Kathy to Hilary, February 14, 1973 cont., Tehran, Iran For Anthropology, during Now Ruz, the teacher and I are going to look into some tribes for us to study, and then in the summer we all go and live with them. I doubt we actually will, for the teacher is about as good as dreaming up projects and then not doing them as I am. If should prove to be fun and exciting if we ever go. We hope to see either the Turcoman on the beginning of the steppes or the Qashgai near Shiraz.
Qashqai woman. 
After we do all this we have to write two term papers on our “experience” and supposedly should be practically guaranteed in passing the bacc. because we would have done such a cool independent project. I’m supposed to take the Biology, Spanish, and English exams this year--Biology and English I know I can pass, but Spanish will be hopeless. It isn’t that my Spanish is BAD, but there are some novels I have to read and they probably aren’t in existence anywhere closer than 1,000 miles away--more probably.
Steve broke his arm and has some secret bone disease that I’m not supposed to tell my mother about--in a month they’ll take a bone tap in Germany, but they can’t now because he has a cast on. He just threw a snowball and his bone snapped. I think he doesn’t get enough calcium because all he drinks is cokes, but the doctor says he may have some sort of fibrosis. This cannot get back to my mother as we don’t want her to have any fits besides the ones she is already having. They can’t know anything until after the test, so there’s no point getting worked up about it. It’s hell around here, as you may guess, what with paranoid mothers and spoiled bratlets. But I won’t have to endure it much longer.
I haven’t done much exciting these days, so I really don’t have much to say. Or much time to say it in. Write more extensively sometime about your plans!
Love,
Kat
5:13:43 AM 
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