We got to the train terminal (what's it called in English? station?) (The same one that they shot in Everything is Illuminated, yes that's L'vov) and we boarded the train. I remember being in the suite (is that how you say it?) with mama and grandma and the three of us hysterically crying and my dad running in with a grin and yelling at us for crying. As the train moved, the crowd of familiar and strange faces just burst into "proschay lubimiy gorod," a song which has made me cry since the day I realized we'd be leaving my beloved L'vov.
We got to Moscow and there things got blurry. I remember being afraid of wearing my gold earrings since they may rip them off with my ear and later (after passing security) telling my mom I could've put "all the gold" in my pockets since they didn't check me. The "gold" is probably worth $500, if that. I remember them searching us like we were trying to smuggle worldly possessions out of what was no longer the USSR. A bag with coins (specifically collected for calls) somehow fell into one of our huge bags and they had to completely unpack it (read: dishevel it). A suitcase which was specifically sent by my sister from the US to meet the size requirements, didn't and we were fined $100. That $100 is probably the equivalent of $10,000 or maybe even $100,000 for us today. Unlike many people, we didn't sell our apartment, because there was yet no privatization in L'vov. On the contrary, we had to pay them to leave two beautiful apartments, one at the city center and ours with complete capital improvements (and now, without parquet floors). We didn't have gold or money - we came with sheets and towels and pots and pans that can probably last us another 17 years.
Somehow, we finally passed security and boarded the chartered plane heading to NY. Because of my grandmother's heart condition, the plane was full of old and sick people. During the flight, when my dad (who hasn't been on a plane since that journey) took me to walk around a bit, I saw things that have stayed so imprinted on my young mind that to this day they give me chills. There were beds suspended from the ceiling. And religious men in black hats (not a common sight in Ukraine) were praying. There were all kinds of crippled people. It was scary.
We landed. It was a sunny and beautiful New York morning. It was about 50-60 degrees (yesterday's weather but with sun instead of rain) and I remember thinking to myself, it must always be warm here. It seemed wondrous and wonderful. I was ecstatic to see my sister and couldn't stop hugging her! She looked great in her purplish/pink shirt with a black zipper and curly (then still dark) hair. I think she had flowers, or maybe balloons and my dad yelled at her for spending money. As Dyadya Monya drove us to Bensonhurst (we stayed with my uncle and grandma for 3 weeks) the ride on the Belt with the sun beaming and the water glistening seemed surreal, warm and wonderful. I've never since enjoyed that road like that again, having made the trip probably 1,000+ times. I had on rose-colored glasses of both childhood and innocence as well as the expectation of a better life for my family.
I'm glad we're here, but I don't know that it's a better life. I think I've blogged about it before, immigration was extremely difficult on our family. Hardship after hardship followed. Yes, good things happened too, but it's hard to concentrate on that, especially now. Шереметьево - JFK: 17 years ago today, the day my childhood ended. Now, starting the 18th without mama, 7 without grandma Mira and the 2nd without Zilpa. How I wish I could be on the Belt in my rose-colored glasses.
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