Continuation. Begins here
Already at the very beginning of our acquaintance, after a gathering in the kitchen, Igor Aronovich handed me at parting a weighty paper package. In the package there was an impressive grocery set cans with preserved vegetables, different cereals, bread, cheese, macaroni, even ice-cream.
For the question: why he spends so much money for purchase of products for me, Aronych with cunny glance answered that he does not spend for me any money, extracting provisions free of charge in food -bank. He also explained what it was.
In Seattle, which for a lot of years enters into the ten most provided, safe and cities of the United States, the assistance program for needy and jobless, in particular a chain of network of grocery stores, so-called food-banks operates.
Each product has its shelf life.When it comes to an end, there is a question: what to do with the goods that have not been bought?It is possible to reduce its price to a limit but if even in this case products remain not claimed, they do not throw out them; the goods are still quite suitable.
Here then it is sent to food-banks.Thus the shelf life should remain not less than two weeks.Only in Bellevue only there are more than ten foods banks.
Any passer-by cannot receive free products.For this purpose it is necessary to show the inquiry on a social status homeless, jobless, invalid or others.I presented the inquiry to the service of social assistance from the lawyer that I am in the territory of the United States in expectation of acknowledgement of my status from immigration service, but without the right to work, as I am considered unemployed, I have the right to food aid.
As my guarantors Igor Aronovich and his bosom friend, our general neighbour Lazar Markovich acted. Igorochek and Lazarochek so tenderly they named each other confirmed that I really had no job, but I had constant desire something to eat. That I work illegally, I, certainly, had not informed.
For the first time having crossed the threshold of the food-bank, I was amazed: what only was not in this temple of free meal bread of different grades, canned food from meat to vegetable, fish, cereals, pasta, vegetables, fruit, and even ice-cream in the big plastic bags counting of all assortment of products would take a lot of time.
In some food-banks there were even departments of free distribution of clothes for children.
Products were released by one packing per customer. But our cunny and wise former Soviet people which have got used to difficulties, here again applied their stored experience, placing in turn their relatives and acquaintances. As a result commandoes-parachutists left food-banks with backpacks and bags, filled products.
And here the most interesting thing began an exchange of the goods. As a rule, it took place on a platform behind food-bank where Vietnamese, having gathered fish, exchanged it for rice. Trading operations by time reminded the real theatrical representations.
Nehama Zaharovna differed with a special virtuosity. In the show which she displayed, the public always gathered. For such performances Nehama put on a corresponding uniform a dress with a low neckline. Fish was the basic object of her attention. Nehama Zaharovna really prepared amazingly tasty forshmak, and brought it as a gift for someone’s next birthday anniversary.
Skilled eye of Nehama chose a victim, bending over a squatting Vietnamese and, shaking before his nose a package with rice, began the auction. Together with a package, behind a deep low neck two huge, yet absolutely overripe melons waved. As a rule, the exchange session came to an end, practically without having begun.
The seller, without tearing off a sight from this miracle of nature looming before it in such inconceivable distance, at first opened the mouth wide, then approximated eyes, then in general left for other worlds.
And when came back to the earth he saw on it a package with rice, lacking steams of big fishes, and in the distance a voluminous stern of the charming customer shaken here and there.
But, it happened that charms of Nehama did not work, and then she resorted to other means caught the dealer gradually.
How many fishes do you give for rice? She asked elderly and, probably, the Vietnamese indifferent to female delights. She asked in Russian, but the question was clear and without explanation. The seller exposed one finger for each hand supposedly one fish one package of rice.
What, have you gone crazy?! Zaharovna was indignant. One small fish for a package of remarkable rice? Give two fishes! she would show two fingers.
The Vietnamese negatively swung his head.
Well, what for do you need so many fish? Fish will become rotten tomorrow, and no rice , Nehama softened her tone.
