Be that as it may, the village is rather quiet today. Its inhabitants are either in Tehran, Arak, or abroad. Presently, only forty families reside here. But it comes back to life during holidays and celebrations when everyone returns.

I find our way to the orchards and the 1500-year old walnut tree known as the Tree of Anoushirvan. I meet one of the villagers along the way and ask him the reason for the high number of trained physicians who have emerged from this village. He tells me some things are inherited and some things are seen. People looked at one another and followed in each other’s footsteps to educate themselves. Of course, the effect of walnuts and almonds must also not be ignored. As kids, we always had pockets full of walnuts and almonds and ate those instead of sweets.

One of the villagers is a retired rear-admiral who did not turn to medicine for his love of mathematics. He tells us: “I think the talent comes from walnuts too! I always eat a handful of walnuts with breakfast every morning.”

We reach the legendary walnut tree at the end of the road. According to the locals, it was planted here by the great Persian king, Anoushirvan Sassanid. I pick a couple of walnuts, sit under the tree, and begin eating them in silence while thinking about the villagers with the astringent taste of walnuts in my mouth. This village is also the birthplace of Professor Ardeshir Ghavamzadeh, the father of Iran’s bone marrow transplant. Truly, in this heavenly environment with such fresh live foods, why would all its inhabitants interested in educating themselves not all become doctors and engineers?