After the Thanksgiving dinner, my mom told Anna that she was “the only person in that family who had a normal family.” Later, Boris commented that I’d pretended that this statement was not related to us. To be honest, I heard so many things from my mom that nothing can surprise me, so although I realize that my mom meant Vlad’s family, my own family, and Igor’s absence of the family, I can happily ignore what she says.
Last week, however, I was really surprised by what she said. Actually, it was not the first time she said the same thing, but I was surprised she brought it up again. She said that she was sorry that life was so unfair to me that I didn’t have any special romantic relationships. This statement was so off the charts that it took me a lot of self-reflection not to say anything (when I told Boris about that, the look of surprise on his face was something I do not see that often:)).
My mom refers to one of her life stories when there was a person with whom she met once or twice a month for a couple of years, and they would go to the theater performance or to one of many suburban palace parks around Saint Petersburg. He also recorded lengthy messages on tape for her (she saved them, and I digitized them several years ago.) When she talks about these relationships, she proudly says that “there was no sex or anything like this” and that “nowadays, people can’t even imagine that it is possible.” I do not understand why having sexless relationships is something to be proud of and something I should regret not having. Sometimes, I really want to ask her whether she ever had a satisfying sexual life – ever. Also, I find it very difficult to understand why having six years of marriage to my father, and then having a couple of these sexless stories, and then having over ten years of secret relationships with a married man in Moscow – why this is more “normal” and better than my family life.
Family life and life in general is not about romantic escapades. It’s about building a life together, understanding each other, and supporting each other in all possible ways. I understand that when you are seventeen, you might think that love is about demonstrating your feelings, but I am long past that; even though Boris says that we are not the most rational people in the world and we do crazy things often, it’s a different kind of craziness 🙂
Actually, the thing I am most thankful for this year is how our relationships reached a new level and how we learned to appreciate each other – even more than before.
I am reading Ann Appelbaum’s Gulag, and it will be a while until I finish it, but I can tell even now that this is an amazing work that stands out among all other books I read on that subject. However, I am not going to write about this book today. This blog is about something else.
***
When I was a teenager, I thought I knew enough about the “unspeakable” part of the history of the USSR. Having almost all of my family suffered different forms of oppression starting from the 1930s and ongoing, I was more knowledgeable than most of my peers, even among the Leningrad intelligentsia. It turned out that I knew close to nothing.
For example, I didn’t know anything about Holodomor. Yes, they didn’t teach about it at school, but neither did they teach us about labor camps. My relatives and my friends’ relatives told me about the arrests and interrogations, and I read real people’s diaries, which were never published. I nobody, nobody ever mentioned anything about kulaks1 being sent to the same camps!
Now I am asking myself why people of similar upbringing (Boris seconds my recollections) and I believed that “everything started” in 1936? Or at 1935 at the earliest?
Many books and movies present a picture like this: life is peaceful and beautiful, and that’s a nice and peaceful summer evening, and nobody expects anything, and all of a sudden, here is a “black raven,” and the father is getting arrested, and children are sent to the orphanage, and everybody’s life is ruined. Why?
There was no peaceful life, and everything was already wrong; why was it OK? Did they only care when the Great Terror started to grab people of their kind?
Why did none of my peers know that orphans were sent to the concentration camp, that kulak’s families were sent to the camps? Why did their relatives never tell them? Is it that they “didn’t know” about that before they were arrested, and then these tiny facts became “less important” when measured against their own misfortunes?
Maybe some of them didn’t know. But not all of them.
My grandfather was always portrayed as an “honest Chekist2” by my family members. Yet, his professional career started in the early 1920s when he was in Turkestan3, “fighting with Basmachi4.” That’s when he got his first stars. Did he not know? I doubt it.
Yesterday morning, I thought about what I believed I read in his file (the part of it which I own). I was frightened when I thought I didn’t remember where it was, but I finally found it.
The writing below is a draft of the “Characteristic” written by a famous Soviet movie producer, Ermler, as a testimony about my grandfather’s moral character.