The Vietnamese started something to explain for her. Zaharova nodded her head in agreement, as if she understood everything, and there and then again began to admonish:
You correctly tell all, I with you I completely agree, but how you without rice will live?Your wife will cry, children will cry that you except fish cannot give them anything.
Here you will come home without rice, your wife will flog you with this fish.Let’s, one rice, one fish, she passed to the Asian language, probably considering that it is more accessible to the Vietnamese to understanding.
She changed still negatively swinging her head and again exposed the price list from two fingers.Then Zaharovna twisted, and thrust to it under nose a figure from three fingers.
Possibly having decided that she asks already three fishes, the Vietnamese obstinately swung a head.But with it the auction did not come to an end.Nehama lifted one of fishes by its tail, brought to her nose and frowned with disgust.
The Vietnamese chose fish shaken before his nose returned it into place and with an unperturbable kind looked aside.
No, you look, what a boneheaded one we have here, Nehama addressed to the gathered and smiling public. Well, ok, we have seen many such jacks, she winked at spectators, and, having made a touching grimace, a tender voice cooed:
Listen, don’t you know that rice is your national meal.This is your national property.This is all for you.How you can refuse it?
Without fish you will live, and here without rice you will not live long, she made a mournful face, made a helpless gesture and sadly swung her head as if to the poor Vietnamese really it is necessary to live very little.
Whether he was bothered with sticking of this importunate woman, whether he caught in her voice something disturbing, but the Vietnamese put two big fishes into her bag, took away a package with rice and moved to other site. Nehama Zaharovna victoriously grinned, saying, you see, and went to search for the following victim of barter.
Once having seen me in the company of “commandoes”, Inna with astonishment asked: don’t you receive food stamps? .I did not know what it was and negatively nodded my head.
Well as!?Did not you lawyer explain you that, being in the territory of the country legally, in expectation of the status, you, under the law, have the right to apply for the centre of social help, so-called Welfare, for the medical insurance and food stamps?.
Anything about it he has not told. It is strange. He was obliged to do it. Food stamps are grocery cards. By them you can buy products in shops.
The next day I went to Welfare and, without departing from cash desk, received the free medical insurance, and also food stamps.It is such book, like a notebook, with tear-off leaflets, on each of which there is a price one dollar, three, five etc.
you take products, hand to the seller a book, and she tears off so many coupons, how many it is necessary.In a month one book.
I will not tell that food stamps presume to arrange a feast every day for your soul and stomach but that will not allow to die from hunger, that is exact. Nevertheless, I any time continued to make sorties to food banks. I already had got used to them.
At the same time I decided to use the free medical insurance, and to try to repair my not hearing right ear. Together with the woman-translator we went to the medical centre, and on road she with might and main praised highly diagnosticians of the clinic, capable to work wonders, recovering patients practically at all lost health.
She gave special attention to otolaryngologist, having informed that before he worked as the doctor by the ships of Navy fleet of the USA. Than he could help my ears, I and did not understood. Probably, she wanted to give me a hope of healing, or the doctor simply was pleasant to the translator.
A small stocky Japanese appeared to be an ear doctor.The translator explained what for we came.He nodded his head, and suggested to pass into the next room.
There was a wide table covered with any buttons, bulbs and levers.The premise was divided with a thick glass at which sat the assistant to the doctor.
The expert in auricles somewhere left.
The assistant warned me that now she will move levers and when I will hear a sound, I should give her a signal.At first she drilled the left ear, doing any marks.
But with everything was all right with it and then the turn of the right eardrum came.The assistant lead up a lever upwards practically against the stop, glancing at me, but I negatively swung my head.
I heard hardly distinguishable peep though in my ear drove such decibels that the membrane by all means should burst.
Having stopped to torment my ears, the assistant somewhere left, carrying away results of torture. In half an hour there was a Japanese otolaryngologist. As in the Navy fleet, he accurately and categorically reported: the membrane of the right ear does not work.
