When we went out I expected to see women in scarves with covered bodies. I was used to see them that way in Iran. Instead I saw women in tank tops and short skirts. Why do these women have these rights and the women in Iran don’t? What makes them different? No one tells them how to dress. They don’t need to wear makeup because they can make themselves pretty with their different clothing styles. The women in Iran have required themselves to fix their faces with makeup in the best way possible. Their face is the only open space where beauty is not hidden. The only place where their secrets, their story, and their dreams are somewhat found.
It is 1:15 A.M. Thursday. Two more hours and I will leave Tehran.
My close cousin cried and I cried with her. My other cousins came to say good-bye. It was the hardest night for me. My mom’s aunt told my sister, ” Think of it as a dream. You just had a dream that your sister came back.”
I’m very sleepy but I have to stay awake.
5:16 A.M, waiting for the plane to Amsterdam.
I held my tears but the last minute they poured down. I held them in again and now I can’t wait to pour them all out. My eyes are very watery.
I’m in the plane. I read my cousin’s letter and cried. It was the saddest yet the sweetest letter.
10:45 A.M. I was mostly sleep during this flight. I can’t wait to see my oldest brother.
I feel as though I’m still in Iran. My return the second time was the best but its good-bye was the hardest from all my other trips.