Some production notes: this will conclude my ground–breakingseries on this subject. I received requests not to link self-respecting bloggers to posts of this nature, all I can say is some people don’t recognize greatness when they see it. I would also take requests for subjects you’d like me to cover in the future. The last installment will just tie up some loose ends. Enough with crappy puns, we are moving on to the subject of:
Public restrooms.
The one thing that stands out about public restrooms is that there weren’t that many. There were few maintained by the city in the parks and other public places and that was it. Public restrooms were just as dirty, nasty and smelly as you would imagine. But so were every dark corner and every hallway in apartment buildings that couldn’t be locked. Citizens who did not exercise total control over their bladders and bowel movements found other ways to express themselves. The stench was legendary. The problem was made worse by the fact that there was no fast food or other public places where a person could stop by in case of emergency. Even some popular comedies and jokes of that time depicted someone knocking on the random apartment door and offering money just to be able to use the restroom. Every soviet citizen got the joke. I myself was in a similar situation, although it didn’t seem that funny when I had to do it.
After the perestroikamany public bathrooms became privatized. Newly minted attendants collected a fee, dispersed toilet paper, cleaned and freshened the air. 20th century luxuries finally made it into the USSR but the country didn’t last very long after that. Maybe the whole foundation of the Soviet system was based on the toilet hardship.
Epilogue:
Long time ago I realized that my daughter cannot pee without a toilet. As a father I am not sure how to explain the process and describe what needs to be done. I tried to talk my (then) wife into teaching this necessary life skill to a child but all I got is a shrug. I am awaiting in horror when during one of our driving trips we would not be able to find a restroom. On one hand, I am glad the the restroom problem is solved here and my kid will not to have to use one of the smelly, nasty and slimy restrooms of my youth. On the other hand…
This week the Kansas City’s Jewish Community will be commemorating the 20th anniversary of the Operation Exodus – a massive effort to resettle the Soviet Jews in North America and Israel. Over a million Jews left the USSR between the years 1970-1995 with a large percentage being welcomed by the communities in the United States. The history of the Jewish emigration out of the USSR has its share of political conflicts and controversies, but the sincerity and generosity of the American citizens trying to help the Soviet Jews is beyond any doubt and is the source of unending gratitude from the recipients of this effort.
When we were leaving in 1992 I didn’t know about any of this: political and humanitarian efforts, 250,000 people marching in Washington in 1987, the Lautenberg Amendment – everything that led to us walking out of the TWA terminal of the Kansas City International airport on a hot October day wearing full winter gear.
By the time of our departure the “iron curtain” had an equivalent of a highway going through it, a road laid out by the thousands of people who made the trip before us, starting with a trickle of refuseniks who spent years being denied the right to leave, and ending with a true exodus of the Jewish population. Everyone knew or was related to someone who had already left, was in the process of leaving or was at least entertaining the idea.
The process was pretty streamlined, and a certain amount of bribes and extortion money made it run relatively smooth.
From obtaining the passports….
…to an interview at the American Embassy in Moscow, a place where I first got to see real Marines and drop ceilings, to an anxious wait for the telegram with the life-changing words.
The Actual Telegram from the migration bureau stating that we were approved and need to appear to receive the paperwork and schedule the flight out.The Official Letter of ApprovalThe reverse side of the letter of admission. The facing page is in Russian
Few months later our passports were being stamped by an INS officer at the JFK airport.
I only remember bits and pieces from that time. Flashbacks of trips to Moscow, standing in line near the embassy, first time lighting a cigarette in front of my Mom, medical tests, trying to get rid of our possessions, tearing up “non-essential” photographs, train ride, last customs search, first international flight, Brussels, JFK, St.Louis, etc., etc., etc. A blur of events and faces, places and things…
Many people shared their emigration stories full of drama, tears, heartbreak, hard work, success, joy, fulfillment and hope; mine doesn’t seem so interesting in comparison. I left relatively young and just took it one step at a time always looking forward to the next day. People who came here as a part of Operation Exodus became business owners and engineers, scientists and doctors, the likes of the Google co-founder Sergei Brin and actress Mila Kunis; many achieved professional and financial success, others had a chance to give the best education to their children.