Is it!I without him knew it.Whether it was necessary to apply electronics to confirm the diagnosis put to me almost half a century ago in Moscow by the woman-doctor which simply glanced in an ear?
I asked: whether it is possible to perform operation?The expert in repairing of eardrums shrugged shoulders and answered that is possible, but it will give nothing the ear all the same will not hear.
It turned as military naval and left.
From time to time the American telephone companies raise tariffs for the services.It is necessary to give them due, they warn in advance subscribers about the preparing action.
Once I was called from the company which I chosen couple of years back, and whose service quite arranged me.The voice on that end informed that the company lifts quotations that I had the right to refuse their services and to choose other operator at own discretion.
The list of the companies was applied.
I called some addresses, and one of the offers interested me- the prices for services were quite comprehensible.I chose the Russian-speaking operator, pressed the button, and heard a pleasant female voice in a tube: Hello, I listen to you.
We are glad that you chose our company.Tell, please, in what countries or cities you will call more often, and we will give discounts for services.I told that there will be calls to Turkmenistan more often.
Such dialogue further followed:
Oh, and are you from Ashkhabad?
From Ashkhabad.
And I am from Kum-Dag. And do you know Volodya Rylovnikov?
Yes, we studied together at university.
And I with his sister Lenka studied in one class. Oh, how fine it is! Well, I wish you all the good, good-bye.
After a while I had to visit a polyclinic in which the Russian-speaking doctor worked. We got to talking. He asked, whence I arrived and, having learnt that I am the native of Ashkhabad, pensively begun to smile.
I decided that he, probably, confused my native city with any another, having the similar name as it is done by people badly familiar with geography, but the doctor nodded his head and told: Yes, Ashkhabad, Ashkhabad… I worked nine years in the State Planning Committee.
A lot of time passed since then, but I remember till now the First park, swimming pool, the cinema Ashkhabad, Sports Lake, walks on the night city, trips to Firyuza, Chuli, campaigns in mountains.
Happy, good there was time.I cannot forget it.
Really, small is the world.
Places where I was offered a job, were enough far from apartments, and a car was necessary for me. How many times it is possible to ask your acquaintances to lend their cars for while? Besides I already managed to save up some sum for purchase, let it be a jalopy but that one could be on the move.
To buy a second-hand car not a problem, one can find them everywhere. All is its cost. On instalments anybody from sellers will agree pay at once. And here on a scene the kind angel again fluttered out. More truly, not on a scene, and in the kitchen in image of the same Igor Aronovich.
Having looked through pages of the serious book in a glass cover, we had a snack sandwiches with food bank cheese, and I depicted to the old man a situation. He wetted his lips: let’s drive to the shop for one book, and I while will think up something.
When I returned, in the kitchen a new visitor sat Leva Bobman. It was a stocky, round man as a keg of uncertain age, with cunning running eyes, with dense curly haired head in which he continually started a wide hand. Leva lived in the next building, and was the indispensable participant of all Jewish gathering.
What he was busy with knew nobody, his official income welfare payment, but said that he was crapping the crappers as he regularly leaves for Israel, Russia, still somewhere.
They had already finished the first book, and we uncorked the second.
Well, Levushka, we will help the young man, tenderly looking either at me or at Bobman, Igor Aronovich asked. advise, what car to buy, where, and, the main thing, inexpensive.
Certainly, we will help, Leva answered, having a snack a crackling marinated cucumber. And in what limits inexpensive? How much you have to spend?
Levushka, the more cheaply, the better.
Igoresha, it is not matter. What means more cheaply? More cheaply than what? Let the young man names the concrete sum which he can spend for vehicle acquisition. Let will tell, what is necessary to it mark, names colour, the size, character, habits, predilections …
Colour, mark, the size have no value, I said, at last. The main thing that it should work and would not break in couple of days, well and that the price was no more than three hundred dollars.
Then, the young man, a bicycle will fit you very much. And that one is second-hand.
