Skip to main content

My interest in the 1994 World Cup had not subsided. In fact with all of the new material I had received via the magazines my mom had brought back from the US, I now had become even more familiar with the US team. It was thus that I took to writing the names of US players on the walls of our classrooms at Sharif University. I would intentionally choose classrooms that I had classes in (although obviously during times when the class was empty) so that I could monitor my writings on a daily basis. Every so often when the walls would get too jam packed with these names, someone would come and erase them all and then the cycle would begin all over again. 

I still was fully convinced that the US as hosts would win the 1994 World Cup which lead to a new slogan that I added to my wall graffiti. Pretty soon “1994 Victory” began popping up on various walls, blackboards and even ceilings of the university. For one particular class that my friends were in and I wasn’t, I used to wait at the stairwell for their class to finish. This time there, gave me the opportunity over a lengthy stretch to actually carve 1994 Victory on the plaster wall using my keys. With my friends completely trusting me, they handed over their wallets on a daily basis so that I could scribble 1994 Victory on their paper money and thus further advertise my cause amongst the masses as the said cash exchanged hands. I was always curious if I ever would get one of these bills back and in fact on one occasion I did although I didn’t count it as legitimate. It happened at our campus cafeteria as I received change back and the bill was one that Keyvan had just used ahead of me in line to pay for his coupons.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...
Stacey was a nurse so Kurt knew she would be able to give him a pretty good idea of how critical it was. On the other hand her knowledge of medical jargon could make her words seem foreign to Kurt. “He’s sustained two injuries. The first one was right on impact, his brain was shaken around pretty badly. It might have even rotated and perhaps nerve fibers were stretched and veins and arteries might have torn too. The second one is an open wound where the skull broke. The brain is exposed in that area. He was probably hit by some kind of sharp object during the collision.” Stacey unsuccessfully tried to disguise a horrifying yelp that she let out. “It's possible the area around the wound is undamaged. He might be facing long-term disabilities. He’s lost a lot of blood and his blood pressure has really dropped from the trauma. He’s really weakened by the blood loss. Plus there’s the loss of oxygen to the brain. The damage may be catastrophic. And then there’s infection…” “When w...
In 1980 a former classmate wrote me a letter that stated that he was fine and the class was doing find.