Читать книгу My 20+ Years In America - Tatiana Shymanova - Страница 13

Tonya got off the bus at the Kiev train station and looked around for a free bench where she could finally rest peacefully. She was exhausted from being on her feet all day, standing in line waiting at the American embassy and then again on the bus, which was filled to capacity with travelers.

This was the third time she had come to Kiev to try to purchase tickets to America. Tonya had barely scraped together enough money for two round-trip tickets. She had enough for herself and for her younger son, Vlad, who was 15 years old. She desperately wanted to bring her 19-year-old son, Dan, along as well, but his ticket would have been impossible to pay for. The price of the tickets was raised on a daily basis, often just as Tonya arrived at the station. Each time she would call in advance before she left for Kiev to inquire about the price of the tickets, but she was always given one price over the phone and a different price once she reached the station. Every time this happened, she was forced to return home in order to borrow additional money for the trip.

After this scenario had occurred twice, Tonya was about to admit defeat and return home when she miraculously met a teller who was willing to make a deal with her. The teller studied Tonya intently, wondering if she could trust her to deliver a letter. Her eyes bore the tired look of perseverance and desperation, but there was an immediate recognition of genuine kindness. She ultimately decided that Tonya was trustworthy, and they decided to help each other. The teller agreed that she would keep the ticket price the same for Tonya if Tonya would in return drop off a letter for her to a marriage agency in the United States.

When Tonya returned to Kiev for the third time, she now had enough money to purchase her tickets. Just as the teller had promised, the ticket price had remained the same. Tonya breathed a sigh of relief as she completed the transaction and studied the two ordinary-looking tickets that had been given to her. When traveling to America, citizens of the former Soviet Union were required to purchase a round-trip ticket to ensure that they would eventually return to their country of origin, but as Tonya studied the intricately printed wording, she thought of her own plans.

Finally, Tonya spotted a light post with a large concrete slab and hurried there to rest herself. She felt as if all of the tension that she had been crippled with for the last week had been taken off of her. Not far from the entrance to the train station, a wind ensemble played pop music from the 1970s. It was so cheerful and energetic that the contrast between the sounds of the music and the players’ surroundings was ironic.

Next to the sidewalks, beggars begged for anything that you could give them, food or money. The pavilion was constructed simply, and underneath it vendors sold many items, from secondhand shoes to homemade clothes. There were also shirts, jackets, hats, and any other item that a person might need. Pedestrians walked around with troubled expressions on their faces, some with frustration, and others with hopelessness and emptiness. Most of them were wearing clothing that was ready to be thrown out. With “perestroika” even the streets in the town were neglected. The sidewalks were filled with papers and trash. Inside the train station cashier window, cockroaches roamed freely. Some of the people standing in line told Tonya that at night one could see rats jumping from the wall.

While Tonya was taking this all in, one musician in the band met her eyes and smiled, winking at her as if to say, “Keep your head up.”

Tonya was crying as she took in the people around her. She was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. She felt happiness that she finally possessed two tickets to America, but she felt sadness and love for all those around her, just strangers, but still close to her heart. She felt so much connection with them, her countrymen and countrywomen. The scene of the band against these surroundings reminded her of a painting, “Feast during Plague.”

Tonya also felt fear for what she had done with her travel passport. The visa for Vlad had been denied. Tonya had swallowed her pride and spoken to a consulate member, begging for an approved visa for her son. She told him her life story through her tears, in hopes that he might have some compassion for her situation. She explained to him that she was not leaving the country for her sake, but for the sake of her two children. Although Daniel was not traveling to America as well, Tonya was confident that by being in the “land of freedom,” she would swiftly bring Daniel over; besides, the task of paying back his mother and brother’s tickets fell upon his shoulders.

The consulate member confided to her that he was powerless to do anything. He told her, “You cannot imagine how much money the Ukrainian government pays to the consulate to purposely deny visas to young citizens. The government does not want anyone to leave the country. They consider children to be their future.” Then he looked at Tonya attentively and said, “I remember one case similar to yours when the consulate mistakenly didn’t mark the travel passport as ‘Denied.’ When the family arrived in America, they simply let them go through because the mistake wasn’t their fault.”