Levushka … were reproachfully said by Igor Aronovich, the person has got a trouble, and you scoff. It is not good.
Yes I joke, Leva smiled.We will find a car for him.There is one that I know.A good car . “Chevrolet Celebrity”.The salon is big, six-seater, a car radio and record cassette player, a metal case, four cylinders … Not new, but in a full order, runs as a young deer.
And the price simply ridiculous seven hundred dollars.
I now do not have such sum, and the car is necessary for me already tomorrow by the evening, I told.
Yes, it is not the price, it is simply for nothing! You will see the car you will fall in love with it.
It is good, when it is possible to look at it?
Yes though now. Let’s go.
We came out into the yard.Leva pointed out to the big car of grey-green colour standing under the penthouse, the form reminding GAZ-24 dream of many Soviet motorists, but more elegant.
I noticed it for a long time already, the car was pleasant for me with its both colour, and figure, but I did not see, that somebody took it out from a stall.
Well, the car is good?
Remarkable, I sincerely told.
Turn value, Leva knocked with a palm on the roof, the case from the real metal, instead of any plastic. Reliable, as a rock. You can get inside, get acquainted.
Indeed! The owner there and then will call the police.
Will not call, because it is my car, self-satisfied Leva said.
The saloon was really spacious, convenient seats, an automatic transmission, the conditioner, cruise-control, a record cassette player.
There is more to come. You see, on the back of a driver’s armchair a body cloth in pimples? It is a masseur for a back of the driver. Button. Press it.
I pressed the button, and the seat begun to vibrate, scratching the back.
Very necessary thing for distant and night trips, it will not allow to fall asleep. You can drive in the territory, check-up road performance, estimate comfort degree, Leva offered me.
Having ridden on neighbouring small streets, I estimated qualities of the car. Unlike our “box” which behaved nervously, shuddered all case on the slightest pothole, the grey horse ran softly, smoothly, easily speeding up. It was not just driving, but pleasure.
And all this pleasure costs seven hundred green American roubles, Leva told, when I returned and confirmed advantages of the car. Ok, we will go, and that the old man, probably, was tired of waiting, torments now the mandoline.
Really, Igor Aronovich sat in a room near the wife, touched strings of the mandoline and you sang the Belarus song washing, you mine little girl …. On its cheek tear slid. Sofia Grigoryevna too cried.
Sofochka very much loves this song, Igor Aronovich justified, brushing away tear and blowing his nose with a scarf. Lets go to the kitchen, to drink tea.
Well, have you agreed? He asked, spilling vodka into glasses.
Igorek, only for the sake of you and this young man, considering his situation, I am ready to reduce by fifty dollars. But it is all. Eventually, one stereo radio, record cassette player costs two hundred dollars! So you want!? Six hundred fifty and cent less!
Levushka, make discount still by one, Igor Aronych offered, embracing Bobmana by shoulder and winking at me.
When the second bottle ended, the car price decreased to six hundred dollars.It was necessary to decrease by the third.As it was emptied, the price decreased also.
Last glass already cost five hundred.Lev got from his pocket the car keys and handed over to me.Thus we agreed that I will give three hundred dollars tomorrow, and the remaining within a month.
He nodded in agreement.We embraced, fraternized, and I took Leva to his apartment.I at last asked:
And how you will be now without the car?
Do not worry. I have other car. Bobmana always have something in a stock, Leva told and entered his apartment.
The fact that Americans understand cars deep error. Cars they do not understand. When I bought the first car, I too had to face an auto problem. The car smoothly worked, but from time to time on the instrument panel the disturbing inscription Urgently began to appear check-up the engine.
I went to a repair truck. The American garage men examined the engine, told that a problem very serious and it is necessary to change it. The sum for which they undertook to cure my horse, made hardly more costs of the car. It was easier to throw and buy other cheap car.
According to the advice of acquaintances I found a repair truck which was contained by the Baltic Jew, and worked there three Russian guys-emigrants.While they were children their parents took them whence from depth of Russia.
