“In Isfahan we ate sour cherries and raw tamarind in the schoolyard… Iran was only a few years past the revolution, and somehow, even as a child, I sensed that I had been born in an unlucky chapter of its history.”
“In Isfahan we ate sour cherries and raw tamarind in the schoolyard… Iran was only a few years past the revolution, and somehow, even as a child, I sensed that I had been born in an unlucky chapter of its history.”