Iran, 1964
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Finally, our father, whom we called agha joon, “dear master,” had promised to take us on our dream vacation. The night before we left, my sister, Simin, and I stayed up till dawn. She had a book with a foldout map of Iran. She brought the book to bed, and we marked our trip in red. We would cross almost the entire length of Iran: from Boshehr, a city near the Persian Gulf in the south, to the Caspian Sea in the north, the world’s largest saltwater lake. A lake so big they called it a sea.