Tow -haired with round as pancake persons, with cunningly-cunning smiles, they perfectly knew English, but preferred to talk exclusively in Russian, and a perfect floor-mat.
From them smell of alcohol came, at one of guys under an eye the bruise flaunted.They examined the car, and asked me to take a walk about half an hour.
I took an interest, how much will cost repair.Yes, we will not offend, garage men told, in a familiar way winked, and I understood that I can trust kiddies.
In half an hour I came to the workshop.Well, where do you hang up?garage men completed their work, already it is time to have dinner.
You asked to take a walk half an hour.Well, we said it approximately.Your car is ready, can take away.You had time to disassemble the engine?
I was surprised.And what for to assort?An engine is in a full order.And what you then did?In me a dint of doubt whether they have touched the car at all, began to arise.
Yes, we cut out the gauge which irritated you, and threw out.Without having allowed to develop my fair indignation concerning such barbarous relation to technics, they gave me the whole lecture about the American cars, having explained that frequently all gadgets in them do not bear functional loading, and carry out purely decorative function, as, for example, my gauge.
But several times increase car cost.For the question: how much I should pay for repair, they smiled and told that a bottle of “Stolichnaya”, will quite be suffice for it.
I had work basically at night when offices were closed and we started the garbage service.In the afternoon not to waste time in vain, I bypassed area in which I lived, in search of additional work.
I came into the first institution cafe, shops, masterful, auto refuelling and said a treasured mantra I am looking for a job I search for work.
But I was not lucky. Workers knowingly nodded heads, benevolently smiled and grievously made a helpless gesture. It went on so day by day. And good luck was concealed absolutely nearby.
Nearby to our apartments there was a small Italian small restaurant.Once, coming back from the next campaign, I saw on a glass door a treasured inscription workers are required.
I came and stated to the manager who arrived for a call that I am that person who is necessary for them.The manager asked to show the work permit.
I showed him a card certifying my legal stay in the territory of the USA, a social card and work permit.
Having heard my clumsy English, he asked, whence I arrived. I told a lie that I am from Russia. Buzzing! He told. Russians are good workers. I was offered to buy a uniform black tennis shirt, black trousers, and black shoes and to come to work in the next morning.
In shop second-hand shop I got what I needed and the next day, black as a rook, was on new service in small Italian small restaurant. My work consisted in hanging out the Italian noodles which in America for some reason name paste.
It has different names fettuccini, petucini, cappuccino and other, but it seemed to me that all these are made of the same flour.Anyway, the huge tank with already welded noodles which was got from the refrigerator by the guy given to me as the instructor, contained homogeneous weight.
The guy weighed noodles on scales and displayed it on bags exactly two hundred gram one portion, sentencing: It was fettuccine, pertuccini , it was frappucini ….
One piece of slippery mass plopped down on the floor, but the instructor did not throw it out. He smiled, winked at me, lifted it from the floor and without any doubt threw … in the next package. I told anything to the guy, but his act amazed me. Soon I understood that in his act there was nothing unusual.
The front part of the majority of the American cafes and restaurants with obliging waiters, benevolent and affable managers, with beautifully served tables considerably differs from behind the scenes, in particular, kitchen service.
On the American television quite often twist rollers which were removed by candid cameras that are created on boondocks of restaurants, and even in elite culinary institutions.
In two months I was promoted and was translated from the weighing-room to the kitchen.Now I acted in a role of the juggler.Work was not difficult, but responsible.
Here the skill was necessary only.In the weighing-room I was given some packages with next pasta, I loaded them serially on a frying pan, sharp movement pulled a frying pan so that pieces of pastes a layer have laid down on one, then on other party of the heated frying pan.
And so until the product will not be ready for use.Soon I so got the hand that could juggle blindly.
It lasted not for long.For any reason, restaurant was closed, the former director somewhere disappeared, and all of us were invited to leave.And it is a pity.
