Kathy to Hilary, October 4, 1971, Tehran, Iran October 4, 1971
Dear Hilary,
Here it is, fall already. The weather is cool, but it hasn’t rained. It should soon, though. I’ve been going to my new school for a month, and I think everything is straightened out. I take German, History, Lunch (at 10:30!), Math (using a book from England), Biology, English, Persian and Spanish. Plus gym twice a week, using a minimum of exertion. I work so hard I feel very dull even though there are so many sorts of people at the school: Greeks, Swedes, Dutch, Israelis, Egyptians, Japanese, Indonesians, Americans, Germans, English, Indians, Thais, and Iranians enough to suit anyone’s taste.
Iranzamin 
The first day of school was a big hassle because I didn’t know it was the first day until a girl called me wondering where I was. Well, I’ve more or less settled into life at Iranzamin, although I don’t really have any friends only acquaintances so far. The ratio of boys to girls is something like 3 to 10--more boys than girls--not that I care, of course. The boys here are so concerned with being Rare, Precious, and Beautiful that you can’t get near them. Americans are touched with this syndrome, all 8 of us. We tend to be clique-ish, with the 3 Canadians as well. I’ve been adopted by the large Jewish sector as an honorary Israeli, I don’t exactly know why.
My horseback riding is going nicely. (I bet you can hardly read this writing on the back of this paper [onion skin]). But I can only go riding twice a week, and I’m beginning to get sick of trotting in circles. I hope they let me canter soon.
Are we still friends? Because I haven’t gotten any letters for such a long time. Here you’ve started at W&L and I haven’t heard anything about it. I don’t know...I keep thinking it’s what I did. I don’t regret it, though for all I know I may someday. Farzad and I still ARE, whatever you call our relationship, and it’s been almost two months. I’m trying to fight off domesticity and any long-range plans he may bring up. God, I’d hate to see myself as a Housewife with Runny nosed kids. Somehow 15 seems a little young to be worrying about that, but at least I’ve been forewarning myself for years. There are so many things as a girl I can’t do with my life--there are so few things that I’ve even been able to do. I would want to be a hermit more than anything or a nun. Really. As soon as I’ve done and seen all that there is to be done and seen then I’ll retire and think about it all. It’s nice to plan that, but I’ll probably HAVE to be like everyone else.
I don’t know what it’s chic to feel like in the States now. We should be back there by June at the soonest. My father has to go to Vietnam again or retire. Anyone in their right mind would retire. You never know about fathers, though. If we do go back I don’t know where, to Louisiana or Oklahoma maybe. God knows. Steve and I have cast our votes for northern California, Oregon, or Washington, somewhere where it RAINS a lot. Dad’s talking about going to the University of Arizona to get his Ph.D. I’m not sure I want to go to college. Sure I can glory in Shelley and all sorts of English Lit and history, astronomy and my other passions, but what will I do with them if I’m a hermit? Living on a mountain top with only the clouds for company?
Bucket’s at that bratty stage exactly.
More later.
5:52:53 AM 
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