My Life in Short Stories: 7. I Am a Survivor

Indonesia
1986 - 1992

The plane was about to land in Sydney, Australia and looking from the window I could see the beautiful city lights and the fascinating sight of the Opera House. I was on a one week assignment on behalf of WHO to discuss and negotiate a graduate education program for the nurses who were going to graduate from the University of Indonesia. I was excited about the purpose of my trip and also to see Australia for the first time which is a four-hour flight from Jakarta.

The Opera House in Sydney, Australia

On that day I was very much pre-occupied with a health concern because right before leaving I had come across a hot and sensitive spot in my left breast during a routine self-examination which I performed regularly. I had not yet informed my doctor about it and I was planning to do so when I returned to Indonesia.

Coastal Scenery of Australia

I went to see my doctor right away after completion of my assignment in Australia and he agreed that the spot looks and feels suspicious but he will not know for sure until they use the frozen section method for pathological studies during surgery and reach to a conclusion. He also needed my consent to surgically remove the left breast while I was still under anesthesia in case the pathology results indicated cancer.

It is still so difficult to talk about my feelings after all these years, but I remember that I was devastated and I did not know how to deal with what I had just heard. I was wondering how to tell the news to my daughter who was at home and to my son who was far away from me in the United States. No other relatives around me. I didn't have much time to ponder on this however as the cancer could spread rapidly. I finally talked to my family and friends and went ahead with my doctor’s plan. When I opened my eyes after surgery I found out that I have been diagnosed with breast cancer and they had to do a Mastectomy of my left breast.

The good news was that the cancer was localized and had not spread at all. I had a zero stage breast cancer and my early detection through regular self-examinations had paid off. I did not need to do chemotherapy but I did however need radiation treatments in order to deter the proliferation of local cancer cells.

My WHO Family

My WHO Family

I had to go to Europe all by myself to continue the treatment procedures that were not available to me in Indonesia at that time. Going through breast cancer was one of the most difficult experiences of my life both physically and emotionally and to have to leave my daughter behind and face this next phase alone, was quite devastating. I have never forgotten those cold and snowy nights in London where it was already dark at 4 pm and I had to walk back and forth to the hospital for my radiotherapy sessions. Moreover, I had to deal with my skin irritations due to side effects of radiations but I was grateful that my situation wasn't worse and a big consolation was that I will not lose my hair after radiotherapy.

Thankfully, with the support and the resources that were available to me on those days, everything went well and I can gladly say that I am a breast cancer survivor. I also would like to add here that surviving breast cancer is not just about beating the disease; it is about recovering from the physical and emotional toll that the experience takes on you and it is learning to feel whole and complete again. Yes I am permanently scarred and yes it still hurts to remember the experience, but my regular self-examination led to early detection and saved my life. For that, I will eternally be grateful.

Later in the year I attended the Canadian Nursing Convention in Ottawa I had the opportunity to meet Martha E. Rogers the American nurse researcher, theorist and author of many books including “An Introduction to the Theoretical Basis of Nursing” and also the concept of Unitary Health Care. In that same convention I had the pleasure of meeting Sister Callista Roy the American nurse theorist, writer, researcher and teacher who developed conceptual models in nursing including the Adaptation Model.

With Martha E. Rogers

With Sister Callista Roy

I was very excited about the first batch of nurses who graduated from the University of Indonesia in 1988 because this was one of the key expected outcomes of collaboration between the Government of Indonesia and the World Health Organization. A number of graduates were going to be sent for graduate education and to come back and serve the country as teachers and managers. This was unprecedented.

First Batch of Graduates

In 1988 my son who was studying in the United States graduated from Tulane University with an engineering degree and my daughter and I were able to travel to New Orleans and attend his graduation.

In New Orleans

My son's graduation

In 1989 in a WHO inter-country consultation in Thailand I had the pleasure of meeting and working with nurse leaders and educators from Thailand. I also had the opportunity to visit the country and learn about the people and their fascinating culture and traditions.

Inter-country Consultation in Thailand

In a famous temple in Bangkok, Thailand

A Buddhist temple from outside

In the Buddhist Temple

In Chiang Mai Thailand

In the mean time I had to go through another separation in my life, this time from my daughter who graduated from high school and left for the United States in 1989. While in the USA, my children had the opportunity to reunite with their father 10 years after having said good-bye to him in Iran. He was finally given permission to leave the country and was able to see his now 20 year old daughter, and 25 year old son. I only wish I could have been there to witness the moment when they first laid eyes on each other. I was later told by my daughter that there was of course a lot of tears and long lapses of just sitting and staring at each other, trying to take it all in and find ways to make up for the 10 years that were lost.