That was a part of the rehabilitation effort, which resulted in acknowledging his innocence. Here is what “the master of Soviet propaganda” writes:
The resistance of our enemies was tremendous, and Chekists, like Dombrovsky, were on the front line of this struggle. They bravely fought with our enemies, smashed them, and built a new society.
My conversations with Dombrovsky were of great help to me since he often gave me good advice and helped me to correct my course. For example, I produced my movie “The Farmers” under his influence. He was very insistent in his demands to produce a film about the struggle with kulaks. He explained to me that this was one of the most important issues and that revealing the animal nature of kulaks to the public.
So he knew. And moreover, he was a part of it.
***
In the middle of the 1990s, when new parts of this forbidden history started to emerge here and there, my grandfather’s name started to appear in the press more and more often, mostly, however, in connection with my grandmother, who was a subject of many pieces of avantgarde poetry in the late 20s- early 30s. I remember one article (the whole newspaper page) in which the author speculated that since my grandfather was jealous because of this massive amount of love poetry and because he was a Chekist, it was he who ordered all these poets to be arrested. I told it back then, and I am repeating it now: this was 100% not true, and nobody who knew what the actual relationships between these people would ever think of any of that.
I asked my father why he didn’t protest. Why didn’t he write anything in response (in those days, objections were taken seriously.) I asked him why he would let this disgrace keep going. He replied: “You know, everybody had blood on their hands. Some up to the wrists, and some up to the elbows, that’s the only difference.” I hated his reply. I thought that he just didn’t want to get into the fight and backed out. And I promptly forgot about this conversation (as a coping mechanism.)
I recalled it recently. My father was a horrible person, and there are many things he has done that I will never forgive him. However, he was brutally honest about the past. He had no admiration for Solzhenitsyn, and he knew more about his father than he ever told me. I know that in the mid-50s, he was allowed to see his father’s file in the archive. He was not allowed to make copies or take notes, but he saw it. And he never told me anything about what he saw.
***
From multiple conversations with my greataunt, I have a pretty good idea about what people thought back then. They believed one can “bring happiness on the tips of bayonnets.” Still, I can’t understand why they were so ignorant.
My ignorance, multiplied by the ignorance of the previous generations, made the current state of Russia possible. Not only mine, but many of “us.” What’s done can’t be undone, but it’s important to acknowledge what was done. The only way to ensure this will never happen again is to understand precisely how it happened.
1 – Farmers who refused to join collective farms or were a little bit better off than others
2– A person who served in the “CheKa – “Extraordinary Commission”, the secret police.
3 – The Middle Asia Region established in the mid-19th century as a part of Russian Empie (link here).
4– The anti-Russian resistant movement in Turkestan (link here)
Recently, somebody asked me whether it is true that life in the US has “nothing in common” with life in Europe, regardless of the country. I generally agree with that, although one can say that all countries are unique. But I still stand with the statement that the first time you come to the US, especially if you do not come as a tourist, the “differenceness” strikes!
The differences are very pronounced in virtually all areas of life, but today, I wanted to talk about just one aspect, which was touched upon in the blog post that triggered the original question (is it too long a chain of references :)?)
That initial blog post described philanthropy, volunteering, and charity in general in the US and how people of different walks of life, not necessarily extremely well off, give their time and money, establish trusts, fund medical research, etc. That always prompts admiration and excitement in my European friends, who tell me there are not that many volunteering opportunities in their countries.
Although I also admire my fellow citizens’ drive for volunteering and giving in general, I often think that, at least in part, it is a natural reaction to the lack of governmental support for many causes. For example, when I am in Finland, I see practically no unhoused people on the streets. I know that that’s not because they are being arrested but because the Finnish government takes appropriate measures to ensure people do not end up on the streets.
I do not even want to start talking about healthcare; I wrote enough about it. But the situation here is similar: clinics do not need to establish special funds for treating uninsured people because uninsured people do not exist.
