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IRAN: Tehran addict blues

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The man in the mustard-colored blazer had a new haircut. It shined in the morning light as he stood near a strange, vulnerable collection of guys at the edge of a park, where murals of ayatollahs and martyrs floated above rooftops and gardeners lugged hoses to the sound of water fisch-fisch-fisching over cold green grass.

They asked God for courage to change what could be changed and wisdom enough to know what couldn’t be undone. It seemed like a good prayer, and the man closed his eyes and joined in for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and tried to gather the part of himself that he had somehow lost years ago.

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‘I’m a lodger in a small room,’ Gholam Reza Akbarabadi said. ‘These men and I help each other. We talk about daily things -- like today, for example, I have temptation for alcohol and heroin. It’s hard. I overcome it by talking. I’ve been clean four months and 27 days.’

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—Jeffrey Fleishman in Tehran

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