outlast-the-past-background-blur-deep-blue
30
Jan
2020

My Life Story

My Life Story *

I decided to leave my home town . To find new places, meet new people, and aid those in need. So, one day, I said to my parents, “I’m leaving home”. My parents looked at me and asked ‘where?’ I responded, ‘Somewhere poor, somewhere that needs help.’ Naturally, my parents were worried, but nothing could stop me.

The years 1980-1981:
I was 19 and strongly believed I could change the world. I traveled to the poorest part of Iran, and was stopped in my tracks. I was shocked by the poverty. The area didn’t have schools, hospitals, running water, proper roads, etc… I had read a lot about poverty, but the words on the page could not capture what I saw in reality.

I rented out a room and stayed with a landlord. My place only had some basic furniture and utilities. I found a job in the city as a manager of a small factory. After my first day of work, I returned home and found that my landlord had left me some furniture and household items. Although I aimed to live a basic and simple life, I accepted because refusal is rude in our culture.

My landlord had two kids who weren’t attending school because it was too far form their home. I offered to homeschool his kids for free, in lieu of a regular education. He complied, and after work I would teach his kids history, geography, public speaking, Farsi, and many other subjects. As a measure of gratitude, my landlord would cook for me. I remember the first time I tried their food; I said to myself ‘My god, I miss my moms cooking… I also miss mom I guess.’ Lol.

At the end of the year, my students passed all their exams, and I was very proud of them. For the coming year I would have 7 students. I was becoming a very busy man in this small community. Neighbours and parents kept cooking me meals and treats as a form of gratitude. Again, in our culture, refusal is rude, so I had a hard time saying no.

I remained in that town for three years in total. In the end, I had made good memories of amazing people. When I decided to leave, I packed my a suitcase, and left for a different town, for a different life experience.


*-View of home town-Clay Bridge (Kheshti Bridge) is a historical bridge.
Photograph: Unknown

Leave a Reply