My Daughter's Graduation

In 1991 I had a reunion of my own when my younger half- sister from my mother’s side came to Indonesia to visit me. We had a wonderful time travelling to Bali and Malaysia together and I had no idea then, that this would be the last time I would see her. The political unrest and changes in Iran had taken a huge toll on her and her family, so she was under a lot of stress and was in too much emotional pain to pay attention to the ailments her body was facing.

My Sister Shirin

Alas, we lost her to breast cancer and stress diabetes in May 2005, neither of which the rest of us knew about until it was too late. It was almost as though she just no longer wanted to be here.

To be continued….

My Life in Short Stories: 6. Beautiful Indonesia

1982-1985

In October 1982 my children were finally able to leave Iran and join me in Indonesia. In my mind and in conversations with my friends and colleagues, I had repeatedly envisioned their arrival and what would follow when they were safely in my arms and care. My plans covered a range of activities starting with preparation for their schooling followed by taking every opportunity to embark on a journey to explore and to enjoy the country. We had so much to do and so much to be grateful for.

Indonesian Nature

Indonesian Beaches

Indonesia is an archipelago comprised of a cluster of 17,508 islands, of which, 6000 are inhabited. The country’s population was estimated as 237.6 millions in 2010 coming from 300 ethnic groups. We were stationed in Jakarta the capital city, and the availability of Jakarta International School (JIS) was extremely valuable for the children’s education. They were admitted to the school and placed in appropriate grades based on a credential evaluation. They didn't lose any credits since they attended a similar bilingual school in Tehran which was tragically shut down after the revolution.

Jakarta - Indonesia

While situating them at the school, I was also aware of their need for emotional healing for what they went through in Iran including their recent separation from their father as well as their home country. I requested the school counselor to support the children in this respect in the process of their education.

We were blessed to have the support of the Indonesian community, the Iranian expatriates, and of course my WHO community. We were advised to create jobs for the local people so we enlisted the services of a driver, a gardener, a cook, and two helpers. They helped us with everything and some of them were live-ins. They were considered our extended family.

Indonesian, Iranian, and Thai Friends

Iranian Friends

Iranian Friends

Wedding of a friend's son

Indonesian Colleagues

Indonesian and Thai Colleagues

We loved Indonesia and we were fascinated with the kindness of the Indonesian people, the culture, the history, the art forms and performances, the cuisine, and the breath-taking sceneries and natural beauties of the country. We quickly picked up the Indonesian language which is rather easy to learn because it does not conjugate in the past or present. You simply time stamp your present-tense statement by attaching a “yesterday” or “tomorrow” to it for example. The locals were pleasantly surprised when we spoke in their native tongue and bargained with them at the markets. This is a culturally expected interaction when shopping.

We visited the Borobudur temple in central Java which according to available information was built in the 9th century and abandoned in the 14th century after the decline of Buddhist and Hindu kingdoms in Java and conversion of Javanese people to Islam. However, the monument is a shrine as well as a place for pilgrimage. Once a year during the full moon in May or June, Buddhists visit the temple and observe the Vesak day in commemoration of the birth and death of Buddha and the day is a national holiday in Indonesia. The Borobudur temple is preserved through several restorations and the monument is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Prambanan near Borobudur 

With Children in Borobudur Temple

Borobudur Temple

We visited Bali Island which is surrounded by coral reefs and beautiful beaches. Bali is considered one of world’s best islands, ranked second after Greece. It is known for its diverse and sophisticated art forms such as painting, sculpture, wood carving, handcrafts and performing arts. We enjoyed the Balinese dances and sacred rituals such as Barong dance and the extra ordinary art of Wayang Kulit or shadow puppets with a Gamelan orchestra. Gamelan is percussion orchestra music and it represents a native art form. We loved the music and we learned that people consider it sacred and believe that it has supernatural power.

Hindu Temple in Bali

Bali Temple

Shadow Puppet Show

Wood Carving of Bali

 My job as a WHO nurse educator working with the Ministry of Health, the Indonesian nurses, the medical professionals and the University of Indonesia in Jakarta was extremely productive and rewarding and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to work in Indonesia. At one time, in a ceremony where the nursing profession was being honored by the president of Indonesia, I got the opportunity to meet with President Suharto in his presidential palace.

With President Suharto

At Presidential Palace

On another occasion I joined my Indonesian colleagues to visit the Irian Jaya province, presently called West Papua, which refers to the whole of the Indonesian portion of New Guinea. The province is the largest eastern province of Indonesia and is six hours by plane from Jakarta. We had the opportunity to visit a health center and to talk with the local communities. At one of the local huts we saw a one hundred year old mummified corpse in a sitting position and we were told that he was the oldest and the most senior member of the family and his body was preserved based on family traditions. According to literature, deliberate mummification is a feature of several ancient cultures.