Let’s look at the situation with refugees. And I do not even talk about the current crisis; let’s look at how things were a year ago, with the war in Ukraine in full swing and with refugees from other war zones trying to get to safer places. In the US, the situation with accepting refugees and asylum seekers is unimaginably bad (see my post here). The asylum seekers are not allowed to work; at the same time, their cases are being postponed in court for months and years. None of them would survive if they would follow the letter of the law.
At the same time, there are multiple volunteering organizations that have over a hundred years of history of helping the asylum seeker. These organizations provide basic benefits, enroll people in community college classes, and help with housing. We, as a country, have enough resources, and I am wondering why we can’t direct them where they are needed, why there is no straight path for the asylum seekers, why they are not allowed to work – and many other “whys.”
During his speech on Veteran’s Day, President Biden said: “We are the only nation in the world built on ideas, not on the territory.” I do not think that this statement is entirely accurate, but I agree with the idea: people have been coming to the US because they have certain values and ideas on how things should work. And this has both good and bad consequences.
I love this country dearly, but there are many things I wish I could fix. I am not sure they are fixable, though, and I am sure there will be more things to fix after that :).
I am still thinking about feeling happy. The book “Happiness Falls” gave an extra boost to these thoughts, but regardless of the book, I think about it quite often.
Today, I was working on a problem I’ve been working on for the past several days (whenever I was not involved in putting up fires). At some point, I moved my gaze away from the screen, looked in the direction of the window, and thought: how lucky I am! How fortunate I am! I know it seems like an improbable thought in the middle of an intense workday, but the feeling was very pronounced. I am sitting at my desk in a beautiful office, surrounded by smart people, doing the job I passionately love, making good money, and doing tons of other things I enjoy doing. Even with Anna’s knee injury and my mom’s ongoing situation, nobody has any life-threatening diseases.
I don’t know whom to thank, but I do not think I will ever take everything I have for granted. Feeling grateful makes me an even happier person. Also, it’s a constant reminder about how many people are less fortunate than I am.
I had a thought recently. I know that there are people who want homeless persons “out of sight – out of mind.” They do not want to be disturbed by unpleasant pictures, and I sort of understand what’s going on in their minds. I thought there were even more disparities one hundred and fifty years ago. And I am wondering, how did rich people feel walking down State Street and seeing all these disparities worse than nowadays? How could they be happy?…
Same as my last weekend, I liked that I didn’t have to rush through the evening. My workdays are such that I am completely focused on what I am doing, and I often need to literally solve several problems in parallel. I love the excitement of chasing the problem and fixing it, and I also like these intense sessions of design when you go through several solutions, try one, go through code building, find design flaws, discard and start over. However, this leaves you completely drained even if you do not work long hours.
I like to fit a lot in my day, but it also takes an ingenuity to take a day (or night) as it goes, having an agenda, but not necessarily a timeline.
The last weekend was good, and the week that followed was also good, but now I am facing a challenge of making it through the rest of the year without a crisis.
That is another post that I should have written a week ago, and I pretty much wrote it in my head, but that was the day we traveled to Milwaukee, and then life took over.
October 22, 1996, was the day when I (together with Vlad and Anna) came to the US, and our very first day in the US is described here. Last week, Boris and I recalled this day twenty-seven years ago, and I asked him whether he really thought at that time that his life was over. He said that that was the case, which made me wonder for the hundredth time why we were such idiots. Boris disagrees :). He says that we were just uninformed. Possibly, but each time I think about what lies ahead, and each time I think that I’ve planned everything perfectly, I recall how, in the fall of 1996, both Boris and I were so sure that everything important in our lives had happened…
While waiting for a morning train, I overheard the conversation on the platform. The conversation was about when each person planned to retire, whether they wanted to retire at all, and what they would do when they retired. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, I was surprised that people who participated in the conversation talked only about leisure, whether they will do cruises, golfing, or something else, and how the years of retirement should be the years of having fun.