Tonya’s ultimate decision was to alter her visa. She did it on the street, just after she walked out of the embassy. She did it quickly because she was afraid that she would have second thoughts and change her mind. She was afraid that her current bravery would fail her, so she acted with haste. It was easier than she imagined it would be. She only had to erase a simple cross mark that denoted who would accompany her on the trip, but she was not sure that it would help her make it through the checkpoint before boarding the airplane. Should she tell her boys what she had done? She had too much on her mind, too much tension to let herself be relieved with tears…

When Tonya returned home, she told Vlad to get ready for a trip and to keep it a secret from everyone. She was anxious to see and talk to Dan, who was at his workplace. Dan had barely gotten over the threshold when Tonya ran over to him and asked him to help her with something in the cellar. He looked very tired and glanced at her with surprise, but she let him know that it was urgent. When they got to the cellar, Tonya told him about her trip to Kiev and about the changes that she had made to her passport. He appeared frustrated and did not know what to say, but his mother needed his approval to go ahead with her plan.

After a minute of silence he answered, “If it was your first instinct to do it and you did it, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

They both understood that there was no other option, no other chance, and decided to risk everything. Dan agreed with Tonya’s decision not to tell Vlad about the fraud. Vlad was always a very obedient child, and this knowledge would be too large a load to put on his shoulders.

Twelve days before their departure, Tonya wrote an absence note for one week to the school of music where she had worked as a piano teacher. She also let the counselor at Vlad’s school know that he would not be in school for a few days.

The train departed late in the evening on September 28, 1992. It was the 22nd anniversary of her sister’s death. Dan was helping to carry two suitcases that Tonya had prepared for the trip. There were sets of clothes for both warm and cold weather, a book with music, two forks, two spoons, one pot, two pillows, blankets, a couple of sheets and pillowcases. Besides those possessions, Tonya had only $150 in her wallet.

The train slowly arrived at the platform and then stopped. It was time for them to say their goodbyes.

Tonya hugged Dan and said, “Stay strong. Take care of yourself. I hope we will see you soon.”

Dan took Vlad by the elbow, guiding him away from Tonya, and whispered something in his ear.

“What are you whispering about?” asked Tonya.

“Nothing important,” answered Dan as he hugged Vlad.

They held each other for a long time, as if they had foreseen that they would not see one another again for many, many years…

After arriving at the airport, they discovered that they still had three hours before departure. A series of flashbacks brought Tonya to a different time in her life….

She was back at her high school graduation with her two closest girlfriends. The girls in the inseparable trio were the only ones crying from a sudden, instinctual understanding that the best part of their lives was coming to a close. Never again would they be able to spend so much time together; never again would they be so young and carefree….

She was crying and begging her mother to let her audition at a nearby college for music. When her mother finally relented, with her father’s intervention, Tonya left home with her mother’s final words ringing in her ears: “I hope you never pass the exams and get rejected.” Contrary to her mother’s “curse,” Tonya was accepted after a second interview of playing for an instructor, well before the entrance examinations, and with the instructor’s most sincere compliments.

The instructor, Ludmila Innokentievna Ivanova, had graduated from the Moscow Conservatory and proudly claimed herself the artistic granddaughter of Rimski-Korsakov. (Her teacher at the Moscow Conservatory was a direct pupil of Rimski-Korsakov). She therefore wanted her pupils to be proud of being the great-grandchildren of Rimski-Korsakov. Ludmila Innokentievna had been a second prize winner of the International Piano Competition in Warsaw as a sophomore at the Conservatory. Two years of studying with her gave Tonya the mastery of piano that would have otherwise cost others a lifetime of learning.

Tonya and the other students understood that they were lucky to have Ludmila Innokentievna as a teacher. It was no secret that a master such as Ludmila Innokentievna would not come to Siberia for any reason other than the fact that the salary was higher there than in any other part of the country. Teachers were thus able to improve their financial situations by going further north. Ludmila Innokentievna had the privilege to have as many students as she wanted; however, after a few months, the work took its toll on her. She had no patience for many of her students, and very often, in the middle of a session, students would hurriedly exit her classroom only to have a music book thrown after them into the hallway. It did not matter, as the students worshipped her, particularly Tonya, who was her favorite.

At the beginning of the school year, Ludmila Innokentievna gave a repertoire for every student to look over and familiarize himself or herself with; each student received one Sonata, one Etude and one Invention by J.S. Bach. Along with studying this repertoire, at the same time each student was obligated to fulfill two weeks of free labor in the agricultural field that they were sent to. At the end of the two weeks, Ludmila Innokentievna met with all her students and asked them how they liked their repertoires and if anyone knew them by heart. No one answered, but instead they smiled and looked around the class at each other. Ludmila Innokentievna then said, “All right, let us make a class schedule.”