West Papua (Irian Jaya)

A Mummified Corpse

A Souvenir Picture 

Wood Carving of West Papua

For summer vacation we could not visit Iran given the political unrest there so we went to France and spent several wonderful summer vacations there as well. We had the opportunity to expand our horizons and to become exposed to various cultures which to this day, I find invaluable.

Two years flew by and soon it was time for my son to graduate from high school. He was accepted at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana and left Indonesia in 1984. In addition to getting used to my son's absence, the year ahead came with many trials and tribulations but I had no idea then that one of the hurdles I would have to overcome, would be life threatening.



To be continued….

My Life in Short Stories: 5. Fears Rush In

On September 22, 1980, to everyone’s horror, the radio and television news in Tehran was all about the bombardment of Tehran Mehrabad Airport and a few major air bases in other cities of Iran by the Iraqi forces. In other words, the Iran – Iraq war had officially begun.

Tension was increasing in Iran by the hour and people were worried about the on-going war which was impacting our day to day life. The supermarkets were short of food items and people were buying a lot of canned food and other supplies for storage purposes.

I was distraught and fearful of not being able to get us all out of Iran in order to protect my children from the consequences and devastation of war. Now that the airport was destroyed, I had to find other means with which to leave so I started to explore my options.

My travel agency informed me that I could take a bus to Turkey which would take me from Tehran to Istanbul through Ankara and from there I could take a plane to Paris. I would however, be on the road for a total of four days and three nights with no stops except for getting gas and bathroom breaks. I was also forewarned that the road may be dangerous and unsafe and that the possibility existed that we would be mugged, stripped naked, or worse.

I was terrified of the option before me, but losing my children to war terrified me even more. It was either my life or theirs which is a no-brainer for a mother. After securing the safety of my children through their Dad and my family and friends I left Tehran for Turkey by bus in November 1980. I was driven by hopes of securing a job overseas and getting my children out of Iran. My sister was a university student in France and I had a few other friends in Paris so I knew I would have support if I just get there safely.

The bus was almost full and there were two drivers who took turns driving the bus. The passengers were mostly men and no one was interested to break the silence with conversation. Tea and coffee was available and we bought our own food and snacks on the road as needed when we stopped for breaks. I got through the trip by focusing on my ultimate goal and what I needed to do in the days and weeks ahead. As promised it took us four days and three nights to reach Istanbul. We arrived in the afternoon and everyone was exhausted. I hailed a taxi right away and asked the driver to take me to the Istanbul Hilton. I had never been to Turkey before but somehow I knew that going to a well known hotel would be the safest thing to do.

Istanbul, Turkey

Istanbul Hilton

I checked into the hotel and informed the concierge of my flight to Paris scheduled for the next evening. My room was on the top floor and as I went to pull the curtain to prepare for bed I was stunned by one of the most beautiful sceneries of the world from my window. My room was overlooking the famous Bosporus Strait which forms part of the boundary between Europe and Asia. Most of that trip is a blur but that scenery was so breathtaking that I still carry that image in my mind after all these years. I then went to sleep and was so tired that I did not wake up until the afternoon of the following day. That evening I took the flight to Paris as planned.

Paris Eiffel Tower

Paris Seine River

In Paris I was following the news of the war regularly and I spent a lot of time searching for international jobs, sending resumes and completing job applications. I registered at a French language center to sharpen my skills and at a local university to pursue my post-graduate studies in order to qualify for better jobs.

The news of the war was horrifying, we were hearing about thousands of casualties on both sides. It was in the news and it is documented that the Islamic regime of Iran had started its “rapid mobilization of young volunteers” program in order to encourage young Iranians to carry out human wave attacks on Iraqi positions in expectation of martyrdom. They used the children, some as young as eleven, to run into mine fields and clear the way for the regular soldiers behind them. This resulted in severe casualties of young volunteers and the suffering of many families.

A Young Iranian Volunteer

At that time my son was thirteen years old and my daughter was eight. I was extremely worried about their future. I then got the news that the father of my children and my own father, along with many others, had been arrested by the revolutionary guards and are being questioned for their alleged association with the Shah’s regime. They were both released after a few months but our families suffered a lot.  We later heard that during their incarceration in separate cells they could hear from the other side of their cell wall that prisoners much like themselves were being assassinated daily. They never knew whether they would be next.

One day, while I was anxiously looking through my mail in anticipation for a job offer, I came across a few positive responses one of which was from the World Health Organization (WHO). Their job offer was to work with a health manpower development project in Jakarta, Indonesia.  It was at that moment that I knew I was one step closer to my goal which was to bring my children out of Iran and away from danger. I was thrilled!!

