Manijeh Badiozamani

We are juniors at the prestigious, all female secondary school, Anoushirvan Dadgar High School in Tehran. As upper classmates, we are considered mature and enjoy a relaxed relationship with our teachers and the administrators.

The new assistant principal in charge of attendance and discipline for the junior and senior classes is a middle-aged woman whose personality is the total opposite of Banu Khanoom who made us tremble in our boots when we heard her voice! Yes, Banu Khanoom with her usual stern face and thin tight lips is still firmly planted in her office on the first floor and is in charge of discipline for lower classes. But we have already been molded into models of good behavior. It is the younger students who need to be whipped into shape. Our new assistant principal is friendly and lenient towards us. We all like her because she smiles often, and maintains good rapport with the senior and junior students.

A relative of my mother returns from the United States and brings back some interesting items as gifts. He has bought them at hobby shops around Halloween – though at the time, I know nothing about Halloween. These items are goofy large eyeballs, funny glasses with an attached plastic nose, and whoopee cushions. One item particularly interests me: a glob of brown plastic which realistically resembles human excrement. I ask if I could have the item – he smiles and graciously hands it over!

The next day, I hide the plastic “glob” in the pocket of my uniform and head for school. Arriving very early, I walk into our classroom, put the plastic excrement on the teacher’s chair, and walk away swiftly, closing the door behind me. We have a fixed classroom and the teachers rotate.

Students begin to arrive on the second floor. We usually stand around, talk and wait for the bell to ring before entering the classroom. The bell rings, and I make sure I’m the first one entering the class.

Casually, I pass by the teacher’s desk, let out a loud cry and hold my nose between my thumb and the index finger. Gasping for air, I point to the fake human feces on the teacher’s chair. All hell breaks loose. Girls are screaming and running out of the class, yelling for the janitor to come and open the windows. A few girls run to the office of the new assistant principal to notify her of the “huge mess” in our class. Some with overactive imagination also report having seen a puddle of “pee” around the feces.

The janitor, an old and slightly bent man slowly opens the door to our classroom, while thirty of us gather in the hall right behind him. Holding a small broom in one hand and a bucket in the other, the old man cautiously kicks the door open, as if there is a beast in there waiting to jump out. As soon as the old man steps one foot into the class, he withdraws his body immediately and properly faints. It is only for a few seconds, because he gasps for air and says the odor has overwhelmed him.

Imaginations are running wild, the speculation on “who done it” are flying around. The names of a few unpopular girls in the lower grades are mentioned as possible suspects. The commotion is getting out of control. With the help of some girls, the janitor is slowly getting up on his feet.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the new assistant principal getting out of her office – located down the hall on the same floor. She is heading towards us.

Amidst all that confusion, I slip into the classroom, grab the plastic “glob,” put it back into my pocket and slip away. A few girls are walking and chatting with the assistant principal, informing her of all the details which grows larger by the seconds.

She and the janitor walk together into the classroom. The “brown glob” is gone and the teacher’s chair is clean. By this time, it is mass hysteria! Some firmly believe the unpopular student who had committed this despicable act has seized the moment and cleaned up her mess.

I can no longer wait and truly do not want anybody to get into trouble. I walk over to the assistant principal extend my right arm with the fake “brown feces” smack in the middle of my palm. There is a moment of absolute silence. She gazes at it for a few seconds and then slowly touches it with the tip of her index finger – still not believing it is actually made of plastic! Finally, she takes it out of my hand. All the girls are watching her face intently for a clue as to how to react.
With her spectacles on the tip of her nose, she peers over this fake realistic replica of human excrement. A moment of silence that seems like eternity to me is broken by her exclamation: “Holy....! This is incredible!” and then she lets out a loud laugh.

I don’t get into trouble, but she does ask me if she can borrow “the glob” for a couple of days!