In May 1944, our supplies were nearly depleted; for this reason, my father decided to send me north again to buy rice and provisions. We had to do this before summer because, during the warm season, the coastal areas of Mazandaran were heavily affected by malaria, and the humidity was also very high; the locals would spend their summers in the mountains. We decided to take the packhorse trails to the villages located above the forests and highlands and buy rice and wheat from there.
Accompanied by one of our close family members, who had two mules, and myself with three donkeys, we set off. Above Dorvan, there are two high peaks named Kahar and Naz; we headed north from the top of Kahar. Our fellow villager was very pleasant and good company; wherever we found a spring and some greenery, he would say in the local language, “Drop the load,” meaning, “Let’s set our load down and stay here for the night.” He knew the way well; most Dorvan residents did, as they often went north in the summers to buy charcoal and then sold it in Tehran during the winter. On that route, we had to cross over Talaghan from above; we passed through a forest and descended; the path was very dangerous and rocky; after crossing a river, we faced another forest, passed through it, and climbed again. There, at that altitude, was a very large cowshed with about a hundred cows owned by a lady.
My companion knew her and had brought some sugar and tea for her; she hosted us well, serving us with her special butter, warm bread, and so on. We had lunch there and then moved on; in the evening, we reached a spring, unloaded our packs, and stayed the night there. After several days and nights, we reached a village in the highlands of Tonkabon; many people from the coastal area had come there, bringing with them a large amount of rice and wheat. I had brought some soap, which turned out to be quite needed since they were in the highlands with limited access; they bought the soaps at a good price. After making our purchases, we loaded our pack and returned to Dorvan through the same mountainous packhorse trail. We used the provisions we brought back sparingly; the country’s situation was gradually improving. During those years of crisis and hardship, our life was average and ordinary; although my father had a large family and the expenses for ten households were significant, we didn’t face many problems, worked hard, and managed our affairs.