St. Petersburg, Russia
Moved in1990
Moved in1990
My name is Misha. I came (to the US) from Russia in 1990, on December 27th. I was born in St. Petersburg, where my parents met. My father studied at the Military Academy there.
My father was discharged (from the navy in 1988) because my uncle left for America, and that was the end of my father's career as a military officer.
My dad is from Riga, so we lived there until we left to the US. In 1990, it was already possible to fly directly (from Russia) to the US without waiting (for a visa) in Europe.
We flew from St. Petersburg with a quick stop in Greenland to New York and from there over to Chicago. My uncle was already settled here (in Chicago), and sent us an invitation. After that, my parents invited their parents, then my mother invited her sister and little by little we pulled out almost all of our relatives from Russia to America.
My father was discharged (from the navy in 1988) because my uncle left for America, and that was the end of my father's career as a military officer.
My dad is from Riga, so we lived there until we left to the US. In 1990, it was already possible to fly directly (from Russia) to the US without waiting (for a visa) in Europe.
We flew from St. Petersburg with a quick stop in Greenland to New York and from there over to Chicago. My uncle was already settled here (in Chicago), and sent us an invitation. After that, my parents invited their parents, then my mother invited her sister and little by little we pulled out almost all of our relatives from Russia to America.
How Misha received a gift more than 30 years later
An interesting point, after we came to Chicago, on either the 3d or 5th of January 1991, (there was a coup) tanks were rolling through the center of Riga. The (Soviet) government was rejected and that was the beginning of the end of “Soviet Socialism” in Latvia. If we had not left when we did, we may have been stuck there for a long time. It was luck that a man my dad knew well, came to him and said: you must leave Riga before the end of the year. He was somehow connected with the government or, I don’t know, a special intelligence unit. He knew that something was about to go down.
Funny immigrant stories? There were a lot, but a few funny ones come to mind! When we arrived, I remember my uncle bought a bunch of bananas. For me, to see so many, it was a dream come true, because I only saw bananas once in my life. They were the small (Cuban) bananas. These were huge and so many of them! I attacked these bananas, probably ate five of them at once. I ate so much that I couldn't look at bananas for about six months after that.
Funny immigrant stories? There were a lot, but a few funny ones come to mind! When we arrived, I remember my uncle bought a bunch of bananas. For me, to see so many, it was a dream come true, because I only saw bananas once in my life. They were the small (Cuban) bananas. These were huge and so many of them! I attacked these bananas, probably ate five of them at once. I ate so much that I couldn't look at bananas for about six months after that.
After a couple of years going to the local American school, my sister and I began to speak English to each other.
We would talk about and laugh at the parents. This irritated them because they did not get what we were saying. They made a new house rule: for every English word we spoke – we would be fined one cent from our weekly allowance. They bought a white board and they kept a tally with a sharpie. My parents worked 7 days a week and on weekends, they gave us some money to have fun, go to McDonald's, or to go to an arcade. They looked at the white board and said: “Ok, so you only get this much today because this week you said this number of English words.”
Therefore, we quickly learned that it was more economical to speak Russian at home. This also helped a lot when my grandparents moved to Chicago a couple of years later. Naturally, we had to speak Russian with them, and this made our Russian language skills even better. If they did not come when they did, then our knowledge of the language would be much worse.
We would talk about and laugh at the parents. This irritated them because they did not get what we were saying. They made a new house rule: for every English word we spoke – we would be fined one cent from our weekly allowance. They bought a white board and they kept a tally with a sharpie. My parents worked 7 days a week and on weekends, they gave us some money to have fun, go to McDonald's, or to go to an arcade. They looked at the white board and said: “Ok, so you only get this much today because this week you said this number of English words.”
Therefore, we quickly learned that it was more economical to speak Russian at home. This also helped a lot when my grandparents moved to Chicago a couple of years later. Naturally, we had to speak Russian with them, and this made our Russian language skills even better. If they did not come when they did, then our knowledge of the language would be much worse.