I already began to think of career of the juggler.Alas, it was not possible.It was necessary to search for a new place of work.What under the account, I any more did not remember.
Once a familiar guy with whom we together worked in a toilet field, told that he found physically hard, but well paid work in a food warehouse, and suggested to replace intellectually poor garbage service with intellectual work of the loader.
The warehouse was called Mountain Peoples Warehouse that in Russian means the warehouse of mountain people. Why mountain, I did not found out. Whomever I asked all shrugged shoulders. Probably because nearby there were mountains kilometres in hundred from a warehouse. In the warehouse production of the various enterprises food, perfumery, household chemical goods was brought, etc.
On all articles of food there was an inscription that they are exclusively natural product without any GMO; the household chemical goods guaranteed absence of dioxide, titan, and other hazardous to health muck. Even on bottles with wine the label, notifying that this wine is grown in vineyards where in soil it was not added any fertilizers flaunted.
Work in the warehouse was pleasant for me.It was pure, developed muscles, attentiveness, sharpness, and was paid much better, than all previous.First it was necessary hardly for eight-hour change it was necessary to plough on jack (some kind of the cart with the motor), on huge, in size with two football grounds to a warehouse premise, winding some tens kilometres to remove from shelves and to load on the cart of the goods of two-three tons.
And it was necessary to combine them so that the equal cube in height under three metres turned out, and then from top to bottom to wind with its wide cloth of a transparent tape.
Errors were punished by the penalty.
The warehouse worked round the clock.I got to the shift which began at two o’clock in the afternoon and came to an end in ten evenings.
When the working day came to an end, and the volume of the accepted and sent goods had not been executed yet, the supervisor suggested wishing to remain for an extra time at four o’clock.
I always tried to use this possibility. First the muscles which had been warmed up by physical exercises any more did not feel weariness, and, secondly, benefit was obvious: each hour of an extra time cost almost twice more than usual, besides by two days off the third increased.
It happened, by inexperience, or imprudence of the jack lifter or fork-lift vehicle driver boxes with cans fell, or boxes with tea, chips, cookies, groats etc.Boxes were torn, rumpled, and to send them in such kind to the consumer it was impossible.
For recycling in the warehouse there was a shop where all was brought torn container.Here the elite foodstuffs were realised almost for nothing.
So I tried for the first time anchovies about which before only heard. I remember that they stood out for madly tasty and expensive product calculated on gourmets and judges of delicacies. It appeared that it is simply small fish like a sprat, and but it could not be called a delicacy.
I could not avoid losses either.It was at the very beginning of my career of the loader.I needed to remove from a shelf a feed bag with walnuts with a weight of about twenty kg.
Having seized a polyethylene bag for two ends, I pulled it to myself, but hardly had it left a refuge as the bottom seam had dispersed, and all contents had fallen out on the floor.
I had control over the deserted bag, looked at mountain of the freshest, most gentle, shelled, expensive nuts not impregnated with a chemical poison, and deliberated what to do further? In such kind shops will not accept the goods, and the penalty for imprudence will pull on one hundred-other dollars. But not to throw out such good!
Having looked round, I spread a bag on the floor, and began handfuls to push nuts back. My shifts did not remain not noticed. I had not had time to gather and a half-bag as nearby there was supervisor Stewart. Probably someone marked my attempts to sweep up vestiges of the crime, and reported on the foreman.
What happens, Vlad?He asked.The bag had torn, I explained, continuing to get by inertia nuts. “Stop”, Stewart ordered.He sat down on hunkers, and inspected bag edge.
He lifted it by ears and threw out already almost gathered nuts on the floor.Bring a shovel and a tank for a waste.I brought. “Fill”, the supervisor ordered, showing the tank.
