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Leaving for Latvia,
Stopping in Kharkov, Ukraine
CHAPTER 10
We soon started out on our journey from Crimea
to Latvia. I do not remember the preparations or the day we left,
but I do remember very well the day we stopped in Kharkov and spent
a long time waiting for something at the railway station. There
were lots of people there, it was very noisy and it was very dirty. Suddenly there was some shouting nearby and Mother went into the
next hall to see what happened. I went with her. A crowd was standing
there and people were shouting something. On the floor there was
a motionless body of a man with a broken scull, lying in a pool
of blood. It was a terrible sight. Mother took me away immediately,
but the fear remained with me for a long time. As soon as I hear
the name "Kharkov" (still!) I think of that railway station
and the man in the pool of blood. This "terrible thing"
remained with me for a long time as a child.
We found a place to stay in some hotel in Kharkov. We spent a couple
of weeks there or maybe a month. It seemed like a long time and
it had became a sort of a home for us. I remember the whole family
at the dinner table, with a "samovar" and a kerosene lamp…
There, in Kharkov, a memorable event "lit up"
our lives. Someone knocked on the door and two army men came in. They were "reds", they wore boots, long army coats and
pointed hats called "budyonnovka". The grown-ups got up
as they thought that this was yet another search, as it had happened
often in the past. However, one of the men turned towards Mother
and exclaimed: "Tsilya, don't you recognize me?" "Zelik"
– Mother said. It was her brother Zelik, our uncle, who was serving
in the Red Army.
Zelik brought a lot of joy into our house: there were always plenty
of jokes and laughter when he came to visit. He came often, sometimes
for a few minutes and sometimes for longer. He explained to us what
the rules were: if he comes and his army hat remains on his head
it means that he has not got much time and no fun was coming, but
if the hat comes off his head it means he is free and there is enough
time for jokes and play. I remember Zyama and I used to see where
his hat was and tried to hide it. We thought that would make him
stay longer, but Zelik's face became serious and we had to give
him his hat right back. However, when he used to take his hat off
and put it away on the cupboard or the bookshelf, we understood
that now was the time for fun. He used to carry us on his back,
told us funny stories, showed us tricks and there were lots of noisy
games too. Mother kept smiling, she was happy to see Zelik playing
with us. I do not know when he stopped coming. It seems that he
was sent away somewhere. Since then we have not heard from Zelik
at all. The border was completely closed (between independent Latvia
and the USSR) and no mail could be received. All that was left was
a memory of our very kind and funny uncle who knew so well how to
play with us. He was very much like our Zyama. This is why I have
already written that there was quite a similarity between them. Life on the Train
Later on I heard many times that we had spent 6 weeks travelling
on the train. So, a sort of a way of life was established while
we did. We had gotten used to sleeping on our packed belongings
and the plank-board "beds". We ate there too. There were
lots of army men travelling with us. There was a nice old man there
and a boy a bit older than me. Why is the train somehow connected
with the memory of a doll? And of cocoa? Now as I am writing this
I remembered that the train used to stop for a long time at different
places and this is why the journey lasted 6 weeks. At one of those
long stops some relatives or close friends of the family found us
and came to visit. They brought cocoa for all the children and gave
me a doll as a present. The cocoa was wonderful and the doll was
a real treasure even though it was a rag doll. After a long time
of having no dolls at all, it became a source of great joy to me. Who were these people? Where did the train stop then? I don't know. I think they were Mother's distant cousins. There was something else I remember from our life
on the train. During one of those stops where train remained for
a long time Father left our carriage and stepped off the train,
standing nearby. Suddenly, without any warning, the train started
moving. Father was left there standing on the ground. There was
a great commotion and everyone in our carriage was in shock and
fear. However, luckily enough, the train stopped again and we were
told that Father had run after the train and had managed to jump
into the last carriage. When the train stopped again he made his
way to our carriage. His appearance brought about a true rejoicing. I, on the other hand, had developed a latent fear of being left
behind when travelling by train. During the period of our being
evacuated from Riga, while I was travelling with Iren from Yaroslavl
to Kirov (a trip that lasted 11 days) I had not moved for more than
ten steps away from our train carriage, fearful of being left behind,
as it had happened to Father. During all my consequent train trips
I have always been reluctant to move away from my carriage, still
being afraid to be left behind…
Going to Libau and Arriving in Riga. Quarantine
While we were travelling on the train there were always talks about
our going to Libau where Father's brothers were living and where
we, the children, have cousins. The word Libau or "Libava"
in Russian, was mentioned all the time. However, as our destination
was coming closer we found out that we shall be going to Riga as
one of Father's brother had recently moved there from Libau. This
came as a great surprise to us, all the children, and we were even
disappointed as we thought that Riga was a worse place to be than
Libau. Also, Riga was closer and that made our trip shorter. In
any case, we found out that Father's brother Aron was now in Riga
and we are going to stay with him.
I remember the moment when the train had arrived at the Riga railway
station. Some people came into our carriage and our relatives were
among them. We were told that we shall have to "go into quarantine". We were taken to a place that looked like a large dormitory. I recall
a large room with lots of beds and our family, together with some
other families, were living there. Aron and Sonya visited us daily
and so did the Opeshkins: Eva Markovna and Zinovy Osipovich. The
Opeshkins were close friends of the family who took a great interest
in the fate of our family. They came to see us daily, brought us
food and one day, I remember, they brought us some local currency. Those rubles were of different colors and they differed from the
money used in Russia. We, the children, did not understand much
about that though.
