Revolutionary Traffic

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“Ayatollah Sadr is locked,” the driver tells me referring to the highway we have to take to get to our destination. “The ayatollahs are bad,” he says, “otherwise they wouldn’t be so filled with traffic.” He laughs at his own joke. “How unlucky we have become at the hands of the mullahs! And that leader of Lebanon, that bearded guy, Nasrallah, he will show the people of Lebanon how unlucky they can be too. All of them celebrating victory! What victory? Half of Beirut is gone and the mullahs are powerful in Lebanon too.”

The driver looks over at the Mercedes next to us being driven by a hip young thing bobbing his head to Iranian pop. “The children of the revolution,” he says pointing to the young man. “Look at them. They have not worked a day in their lives. We have so much traffic because the only thing they do all day is drive around. They are without work. I work all day. I leave my home in Karaj at six in the morning and come home at midnight. My family is sleeping when I get home and sleeping when I leave. I have a 6o meter home and two daughters in college. I have to pay their tuition, pay for their books, pay for the water and the electricity. At the beginning of the revolution, the mullahs told us that our electricity would be free. They told us that our water would be free. They told us that our benzene would be free. Now I get my water and electric bill, and I just cry. Every month my payments are higher, but my salary stays the same.”

I commiserate a bit.

“Now Ahmadinejad is telling us to have more children. Is he crazy? How can anyone afford more children? There was a time when Iranian families could be big, but that time is over. Where will we put them? Who will pay for them? Who will educate them?”