At 16 I wanted to live in Iran, life in suburban America bored me. I yearned for big city life in a new country. As a child I heard constant talk about the daily trials that come with life in Iran. I would hear my dad’s stories about growing up in Tehran’s south side.
When I proposed moving to Iran, I was met with unanimous disbelief. My friends, family, even my pediatrician doubted my ability to last in Tehran. I went anyway.
"At 16 I wanted to live in Iran, life in suburban America bored me"
Anger is omnipresent in Tehran. People are angry at seemingly everything, other drivers, rising prices, the government. Taxi drivers openly curse the government while making their rounds, “We are barely getting by these days. Blessings of the Islamic Republic.”
Traffic is chaotic in Tehran. I had to wake up at 5:45am for school every day. Private drivers in sedans are used instead of school buses. The cars are small, uncomfortable, and unsafe by international standards. Our driver would crack jokes to our North Korean classmate on the way home, even with the language barrier we had a good time.
Disregard for laws is common in Iran, on the rare occasion that police enforce traffic laws, it is easy to get away with a bribe. I found this amusing, years of orderly living can become bland.
My school was as Iranian as any other. We conversed in Persian, and an all-male environment ensured that I could experience the same physical altercations and derogatives of my Father’s time. School started with a prayer read from the Qu’ran, and half-hearted morning exercises. Teachers were given respect unlike anything I was used to. We rose when they entered the class, and referred to them as “sir” when asking questions.
The youth in Iran are in an awkward transitional phase. They are trapped between traditional values and modern culture.