Then, one of them commented on someone he knew who “didn’t want to retire because he would have to spend all the time with his wife at home.”
I can relate to that:). With all my love and everything, you need to be out of the house doing something else for a good part of the day. And you need to do something. I am sure I will have lots of fun traveling, doing cultural things, and such, but I am also anticipating all the possibilities of doing more volunteering, such as escorting on the weekdays and going to ODS at least once a week. Too often, I feel like I can’t drop any activity I am participating in (or want to participate in), and then I am not doing any of them well enough. So, I often think that I should limit the things I do even more and then return to them when I retire.
Possibly the reason others don’t believe me when I say that I will retire at 67 is that they can’t imagine me not doing something. But I have plans!
Last week, Boris was in Barcelona for his conference, and sure, there were many conversations about the war, about Russia, the world, aid for Ukraine, and all related. Since this conference was very European and initially Eastern European, the conversations were deep and serious, not like the casual conversation with “preset” opinions we (unfortunately) often have here in the US.
One thing that surprised me was that people asked him, “Why does Putin keep fighting despite massive manpower losses?” Naturally, Boris answered, “Because, at least for the past thousand years, Russia never counted men’s losses when fighting.” I was still surprised that those who asked didn’t know the answer as if Russia ever gave any reason to doubt it. Still, they asked why people in Russia do not protest when the losses are so massive and why they don’t protest in general.
Again, I could at least partially understand such questions at the beginning of the war, but I am surprised people are still asking them.
Also, when replying to somebody about a “peaceful solution,” Boris cited our friend with whom we had this discussion in Berlin last fall: If not for Ukraine, Russian tanks would already be in Berlin. Not in Estonia. In Berlin.
The positive thing is that in Europe, the war didn’t move to the background…
I recently read Steven King’s 11-22-63. Steven King is not “my” author (and not out of any snobbishness, just not mine). I took on this reading because it was recommended by a friend whom I usually trust in book recommendations. While it’s still not “my” book and not a book “about me,” I really liked it and enjoyed reading from the very first to the very last page.
Firstly, I really enjoyed it as an excellent piece of literature ( And now, I won’t be able to read ok-ish books for a while :)) Second, (and that’s why I decided to write about it today) – I find the whole sci-fi part of it very realistic. The theme of “the past does not want to be changed” resonates with me on many levels.
Never in my life have I wished that “something didn’t happen” or “if only I could go back and correct something.” I know that everything that happened before today made me the person I am now, and it is often impossible to tell what won’t happen if I do things “properly” at some point in my life. I am so sure that correcting the past can’t work that I never had even a temptation to think about it.
On the other hand, as much as I am always in control of my life and know that things won’t happen by themselves if I don’t make them happen, I also recognize when the Universe does not want something to happen.
My London trip cancellation was a perfect example. I didn’t have COVID before, even when I was in the presence of clearly infected people, so having it from an unknown source right before my trip was a sign :). And then, when I started to calculate the dates and try to figure out whether I could still make it, came a loud and clear “no.” As much as I dreaded clicking the “Cancel the Entire Trip” button, that’s what it meant to be.
There is no specific reason to make this random photo a birthday photo. I just thought that I needed to post something different from my usual two tiny babies and me. At least, I think Anna can relate :).
Happy birthday, my extraordinary twins!
***
I used to think that Boris was not involved enough in Vlad’s and Anna’s early years, and it might be objectively so, but he often remembers things that I had forgotten.
Last week, he asked me whether I remember Vlad’s “very important question.” He said that Vlad was about eight or nine years old then, but I still can’t recall the episode. Maybe it was during the summer of 2000 when I started my consulting job, and Boris was without any job and didn’t move to Finland yet, and babysat Vlad and Anna.
According to Boris, Vlad walked into the room and announced that he had a very important question, and his whole future depended on the answer. He knew that “grown-ups don’t play with toys,” and he worried what would happen if he still loved playing with his toys when he grew up :).
Hettie's Reflections 