I was walking through a crowded bazaar in Iran. What was I doing in Iran again? – I wanted to leave. Nevertheless, I was intrigued by the jumble of people and movement around me. I especially enjoyed hearing the Persian language again – I had forgotten the sound. I was even able to understand a few words; I wouldn't need to be here long before I could pick up the language again. But Iran made me so uneasy; I needed to get out. The exit gate was at the end of the little street I was walking; with a throng of other people, I headed toward the gate and the guards posted around it. My principal concern now was a cassette which I had in my back pocket. The cassette contained some harmless recording, but the Iranians were so strict, they might find something wrong with the cassette and detain me. As I passed by a trash can, I furtively slipped the cassette, which was in its plastic box, from my pocket and pushed it into the trash can. Had anyone seen me? Were spies watching? I continued toward the gate, anticipating the worst. But the guards were simply waiving people through without even checking them. I marched straight through the gate. As soon as I stepped onto the other side a surge of joy passed through me: freedom!