I do not remember how long we stayed in the quarantine "dormitory". We were finally allowed to leave and we planning to move in with
Aron and Sonya. Suddenly it transpired that Tusya was ill. We kept
it a secret as otherwise the authorities would have kept us in quarantine
much longer. Tusya was dressed and we all went by coach, I think,
to Aron and Sonya. I still remember how we had to go up to the fifth
floor, where they lived, and how Tusya could barely walk up the
stairs because she was sick. They lived at No. 8, Ganibu Dambas
(now Sverdlov St. ). It was a huge house with a garden and the house
belonged to the Opeshkins. Thus our large family settled in Aron's
apartment. First Impressions. Everybody Has Measles
Our arrival and meeting the family left a vivid impression. This
is one of the pictures I have in my mind: Aunt Sonya put me on the
table. She is holding me with one hand and caressing my head with
the other hand. Then she calls our loudly: "Lisa, bring some
yoghourt for the girl!" I understand that I am the "girl",
but what is "yoghourt"? Some word long forgotten. And
then I remember: this is something white and tasty… I was given
some yoghourt, it was thick and cold. It looked like soft white
stones on the spoon…
Meeting our cousins, Yoka and Tamara, came later. One day Lisa was
with me as I was bathing when suddenly a little boy in a dark shirt
and a bib came in. He had long hair and freckles. This was Yoka. He pensively looked at me and said nothing. Later Yoka used to tell
that he had loved my thick and wavy hair. When they were soon cut
off (I think they were shaved off) he was very upset because he
thought that made me look ugly. I do not remember my first meeting
with Tamara. Soon we were not even living together: it transpired
that Tusya had the measles and all of us, Benno, Zyama and I, also
contracted the measles. Yoka and Tamara were moved out somewhere
else in order to avoid it, but nothing helped; they got the measles
too but in their case it was less acute. Therefore, all four of
us were put to bed in a darkened room at Aunt Sonya's apartment
for the duration of our illness. I remember that I had very high
temperature and found it hard to breathe. I think that we arrived in Riga in winter, probably
in January or February of 1922. It took us all quite a long time
to recover from the measles. I also remember that Zyama and I were
taken to Yoka and Tamara for a visit to the hotel where they had
been staying. We all played together and soon became friends. I
think we stayed with Aron and Sonya until the summer came. My Daydreaming Begins
When I had the measles I had to spend a long time in bed and was
getting bored. This was probably when my "fantasy period"
started: I began inventing a different life for myself. This "fantasy
game" or daydreaming filled up my life for the next 5 or 6
years. I will therefore try to describe what I thought about during
my illness and also later, practically every day, before going off
to bed.
I am a grown-up. I have a husband and his name is Alexander. This
husband, however, was rather unreal and he lived somewhere far away,
always going away "on business". At first, I have two
children: Vera and George. (There were my favorite names then. )
George is the oldest and he is 8. (I was only 7and a half myself
at that time. ) He has wavy brown hair and a fringe. (Alik Opeshkin,
Eva Markovna's son, had a haircut like that. ) George has dark eyes. He is unruly and prone to mischief. Vera was a year younger. She
had shoulder-length wavy blonde hair and she also had a fringe. She had a nice gentle face and blue eyes. She was a good girl, kind
and obedient. Later I had another son, Seryozha. (That was another
favorite name by then. ) He had brown eyes and hair darker than Vera's. (This combination was my favorite for years. ) Seryozha was 3. Then
someone brought an orphan to our house: a black boy called Tommy. Tommy was a pretty boy who was 4. He was also something of a mischief
and he tried to copy George. (I have always found little black children
attractive and I still do. I suppose this is why I have always liked
black dolls. )
Thus, every night after going to bed I closed my eyes and "lived"
in my invented world until I fell asleep. It seemed very real to
me. My children got up every morning, had breakfast, they all said
something and I replied, they studied, went for walks, played, broke
dishes, fought with each other, did something good or something
bad, became sick and got better, had their toys… The life of my
invented family continued day after day. It lived in an apartment
very much like that of Aunt Sonya. My husband Alexander appeared
from time to time but soon left. I spent my days with my children,
teaching them, praising them or punishing them and having long talks
with them. Every day differed from the one before and life went
on. The children did not grow, they remained the same age. They
did different things and we visited different places. All this fantasy
life seems very vivid; it all continued during the second half of
my childhood. (I consider the first half of it to be the period
spent in Crimea and our arrival in Riga, while the second half starts
with our life at Aunt Sonya's and ends with my entering the Russian
school. More about that later. )
My First Books
I
cannot remember when I started to read, but I do remember my first
favorite books. One of them was H. C. Andersen's story "The Snow
Queen". I still love it. The book I had was beautifully printed
and had color illustrations. Its cover had a picture of two houses
with balconies with roses and next to the houses there were Kay
and Gerda. Gerda was very pretty and she had long hair. Kay was
also very handsome and he had shoulder-length hair. I have never
seen an edition of that story as beautiful as the book I had. I
have not read it in years but I remembered everything and when it
was staged in Riga's Youth Theatre, I seemed to remember it all. Later, when the story was staged in Riga's Young Pioneers' Club
and Iren played the part of the little robber girl, it was a real
present for me. Our whole family went to see the play and Iren's
costume was very pretty.
.JPG)
Iren in the part of the little robber girl is on
the right, the other girl plays Gerda. The second picture depicts
a scene in the play. Iren wrote on the back of it: "The Drama
Studio of the Young Pioneers' Palace. January 1952. "The Snow
Queen".
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