Moving to KirovCHAPTER 5 No-one knew at the Yaroslavl railway station when the train to Kirov will arrive. Every day I went to the station to make inquiries but found out nothing. Grey and unwelcoming days followed one another… One evening a stranger came into our barrack and shouted: "The train is arriving in an hour! It will be going to Kirov!" A real commotion started. I have no idea how we managed to reach the station. Someone must have helped us because I could not have carried all our things myself. It was already quite dark. The fact that we managed to get on the train was a real miracle. When the train arrived there was quite a crush: people shoved and cried, tried to get ahead of each other in order to get inside the carriages…. I thought we shall never make it. But some stranger helped me, he threw inside my things, helped Iren up to board the carriage and I somehow managed to get in myself too, full of disbelief that here I was, inside the train, sitting on my suitcase (the places were all taken) and holding Iren on my lap. All this meant that soon we shall be moving. It was a difficult night. It was cold in the carriage and there was no place for me to sleep. I held Iren on my lap and this is how we spend the night. I was glad she was asleep, but I did not sleep at all. Early in the morning when people started getting up I found a free spot and curled up to get some sleep, telling Iren to be a good girl and keep quiet. I was extremely tired and felt that everything was floating away when suddenly I felt that I was being covered up with a warm heavy coat. I did not have the energy to look who did it and everything disappeared: I fell asleep. When I woke up it was already daylight and I looked around: I saw Iren talking to somebody, as was her habit, there were people around doing something and next to me I saw a middle-aged man with dark eyebrows and an energetic expression on his face. He was not wearing a coat and I understood that he was the one who covered me with his coat. His name was Sergey Alexandrovich and he was the foreman of a whole group of building workers. He was taking them to Kirov. One of his women workers had a little baby and Sergey Alexandrovich took care of her. Sitting on my suitcase that morning I told this stranger everything that happened to me and Iren and he kept listening, without saying a word, until I came to the end of my story. It somehow happened that Sergey Alexandrovich started helping me too. In the course of my story I mentioned that I took an oath never to leave the train so as not to part, by accident, from Iren again. During the times the train stopped Sergey Alexandrovich, like many of the other passengers, left the train to go to the station to get some hot water and, if that could be managed, to get some milk for the baby I had mentioned. He brought me some hot water too and sometimes Iren got her share of the milk as well. He did it so naturally, without any hint at trying to do anyone a favor… When we arrived in Kirov we parted from Sergey Alexandrovich, thanking him heartily for all his help, left our belongings in storage at the station and went on walking. I knew that I have to keep on walking as otherwise I shall fall and turn into a block of ice. I could not even hold Iren's hand, my hand felt wooden, the fingers did not move – and neither did my thoughts… I kept walking quickly, trying not to fall, and Iren kept running after me and calling me to slow down: "Mum, Mum!" I felt I could not slow down, I almost stopped realizing that my child was there next to me… Strange as it may seem, another good man helped us: a private car stopped nearby, the driver opened the door and called out: "Get in, I will give you a lift!" It seemed to be wormer inside the car and I felt that I was alive again… The station was quite far from the city center but the car brought us there quite quickly. Here we were at the door of the house where Fanya and her whole family were living… …I assumed that I would be staying with Fanya for two-three days and would then go on to the orphanage to start my work there. However, the situation was very different and, in fact, much worse. It transpired that the establishment of the orphanage had been postponed indefinitely and my invitation to Kirov was rash and badly planned. I was now left without a job, without money and without a place to live… The offices of the Soviet Latvian government were situated in Drelevsky St., not far from where Fanya lived. No-one there could tell me what will now happen to me. I received financial assistance: they gave me 1 000 Roubles, which really was not much because money became quite worthless at that time: 500 Roubles were the price of two and a half loaves of bread or half a kilo of butter…I think I also received a ration card for 400 grams of bread. That was all I had. My situation was really bad, especially since Iren got sick, she had the measles. She probably go it from the child she had been sleeping next to on the train. Fanya's family lived in some dormitory, in a large room that housed several families. I had nowhere to go and had remained there "semi-legally": I slept on the table and Iren, sick and with high temperature, slept on two suitcases. Everyone said that she should be taken to the hospital. One day I went off somewhere quite far, to the hospital, and told the head physician the whole story. She thought a bit and told me: "If you have the smallest possibility not to bring the child to the hospital, don't bring her here… Not a single sick child came out of here alive…" The way back "home" was terrible. I knew that Iren had very high temperature: +40°. The temperature outside was -40°. I knew we had nowhere to go and that I could not take Iren to the hospital. The street leading from the hospital was a long one, the sidewalks were wooden and slippery because of the ice. I was very cold and walked very quickly, I almost ran, and my tears kept getting frozen on my face… How much pain my heart had to carry during that way back, how many terrible thoughts passed through my head – I cannot tell. I felt all alone in the world. Here I was, running along and crying in that freezing weather and no-one could care less. And what awaited me at home? I was adamant about not taking Iren to the hospital! So, I stayed with Fanya. Feeling out of place and unwelcome there, I tried not to bother anyone and to be as inconspicuous as possible. From time to time I performed an important task: I got up at 5 o'clock in the morning and went off to stand in a queue to a shop where for a "commercial price" (which was twice as high as the regular one) one person could buy 100 grams of butter. Early in the morning the people in the queue had their queue number written on their palms and they kept standing there for many hours. (The numbers reached 800 or 900 or even higher!) Yet, there was another possibility: to become part of the "chain" that guarded the queue, watching that people from the "outside" would not try to "invade" it. As a "prize" for guarding the queue someone from the "chain" could join the queue after another ten people had passed and made it to the counter. I joined the "chain" to reduce the time to be spent in the queue and in the end got the small piece of butter. I often felt sad during that period. I used to sit down, hugging Iren and keeping her close to me. She became very thin after her illness and I thought at the time that she will never gain weight. Here is one of my notes about her: "9th January 1942. "Mum, why do you keep saying that I became so thin that there has been nothing left of me?! I will get fat again!" Here are some more of my notes: "23rd of January 1942. "Mum, if the Germans had destroyed our Riga, isn't it right that engineers will build new houses there and they will build a new apartment, same as we had before, with the same sofa and the same toys I had?" "27th January 1942. Suddenly she starts remembering all sorts of things that happened back in Riga, even things that took place about a year and a half ago. She kept asking me again and again: "Who gave me the little glass for brushing my teeth and my toothbrush?" I, of course, keep saying: "I did", but she seems to be unhappy about my answers, thinking of something. Then one day she suddenly says: "Mum, I know who gave them to me, it was Aunt Khaya!" She was right: last year, in June 1940, Khaya brought her the little glass and the toothbrush as a birthday present, just before we had moved to the seaside…"
The only person who did not forget about me then was Nata Busse. She informed me that I will be sent to a special course for Soviet party workers now that the opening of the orphanage had been postponed. Being a student in that course will entitle me to a scholarship and a food-ration card. It looked that like my fate was taking a better turn. However, when I contacted the administration in charge of organizing the course, I was told that I cannot be accepted as a student since the course was meant for persons who did not have higher education. Isn't it strange that this was to be a negative factor?! However, Nata Busse came to their office and the problem was solved very quickly. I was accepted to the course, everything was duly recorded and I received ration cards for obtaining bread and other food. I was also granted a permit to eat at a certain cafeteria. Suddenly my situation turned from a very sad one to one of a person enjoying a special status: I could just sit and study! This seemed to me a real fairytale!
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