Every student was required to have individual lessons with the teacher, and Ludmila Innokentievna had to fit two lessons per student a week for fifteen to sixteen students.

Tonya came to her first class shaking slightly; she was extremely worried about the quality of her playing. Nothing was as important to her existence as her studying piano and becoming an accomplished pianist. She wanted to look perfect for the occasion. She dressed in her favorite blouse and skirt. It was not new; however, it was immaculately clean and ironed. She was overwhelmed with her emotions like a girl on her first date with her beloved…

After knocking on the door at the exact start time of the class, she hesitantly stepped into the room.

“Come in, come in,” said Ludmila Innokentievna. Tonya took her music books from her bag, put them on the table and sat down at the piano.

“So, what pieces were you able to familiarize yourself with?” Ludmila Innokentievna asked.

“All of them” Tonya answered.

“Interesting. Well, what piece would you like to start with?”

“I don’t know – any.”

“So, let’s start with the Sonata,” said Ludmila Innokentievna, taking a music book from the table.

Tonya looked at her with surprise and said, “Do you want me to play by looking at the music?”

“What are you trying to tell me, that you know the Sonata by heart? And the rest of them?”

“Yes.”

“What modesty! Why didn’t you tell me this during the student’s meeting when I asked if someone knew their repertoire by heart?”

“I was sure that everyone knew theirs by heart.”

“Congratulations, then, you have the memory of an international piano competition winner.”

From that first class onward, Tonya received much more attention from her teacher than the rest of her classmates. Whenever Ludmila Innokentievna took a day off from teaching, she would call and invite Tonya over to her apartment for piano lessons. Sometimes she would give Tonya the keys to her apartment and allow her to go there while she taught at the college. This happened during the winter and greatly alleviated Tonya’s plight as a student from out of town. Students in her predicament only had the chance to practice at night, after classes were done for the day or early morning. Also, the temperature in the classrooms was so low that one could barely move a finger. A student could only play for ten to fifteen minutes before running to the stove to warm up.

The college was a truly ugly, wooden building with two wings that were poorly insulated. A few elderly women managed the upkeep of heating the classroom; the ancient round stove was heated with coal, and they would have to bring in heavy pails from outside twice a day, in the morning and afternoon. This was completely insufficient to warm the classrooms, and it was still always so cold.

In addition to the women’s daily heating chores, Tonya brought her own pails of coal during the day, and even after the coal was put in, two or three steps away from the stove it was still so cold that students were able to see their breath. Tonya sometimes wondered how her beloved teacher tolerated those two cold winters in Siberia. Most of the time during class, Ludmila Innokentievna stood next to the stove and justified her position by joking that she was “trying to prevent herself from becoming an icicle.”

For the most part, Tonya’s memories of college were masked by the intense Siberian cold. When it became intolerable and her body craved warmth, Tonya and her girlfriends would spend their last pennies to visit the beauty salon. That and the cafeteria were the two warmest places near the college, and the students flocked there most faithfully. Until they were caught and not allowed to enter the salon anymore, the girls would stand in line, as if waiting for their turn, but at the last minute before having to accept a service would pretend to check their watches and excuse themselves with being late for class. Although the cafeteria was also utilized as a place to warm up, it was impossible to spend as much time there because someone would undoubtedly stand behind those lucky enough to have finally gotten a seat and wait for their turn to eat and warm up.

Tonya lived in a single house without any modern conveniences. It had two adjoining rooms and a separate single room. She lived with four girls and two boys, three of the girls in the bigger room and two more in the adjoining room. The boys lived in the separate room by themselves. Tonya was the oldest at the time, 16 years old and straight out of high school. The others were fourteen years old, having had just finished the eighth grade. They were all from one town and from the same school of music. Tonya was the only pianist; two of the girls were violinists, the other two were choir masters and the boys were percussionists. Tonya’s house was cold as well, and in the winter, everyone took turns bringing water and coal from the barn into the house. There wasn’t really time to cook, and if someone was hungry, they would make tea and have either bread or a bun with the tea. A small convenience store was located right across the street, and the women who kept the store would often give away some food on credit. The students would pay the store back upon receiving their student stipend.

Tonya, however, never borrowed anything. She abided by her mother’s strict rule: “Live according to your means, and learn to make ends meet.”

Tonya never bothered with strict budgeting and often would find herself without money for two or three days. She preferred having a drink of water to borrowing money to be able to eat. It was not that big a deal to her, but simply a matter of temporary inconvenience. Actually, many students found themselves in the same circumstance and joked with one another by asking if one was “drinking or eating today.”