Jakarta, Indonesia

A few weeks later, I learned that the Tehran airport had been renovated and flights to Iran had resumed. I made a reservation right away as I was eager to see my children and my family again. While in Tehran I assessed the political and living situation one more time and I became more convinced and determined than ever about my decision to leave Iran with my children. I accepted the job offer from the WHO and left Tehran for Paris again towards the end of 1981. I promised my children that I will send for them as soon as I began work.

With my Children in Tehran

In July 1982, after completing my interviews and employment procedures in Geneva and Washington D.C., I reported to the WHO Regional Office in New Delhi, India for briefing before going to the country of my assignment - Indonesia. Furthermore, in a letter to the World Health Organization, I explained my children’s situation in Iran and I requested WHO’s assistance in facilitating their exit so that they could join me in Indonesia.

With my Children in Indonesia

After two long months of anxiously waiting and praying that my son wouldn’t be drafted to war as a young volunteer, my children finally joined me in Indonesia and my heart was filled with joy and gratitude.

Behrad and Lily in Jakarta

Saying goodbye to their father was heart wrenching however, given that they didn’t know when they would see him again. Little did we know then, that it would take ten long years for that to happen because he had been black listed by the government and was forbidden to leave the country.



To be continued…….

My Life in Short Stories: 4. The End of My Fairy Tale

The late 70s was a period of turmoil and political unrest in Iran and for me, a time of personal and emotional challenges. In the early 70s I was happily married, had two wonderful children, and had a full-time teaching job at a university. Unfortunately my fairy tale marriage came to an end after eleven years when I learned of my husband’s extramarital affairs. After that I could not establish or maintain any successful relationships and when I look back now I would like to think that everything happened for a reason and the reason had to do with the future of our children.

After 1975 I got heavily involved in reading and listening to political conversations that were going on around me. There were talks of revolution and in the university where I was teaching the faculty members were engaged in heated discussions and we soon came to learn about everybody’s political orientation. My so-called leftist colleagues were clearly pro revolution because they were sure that the fruits of the movement will fall into their hands and of course they were wrong.  The rest of us were fearful of the unknown and the women in particular did not want to lose their freedom or to be forced to cover themselves from head to toe in the name of religion.

I did not come from a religious family and even though I had seen my grandmother and my aunt pray, I was never forced to practice any religion. But I believed in God and I respected people with all religious convictions and backgrounds. As a young girl I read in a book of spirituality that I can pray or ask for help from Saints of all religions and I liked that idea. I remember being a member of the Christmas Choir when I was a student at the American University of Beirut and I enjoyed singing for patients in the hospitals during the Christmas Holidays.

My paternal grandparents were journalists and my grandmother wrote about women’s right to education, changing marriage laws and veiling. She was among the first women who took off her veil when the women were given the freedom to do so during the Shah’s father’s reign. She published her magazine in the 1920’s and was violently opposed by religious groups. She finally was forced into exile and had to run for her life.

My grandmother Fakhrafagh Parsay

My grandfather Farrokhdin  Parsay

My aunt who was my role model and had helped me change my life as a teenager, was the fourth child in her family and was born when my grandmother was in exile. She was a medical doctor and an educator by profession. She wrote in her diaries “Most Iranians in the age group of 20-50 know me well because I have been a teacher, a school principal, and the vice minister of education for several years. I was the first woman to become a member of parliament and the first woman to become the Minister of Education”.

My Aunt Dr. Farrokhrou Parsay
The Minister of Education

In January 1979 which was the peak of political unrest in Iran the Shah and the Queen left the country and their leaving was followed by the return of Khomeini from exile and the formation of an Islamic government. Almost everybody’s name was in the government’s black list and many were trying to escape the country in one way or another. A lot of people including a few of my own relatives were arrested and then released after a few months.

It was a hot spring day in Tehran in the post revolution year of 1980. I was in the car with my children and when I turned on the radio to listen to the two o’clock news, to my horror, I heard that the Government has executed my aunt who was in prison for no reason other than being the Shah’s Minister of Education. She had already retired from her position seven years prior.

They did this on Women’s Day to teach all women a lesson. I was devastated and I could not stop crying while I was aimlessly driving around town in absolute disbelief and sorrow. My aunt whom I adored and was like a mother to me, was gone now and there was nothing I or anyone else could do.

My Aunt and My Mother in Their Young Age

It is documented that in that period of time more than 120,000 people including the Prime Minister, Cabinet Ministers and others were executed by firing squads without trial and due process and in violation of Human Rights standards.

A short time after the execution of my aunt by the Islamic government, my grandmother, who could not deal with her sorrow any more, died and soon after, I lost my mother to cancer while she was being treated for it in France.

On those days I could only think of one thing and had only one goal in mind and that was to leave the country, to find a job and to save my children.



To be continued…..