Lovely story!

Years ago in the military I had temporary duty as an instructor at the navy's basic electricity school in San Diego. It was an advance at your own pace type of school with a constant flow of students who stayed for a few weeks, learned their stuff, and left. I remember at the time that every Iranian who came through, all of them, were open-eyed, engaged, eager to learn, and spoke English quite well, as opposed to nearly all the Saudis (suspicious and closed, maybe even fearful, amplified by difficulty communicating), and a lot the Americans as well! (Impatient, disinterested, dull)

A couple years later I was back in SD. The Iranian Revolution had occurred. Hostages were still in the American Embassy.

A good friend lived off base. The apartment next to him housed four of five young Iranian men. All were in the Iranian military. All didn’t know their status, how they would be received at home, or even when, how or if they would ever get home! Caught in SD when the revolution came they'd been holed-up in their apartment for months. Afraid not just for themselves but their families in Iran.

I so much felt for those guys. They didn’t even want to leave their apartment for fear of showing their faces. We played chess. They always beat me. My buddy and his girlfriend used to buy them cigarettes and go shopping for them. But there was little we could do.

Ever since, I’ve always felt that the citizens of Iran and the US are like would-be great friends kept apart by parents who hate each other.

Take care, thanks so much for the read!