Stewart, let’s put nuts back, I will sew up this edge, and all will be as it should be, we will give to shop, I begged.or if it is my fault, I will buy these nuts …
Vlad, it is not your fault, the foreman smiled.Simply inaccurate work of the manufacturer.You see, this seam is made, as well as it is necessary, on three centimetres from edge, and this that has torn, is soldered almost at the end.
It has not sustained loading, and has dispersed.I repeat, you are not guilty.I will draw up the statement, and warehouse will present the account to the manufacturer.
Any shop will not accept these goods, including ours.Nuts lay on the floor, and, means are already unsuitable for sale.
But after all anybody of it did not see. You are mistaken, Stewart grinned, here everywhere there are eyes and ears. It is possible to present expression of my person when I raked up a shovel and sent into garbage tank excellent nuts of twenty kg.
Already on the first day of my work in the warehouse, the smiling guy approached me, shaken hands and presented himself: Vladimir Holodnyak. I named myself, and having heard my surname, he smiled even more: About, swiy, the brother khokhol! Warm welcome! Well, will we talk?.
I told that I am Russian, and the Ukrainian speech I did not understand.And whence you arrived?My namesake took an interest.I informed that from Turkmenistan.
About, fine!He exclaimed, let’s talk Turkmen: Salam aleikum!Nahili yagdaylar?Saglymy?Sagat nache?Sen nirede yashadyn?he poured questions, asking as my affairs, whether I where I lived and my health?
And so on.
I was taken aback: whence this Ukrainian guy has got such knowledge of Turkmen language? He burst out laughing. It appeared that my new acquaintance served three years in Kushka. There he also learnt the language.
He with his family arrived in the States from Ukraine for religious matters. They were whether Baptists, whether five-foremen, and can, Jehovists, in a word, adherents of one of the religious organisations not recognised in Orthodoxy who are considered driven and consequently find a shelter in the USA.
In America they love, and with pleasure employ the Ukrainian emigrants.They are hardworking, cheerful, and sociable, they do not take a stranger, but also hey do not miss their chance.
The wife and daughter of Volodya worked in the same warehouse, only in other branches.We made friends.They lived nearby to the warehouse, and I often happened to visit them.
The numerous teams of loaders consisted basically of youth. I was already under fifty, and I was considered as an old man. Supervisor Stewart with whom we had friendly relations, suggested me to finish manual skills, and to be given to work mechanical.
It concerned that I should change the jack-lifter job for the fork-lift. Volodya Holodnyak trained me to operate this simple car, and in three days I with might and main drove in the warehouse, removing from shelves the goods and delivering them to destination any more hands, and by means of the elevating mechanism.
Tolik Rossiytsev became one more my friend.The family of Tolik arrived in the States from Kirghizia, and too under the religious admission.Unlike Volodya whose cult ceremonies were observed mainly by the wife, Tolik was very religious.
Before sitting down at table, his wife, two daughters rose and joined hands.Tolik created a blest prayer, and then all started a meal.
Together with Tolik we made small travel to Canada, wandered across Vancouver where signboards in the Chinese and Vietnamese languages was more than in English. Tolik, by profession was a driver-trucker, taught me what to do, if the starter as it is possible most to change oil in the engine has refused, rectified small faults in electric system.
Once, coming back from work, my engine halfway stopped.Time two o’clock in the morning.What to do?The necessary tools I did not have with me.
To wait, so that somebody would take me?In the State of Washington fellow travellers do not take.To call tow trucks?When they will arrive?
To remain till the morning in the car I will freeze, after all the engine does not work.I called Tolik.He soon came along the highway and eliminated malfunction.
Then he accompanied me to the house, and only having convinced that I had safely reached, my friend returned.
Crisis, as always, crept imperceptibly.In one not so fine day we were informed that the company management will staff reduction in all branches.It will concern our warehouse.
But it will touch not everything, and only those who served less than two years.I got to this list also my experience totalled by then only one and a half year.
We received discharge and I went to search for new work. The next campaign in agency on employment crowned success. Work was at the carton factory. But before sending me there, I was asked to take a test for intellectual compatibility with new service.
