experiences.
I discovered upon returning, when people asked me, “Why did you go?”, I couldn’t answer. I thought if they had to ask the question, then they would not understand the answer. I invite you to read these memories, dive right in, and when you are finished, I think you will either ask that question or you won’t need to.
Chapter 1
YOU WANT TO GO WHERE?
“You want to go where?” my daddy asked incredulously.
“We want to move to Iran for two years.” I tried to answer firmly.
“Why would you want to do that?” daddy demanded.
Where is Iran anyway?” my sister chimed in.
“They are always having wars over there in the Middle east,” my brother announced authoritatively to his little sister.
“Then go to see some of it, but you don’t have to move there!”
“Daddy,” I tried to explain, “we are teachers! We will never have enough money to go see the world on a sightseeing trip.”
“They probably don’t even have doctors over there,” my sister asserted.
“They do have doctors over there,” I answered, “and the school superintendent told us that most of them were trained in the United States.”
“You just bought a house. There is no reason to leave everything you have worked for!”
“Great Grandmother may die while you are there. She’s already old, you know.”
“You don’t even know what they eat over there, and they probably live in tents,” my brother added.
“It is way too dangerous over there. We don’t know what might happen to us while you are away and we don’t know what might happen to you.”
I couldn’t deny that most newscasts in 1970 reported only dangerous Middle East news, but administrators from the Tehran American School (TAS) said they loved living in Tehran and never mentioned anything about the turmoil reported in the States on nightly news. So we had many discussions with our family before we left for Iran. Some of what they said was true. We had only the superintendent and principal’s word that there was good medical care, good housing, good shopping in the military PX, and lots of wonderful people there, both American and Iranian. But yes, we too at the beginning, had to get out the map to see where the heck Iran was. And no, we had no guarantees of anyone’s safety either there or in the States.
My teaching fields were science and English; Jim’s was Industrial Arts. We expected there would not be many overseas schools that offered Industrial Arts and currently needed teachers, but our research revealed three possibilities scattered from Africa to the Far East. One was Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, the second was Bangkok, Thailand and the third was Tehran, Iran in the Tehran American School.
When I learned that we would have to boil the drinking water in our own home in Addis Ababa, I nixed that one. The year was 1970 and America was still in the throes of the VietNam war; so I thought maybe Thailand was too close to VietNam and I nixed that one. When considering Tehran, I remembered being impressed, as a child, with the stories of a family friend who had lived and worked in the Middle East. I had been enthralled with his descriptions of the area and how his eyes lit up when he talked about it.
We had announced our intentions to look for teaching openings abroad, but it was not until we announced our decision to go to Tehran that the relatives seemed to understand we were earnest. To say that they disapproved would have been a serious understatement. To say they thought we had lost our minds was probably more accurate.
No important decision is easy and ours was no exception. Fulfilling the dream of seeing the world meant that we and our two daughters, Jill age 8 and Charla age 11, would be separated from our extended family for two years and by thousands of miles. I could not guarantee our safety while we were away, nor did I know what might happen to those we left behind. It must have seemed like a terribly selfish decision on our part, but giving up a dream because others are opposed to it sometimes means giving up a chance of a lifetime. Something inside me said. “GO, GO.” And as I look back on it, there is no way to express how the experience changed all of us and our view of the world.
Chapter 2
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD
Once the decision was made to move to Iran and the contracts were signed, the days were not long enough to get everything done. W