Upon leaving the mosque, it was nearing office hours and I was planning to meet with Captain at 930am to head over to the Physical Education Organization (PEO). For those just tuning in, we were sponsored by this government organization to run the length of Iran nearly 3 years ago when were suddenly stopped a few days in. We never knew exactly why. Mr. Saydonlu, the Cultural Director, was given orders to make the run happen. I was planning to meet with him to check the status of Tyler’s athletic visa and finalize when it will be processed. He was expecting me this week. When we spoke 2 months back, he had said we would “definetely be running by March 20th 100%.” I had trouble dialing through to his office in the morning as the others passed out sleeping. I was losing focus from lack of sleep and being lagged from the metal bird journeys.

I took a moment to reassess and finally decided to pop in volume one of the DVD Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law, the defender of cartoons in legal trouble. But before I was comfortably in Harvey’s world, I managed to get a ring on Saydonlu’s office line (attempt 64). The woman on the other end hung up on me twice after I mentioned my name. I then woke up Captain, and he said he’s on point for a1030am arrival at the PEO. “ That lines always busy. Just keep trying. See you at 10am” We were planning to drive over in my father’s jeep.

On the drive over, Captain’s wife’s car broke down nearby while she was transporting several pounds of uncooked chicken hearts, liver, and breasts to the small market shack they both operate. (Captain is an Olympic qualified wrestler, our security guard/coordinator on the last run attempt, and owner/operator of Wrestling clubs and more recently two small shacks that sells meats, poultry, and sausage links.) We met his wife on a busy curvy alley ( reminiscent of Venice) and tried to revive the car as she smoked a Winston.

I checked the spark splugs, which is all I know to do really. A few minutes later, Captain had flagged down a mechanic off the street and we gave him a lift to his shop where he decided to take on the revival process. It was sunny with a gently breeze, winds NW at 9 and about 71 degrees F. I began helping move the several pounds of neatly packaged chicken hearts and breasts into my Dad’s jeep. The cartoon chicken on the cover of the packaging reminded me that everything’s going to be ok; the chickens arms were extended and lept in a seizured ecstacy, sweat dripping from forehead, chicken smiling. I then stopped to ponder if chickens actually have arms. At this point, I had probably slept a total of 6 intermittent hours in the last 72 hours.

Upon meat transfer, we began driving to the PEO. Dense traffic, as I attempted to get through to Saydonlu’s office. When the reception answered, I abruptly handed the phone to Captain’s wife, and had her ask for Saydonlu. “She says he’s not in today. But then she put me on hold. Let’s see.” A minute later: “She say’s he’s really busy and can’t see anyone else today.”

‘I thought you said he’s not there”

“She hung up on me before I inquired about that. Strange.” Captain then intercepted, “Look, this guys been wasting all our time. We can go there, and we probably won’t get in. Or we can focus on the other channels.”

Last month, I had a long conversation with Captain about his relationship with the Foreign Minister Mottaki through his wife brother, who happens to be related to him. “Look, I can arrange a meeting where we can meet with his wife and try to get Tyler in through his channel.” I said ok, lets do it when I get to Iran.

Traffic worsened. Their was uncooked meat in the back and lots of it. I didn’t want to abandon seeing Saydonlu, but with two levels of security to pass without him knowing I’m coming in I knew it would be difficult. I insisted we go anyway.

Captain pulled up to the massive gate at the PEO entrance” “Go see if you can get through those guys. Good luck” (pointing at two security guards).