In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Chapter Six 8 MY NEW WORLD Leaving Iran The struggle to leave Iran was the most difficult endeavor of my life. Six hours short of finishing my bachelor’s degree in English at Pahlavi University , I realized that I would soon run out of excuses to avoid marriage, that my graduation would expedite the transfer of control over my life from my father to a husband, and that I would be trapped forever in the same cycle of life as women before me. Also, the political climate changed rapidly. During my last year at Pahlavi University in the fall of , I felt a shifting mood among my Moslem friends. In this American-style university, many women put aside their latest Western clothing, covered their hair, and discarded their French makeup; men grew stubble and exchanged their American jeans for black pants and dress shirts without ties. Adherence to strict Islamic teachings, and, as a consequence, hatred against the Jews and the West, bonded the young and strengthened their resolve against the rule of the Shah. The sword of Islam became the weapon that would eventually destroy the Peacock Throne. Whenever I joined a circle of my Moslem friends, the conversations stopped; secrets circulated to which, as a Jew, I suspected I wasn’t privy. One by one, all but two Moslem friends stopped talking to me. Although she was from a religious family, my dear friend Firoozeh still kept a close relationship with me. Her sister studied in a religious school in Ghom, the city that became famous later for being Khomeini’s hometown. Once she told me that her sister awaited a man who would change the country. When I inquired about the man’s identity, she realized she had let slip a [  ] piece of information to which I, as a Jew, was not entitled. She didn’t repeat that mistake. During the exams, I would meet Firoozeh for tea in the morning before we headed to the library. One day as I said goodbye to her, I casually mentioned , “I’ll see you tomorrow.” A look of surprise crossed her face. She told me she couldn’t and maybe I should study at home too. Her attitude puzzled me, since she knew I lived in a multi-family house, too chaotic to allow me quiet time for studying. When I arrived at the library the next day, somber and watchful students stood in small groups around the campus. Few Moslem students occupied the usually packed library, but Firoozeh waited for me by the door. I asked her if she too had noticed the “weirdness” that hung in the air. She didn’t respond; instead she insisted we abandon our regular seats by the windows and choose a space between the stacks. Firoozeh fidgeted, looked around, and couldn’t concentrate on the subject we studied. She was distracting me; and I almost wished she hadn’t come when I heard the loud shouts. Frightened, I jumped, but Firoozeh pulled me under the table as rioters ran through the library, throwing chairs at full-length windows. Large sheets of glass sliced the air. Firoozeh led me outside through a back door, and we talked our way through soldiers who had barricaded the school with drawn guns and bayonets. Through iron fences, I watched the Shah’s army rip the clothes off women and batter my classmates. My architecture professor stood next to me screaming, “Not on their heads, please don’t hit them on the head.” At first, my body shook uncontrollably, and then I was listless and cold. While the brutality of the troops appalled me, I found the alternative theocracy more frightening. Logically I knew that my friends deserved a better government, while personally I knew that the shift of powers potentially could destroy Jewish lives. I had to leave as soon as possible. Firoozeh found a taxi, pulled me out of the frenzied crowd, and, when we reached the house, told my mother that I was in shock. She even stayed to help me get in bed. Although she couldn’t trust me with a warning about the student riots, Firoozeh endangered her own safety to ensure mine. Most of my Jewish friends avoided the public arena to avoid the political unrest and the growing anti-Semitism. Their homes became the only places of refuge as they reevaluated their changing relationship with the world outside. For me, however, life in the house became more unbearMy New World...

Share