Happy Holidays

​This week’s Mustard Seed follows my changing status in early 1978.
Sharing a house with several fellow teachers also provided a reliable return address for correspondence. I began hearing from friends and family back home in Vancouver, Canada. I was delighted to read that my friend Greg planned to join me. I was equally relieved that my friend Danny wouldn’t be visiting. They were from different sides of the track. Greg asked for my employer’s contact information and travel advice. Danny offered solace for the lack of pornography in Iran.
     Since the Playboy pictures Danny's letter claimed were enclosed weren't, I gleaned that, not only had the Iranian police seized and searched my van, they were examining my correspondence. Although definitely not upset by the absence of said images, I was alarmed at the degree of surveillance. I also suspected the incident was meant more to caution me than to protect my moral integrity because, although literature of Playboy’s genre was banned in Iran, images of naked ladies were still readily available. There were many creative ways to circumvent the restrictions; I uncovered one ruse in the course of my weekly trip to market as the designated household shopper. My upstairs room mates had a TV and VCR. Although I was never invited to the screenings, a list of movies, to be acquired as available, always accompanied their shopping list. I was amused to find all the original jackets; even of such standards as Cinderella, Mary Poppins, and Snow White; replaced with pornographic versions. I never found out if the tapes themselves had been modified.
     Close scrutiny by the police made me more aware of my surroundings and, ironically, more aware of subversive rumours that grew in both content and volume. A general unrest became apparent and I began hearing of protests. I was increasingly cautious of what I said to whom.
     A one-week holiday approached. I needed to take my van out of the country to avoid onerous import duties so I planned a return trip to Turkey. I had intended to invite someone along to keep company and share expenses but two thoughts kept nagging at me:
          1) Can they be trusted? Might they be under cover SAVAK agents? If they're known to be SAVAK,                             will those who know begin to suspect me?
          2) If they are to be trusted, is it fair to subject them to the scrutiny I’m under? Will they themselves                         become suspect by associating with me?
     I completely nixed the idea of a travel companion when someone, who on the surface had no reason to know, warned me I would be arrested if I did not get my van out by the fast-approaching deadline recorded in my passport.
     On my final day of work before our break, I got home, loaded my bags, ate dinner, and headed south. I turned west at Qazvin and pulled over in a safe spot to rest.
     I woke refreshed in the morning, brewed coffee, ate some cereal, and continued on my way. I made it almost to lunch when my van stopped running. I got out and inspected the engine. When I opened the hatch I found both ducts meant to direct air from vents in the side of the van to the cooling fins of the cylinder heads were lying loose on the floor of the engine compartment. I reasoned one loose duct might be an accident, two were treachery. Paranoia set in.
     I looked around to see if I was being followed. There was no one in sight. Off to the left a little ahead there was an auto wrecking compound. I pushed and steered my van into the yard next to a group of rusting hulks. I removed and buried the license plates. Taking my cues from nearby vehicles, I rolled down the windows and dispersed some of the contents around the yard. Satisfied with my van’s disguise, I sat down on the door sill to contemplate.
 
     Next week: Where to From Here – and How?
                                                                     God bless.

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