Over the years since we immigrated here, I had my share of joys and disappointments; many times the reality turned out to be quite different from what I imagined; some of my ideals were shattered and the other ones were formed but one thing will always remain with me – the people who welcomed us here, provided the things we needed, helped us make this city home, drove us to the appointments, taught me to drive, helped with the resume, and did countless other things to make us feel wanted. Some of these people were related to us, but the majority were just members of the community whom we never had a chance to properly thank.
All these people who helped, marched, contributed and just provided moral support should be proud of themselves – their efforts changed countless lives to the better; their charity and sacrifice will be forever appreciated.
And the prize for the biggest penis sign goes to (drum roll) Julia Lynn for State Senator. She wins by a skinan inch small margin.
If I had a religion I would be switching it right now. You probably can’t read this sign photographed at a local Backyard Burgers restaurant but it says:”FREE 1/3 BYB (backyard burger) with church bulletin”. Last time I went to a synagogue I didn’t even get a free bagel. For those keeping a score: Jesus – 1, other deities – 0.
With paramedics, polyclinics and plastic bone banks everybody gets free care in the USSR.
In the 1919 when the newly launched Soviet Union was threatened by a plague of louse-borne typhus, Vladimir Illyich Lenin bluntly warned his countrymen: “Either the lice defeat socialism or socialism defeats the lice.” The USSR survived the lice and in the half century since has built to most massive system of the national health care ever known, still based on Lenin’s logical, if unsentimental premise: Russia needs her workers, and a sick worker cannot work.
From birth do death the Soviet citizen is followed by a dossier of his health history. He may get production line preventive treatment without leaving his post at school, factory, farm or office. If he is sick but can walk, he goes to a polyclinic, one of thousands of free, all-purpose infirmaries. At least in the cities there are doctors aplenty. Of the world’s 2.5 million physicians, 500,000 – or one in five – are Russians. (The U.S. by comparison has 309,000 M.D.s, for a population 85% as large. Another half million trained medical assistants called feldshers supplement the doctors, particularly in the vast, thinly settled rural outlands.
The system has flaws. To achieve quantity, the quality of treatment often suffers. Hospital sanitation is spotty at best. Anesthetics and modern equipment are often unavailable and most advanced drugs have to be imported. Dentistry is painfully old-fashioned. Medical education considered as a whole, is not up to U.S. standards (I would argue with that. M.V). But the Soviet goal is a lifetime health care for everyone, and any enterprise that ambitious is bound to have failings.
Do you think state troopers hate when everyone slows down around them to 5 miles below the speed limit even when they are not on the prowl for offenders but just going to the nearest donut shop to get a dozen glazed? (Why the hell is the word “donut” not in my spellchecker, but the word “spellchecker” is?) On the other hand, every time you annoy a state trooper an angel gets a pair.
Have you ever tried to look at the top of your head, say, to figure out if you still have hair there or if it’s already an ever expanding bald spot? Seems like it requires a two-mirror solution and lots of neck contortions.
And speaking of bald spots: if you ever see me sporting this haircut, I hereby give you permission to put me out of my misery. Just print out this post and do what you have to do. It will totally stand up in court.
The last installment will just tie up some loose ends. Enough with crappy puns, we are moving on to the subject of:
Citizens who did not exercise total control over their bladders and bowel movements found other ways to express themselves. The stench was legendary. The problem was made worse by the fact that there was no fast food or other public places where a person could stop by in case of emergency. Even some popular comedies and jokes of that time depicted someone knocking on the random apartment door and offering money just to be able to use the restroom. Every soviet citizen got the joke. I myself was in a similar situation, although it didn’t seem that funny when I had to do it.
This week the Kansas City’s Jewish Community will be commemorating the 20th anniversary of the Operation Exodus – a massive effort to resettle the Soviet Jews in North America and Israel. Over a million Jews left the USSR between the years 1970-1995 with a large percentage being welcomed by the communities in the United States. The history of the Jewish emigration out of the USSR has its share of political conflicts and controversies, but the sincerity and generosity of the American citizens trying to help the Soviet Jews is beyond any doubt and is the source of unending gratitude from the recipients of this effort.
