I was young when Katharine was in Tehran. Most of my knowledge about these adventures comes from letters she wrote to her sister Ruth and to her niece Bobbie (Ruth’s daughter and my mother). The entries that follow are transcribed from these letters, and are illustrated with slides she took during her travels.
This first letter (and most of those that follow) was written on an aerogramme, a thin, lightweight, sheet of paper that included prepaid postage and folded to make its own envelope. This was the least expensive way to send an air mail letter; aerogrammes could not include enclosures, so writers typically used every available bit of space to write on the single page.
Mid-August, 1967
Greetings—it is Saturday. I did write you a letter on Friday—early. But because it was Friday, there was no way to get it mailed. A regular letter has to be weighed. I finally this evening was able to borrow this one.
My plane was late getting out of Rome—an hour and a half. Sat with a most interesting Indian—a journalist by profession. He had been called home because of the sickness of his only child—a girl who was to be married within a month.
International flights to Tehran in 1967 would have come in to Mehrabad Interglobal Airport, which is now used only for domestic flights.
Photo: Katharine Boylan
I am now living in the new quarters—Jane Maddox from Wash. D.C. is my housemate. I am off-campus, kitty-corner across the street. It is a roomy apartment—pretty poor facilities, and little furniture. I’ve spent considerable time scrubbing; with the dust it soon needs it again. There is an entry hall—quite large—an L-shaped living room 23x27 squares of tile along the edges. Two bedrooms; a small, inconvenient kitchen; and a miserable bathroom setup. All the floors are tiled.
So far we’ve eaten lunch and dinner at the school. Until school starts we’ll have our noon meal there.
According to this article, Community School was established in the early 1900s in Hamadan, Western Iran, to serve the children of Presbyterian missionaries. In the 1930s it moved to Tehran; over time the mix of students moved away from missionary children to include more Iranians and other foreign students, including the children of American expatriates. Classes were taught primarily in English.
Community School Entrance | Katharine Boylan
Yesterday morning I wakened to sounds—first the raucous voice of crows or their first cousins. Then the hawkers. One had a donkey, with melons on its back. The garbage man comes by with a big wheelbarrow. There were many others, but most I could not tell by their trappings what they did. I learned later one was a mattress fluffer.
K captioned this slide “My first morning early—donkey loaded with melon.”
Photo: Katharine Boylan
Today we went to the super market by taxi. On the way I was shocked to see a man stoop down and wash his face in the gutter water—but more shocked to see a minute later a man drink the water. The water is used evidently to flush the gutter—women wash both clothes and pots and pans in it.
This afternoon we went by taxi to a big department store—bought two prints—one to hang, the other for a bedspread.
Don’t know about my assignment yet. Things are still pretty much disorganized. Things must have been in a pretty sorry mess, and it will take some time to get organized.
This article explains that “in 1967 there was some tension in the school; the population was about half Iranian and mostly non-Christian. Although the school atmosphere was open and tolerant, the Presbyterian missionary board thought the school was straying from its charter…emotions flared up.” Apparently the headmaster and one of the board members left to found another school, and the board hired a new headmaster. This split apparently caused many hurt feelings and lasting grudges.
The driving here is beyond belief—no lanes—evidently no rules. I think I wouldn’t even want to drive.
Think there are 13 new people here—one of my vintage, a volunteer, house mother—Margaret Myers—from Kentucky. She went shopping with us today. More of the others later.
It is hot. Darkness comes early—and so does the light.
Church is at 8:00 a.m. in the summer—but we have to leave about 7:30 to get a taxi.
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In this building there are three apartments—Dennis and Sue Overman on 3rd, Jane & I on second—the Magaws (still on vacation) on first.
My hand sticks to the paper with the heat. The light (a bare bulb) doesn’t help.
In some ways I can’t believe I’ve been here so short a time. There are so many new sights and sounds. For instance—last night we went to see the apartment of one of the young couples. From their roof we looked down into a living room. The Persian rug of a brilliant, beautiful red. The tablecloth was spread on it—the family sat on the floor around it.
Enough—I love you—from way over on this side of the world.
Katharine
Thurs. am.—early.
Approx. date August 24, 1967
It gets light so early—it is easy to get up. Your letter, which I was so glad to get, came on Monday. That and a card from one of the girls at Drew is the extent of my mail.
We are just about moved. I believe that the disadvantages will be outdone by the pluses. Being on the compound there we’ll be much more seeing of people—and that is good.
She apparently moved from the apartment across the street to the teacher’s residence on the school compound—she had 2 roommates in her apartment there. Here’s her picture of the residence.
Photo: Katharine Boylan
Here are several other pictures she took around the compound.
Community School | Katharine Boylan
Principal’s Residence | Katharine Boylan
Principal’s Car | Katharine Boylan
School Buses | Katharine Boylan
For example last evening—besides the three of us we had five others here to share a melon I had bought. It was another Lollabee’ (one spells phonetically.)
I found that “lolabī (لولبی)” is a regional Persian name for a long, oval-shaped melon (and also for certain types of canteloupe and muskmelon).
One was Jim Henderson who had just arrived and was invited. Sue & Dennis who used our apartment to change clothes for swimming—and Carol & Carl Wilson who just dropped by. People just don’t “just drop by” off the compound.
This afternoon we have language again—classes this a.m. Only “mad dogs and Englishmen” go out in the heat of the day. It is interesting—last year’s 1st grade teacher came yesterday—that makes 5. Who knows what I shall teach! This is all about me!
I do love you. Katharine
I hope you’veenjoyed this installment of K’s travels. Next week we’ll continue her adventures in Tehran.