I sat down to table and reflected: really work at factory so serious, what demands remarkable mental faculties? And suddenly I, the person with university education will fail the test? What then? To search for new work?
While I reflected on my further destiny, to the table approached an Afro-American woman ,set up on it a basket with cubes, pyramids , balls and put a sheet of paper.
On the list a square, a triangle and a circle were drawn.Opposite me a nice Mexican sat, perhaps she was also a contestant for a workplace.Before her they also put a basket.
When we were explained task conditions, I was taken aback, and the Mexican in puzzle looked at me and sprinkled in a palm.The Afro-American woman got used to similar reaction, smiled and slightly made a helpless gesture, say, not I thought up it, rules were that.
Thus she watched closely that we did not spy to each other.
The task consisted in arranging fragments, according to their compatibility with each other.If you had placed a pyramid on a square, and a cube on a circle, means, you are not ready to intellectual work and suit only in yard keepers.
Though who knows, can here and applicants to the place of the yard keeper pass the similar test.All of us placed correctly, and now the agency could be quiet for us to mental work are ready!
Work appeared not absolutely intellectual, to be more exacts, completely not intellectual.Before me stands a cube in height of two meters.These are cardboard preparations which have just brought from shop.
From them it is necessary to create boxes.You take preparation, slightly you compress it from two parties, you connect bottom “ears”, you stick with their adhesive tape and you put aside.
You take the second preparation, then the third, the fifth, the tenth, the 100-th …
By the end of day I understood that if further it will proceed so, a maximum in a week I will earn full intellectual backwardness, I will run into marasmus and I will already precisely put a ball on a cube.
I remembered the hero Charlie Chaplin from the film New times which performed monotonous work twisted nuts on the moving conveyor, and then already mechanically twisted the passer-by of a button.
I imagined how I clap passers-by on each side, forming them of boxes.
It was thought: instead of whether to be engaged in familiar and habitual garbage service.The natural obstinacy not always served me for advantage, but this time helped.
Next day I not appeared any more at the carton factory, and came to warehouse collars of “mountain people.My change began just.I greeted children, was thrown with them several phrases, and it seemed to me that they feel a bit guilty that they there, and I, ownerless, stand here.
There came Stewart, shook hands, and simultaneously shrugged shoulders supposedly what will you do, crisis. There was manager Eric, and made a helpless gesture: Excuse me, Vlad, but no place. No matter, no problem, I answered. I simply came to see my friends.
My standing at the gate proceeded day three.On the fourth Eric any more not slipped by, having thrown on the move the phrase Excuse me, Vlad, no place, and stopped and asked: work is very necessary for you? .
I nodded.We will go to office, we will talk.Leaving the office, I got in the fork-lift truck and continued service.
I lived in America for seven years. I will not tell that it was the best of my years, but also not the worst ones. Anyway, I learnt much there, for it, I am grateful to the country in which love and respect work, persistently work, and appreciate people who aspire to benefit the state which has accepted them.
Working in various manufactures, I saw, how the people who arrived here from a different doomsday accurately and harmoniously work. First it happens difficultly, especially for those who never did manual work before, but, finally, difficulties recede and all falls into place.
I was always admired, with what friendliness and attention skilled workers of the various enterprises and services helped beginners, never refusing to give them advice and help.On the contrary, frequently, under the initiative, without any requests, skilled workers tried to encourage the newly arrived, to prompt and give them self-confidence, remembering that, as well as they began recently this way.
And in what country to live everyone chooses for himself.
Three years I worked in the warehouse, and then I did not bear.Euphoria from stay in the States has passed for long ago, on the earth I have not found the American paradise, and even more often thought of what I do here?
To whom I here am necessary?Everything that I have got my mum, my house, my native, cosy city, my friends.I called my mum, bought the ticket for the plane and rushed off home, to Ashkhabad.
Vladimir Zarembo