Аннотация: English version of the story "Дважды иммигрант"
Double immigrant
(Former and to prospective immigrants must read!)
1
Once again footage of disturbances in the occupied territories played on the television. Young masked Palestinians waved their arms angrily, burning Israeli flags and yelling threatening slogans.
-Oh, some people...these...Palestinians and our left-wing journalists, - sighed Misha Lander, lazily scratching his belly and with a philosophical smile, looked at his wife.
- In a week when we prevent them from working in Israel they will cry in front of the cameras, screaming that they have small children to feed and begging for some work.
-Yeah it's a problem. - replied Klava evasively.
- Yes! It is a problem. Let's just pack our bags and immigrate to Canada. - He said ironically. - By the way, recently, there was a guy from our structural department, packed up and left.
-Left where?
-Toronto, it seems. He said that he was going to the center of the country, close to Tel-Aviv, and then called Arkadi Palchik from overseas and asked him to convey his greetings to all. Hmm... Beautiful... Ha! What a fucking perfect conspirator. I really don't understand what his problem is. Why can't he just be honest with everybody and tell us the truth before quitting? What do you have to lose?! Some people just love cheap effects! Klava, I'm sure you remember him. He has gray hair and a mustache.
-No, no...I really don't remember him.
-Well, do you remember the office party last year? He spoke of his special diet. Then he told you that when he arrived in Israel, he started off as a construction worker. And once the foreman, without looking at the construction drawings, began telling him what to do, but our friend looked at the drawings and started arguing with the foreman, telling him that it was all wrong and that he had designed things a hundred times more complex than this. And the foreman, a Moroccan, replied: "Well, if you're an engineer, then what the hell are you doing working as a construction worker? Kid, you should be working in an office." Our friend then thought: indeed, what am I doing here? So he turned around and came to work with us as a structural engineer. How do you like this legend? If it weren't the foreman, our dear friend would have never even thought of looking for an engineering job.
-Oh, Mikhailovski Leva. Of course I remember him. So what?
-So nothing. What?
-Well, find out how they're doing over there.
-I think they're doing well. Not too hot, green all around, rich country, and there's work to be had unlike in Israel... Not to mention, I don't have his e-mail or phone number, so there.
-So, ask your friend Palchik.
-Klava, did I not understand something? I thought I just told you ...
-You thought wrong! - said Misha's wife with a look of determination in her eyes, - time is running out, not to mention that soon our children will be drafted into the army.
- Klava, what are you talking about?! You want to immigrate again! We only just started to have a quiet, good life. We finally learned the language and just bought our own condo ... And now what, ten years down the drain just to start it all over again? How many lives do you think you have?! I can't waste an entire lifetime on immigrations!
-My children are much more important than this quiet life. - It was clear that Klava was not joking. It was now obvious that she had been preparing for this conversation for a quite a while.
-Oh really? Do you think I can approach Arkadi just like that?! Everyone will realize that we are considering Canada. You know people... They already suspect that he is moonlighting for the Canadian consulate. Use your head! What do you think will happen if the management at work suddenly discovers that I have taken an interest in Canada? If a round of lay offs rolls around, I am their first candidate!
-Hmm, aren't you funny? You just laughed at Mikhalovski, called him a "conspirator", but look at yourself! You're even afraid to ask.
It all started from this conversation. There was no end to the abuse Misha inflicted on himself in the aftermath. But Klava pressed him in earnest. All of his arguments about the difficulties of immigration, finding at least some kind of work, the problems of learning English, and the stress on the children, -all broke on the dead wall of Klava's silence.
-I'm 39 years old, and when we arrive to Canada, I will be over forty. Two immigrations in a single life ... I already have high blood pressure and I am overweight ...,- Lander hoped to soften her.
-So slim down! Your blood pressure will drop with your weight, - Klava answered curtly.
Lander was a typical Moldavian Jew, who have received an education in the province and accidentally found a job in Saint-Petersburg. In his youth, he was lean and strong, loved sport, but with age became lazy and fat. Springs of curly hair, once stubbornly sticking out in different directions, at the age of forty partially turned gray, and fell out. The main features of his character were sociability and simplicity. However, despite all his good humor and openness, he was a big skeptic. In addition to his skepticism -which he vaguely called analytical thinking- Misha was also a very indecisive person. After university, when he got to Saint-Petersburg, he was quickly promoted, for being a cheerful guy but more importantly, for being a person without pretensions.
He married at once, without even having time to understand what actually happened. On one of his visits back to his provincial home town, while at his mother's shop -she was the best dressmaker in the city- he met a client's daughter, who as you might have guessed, was Klava. While the client was being fitted for the dress, Misha was asked to take care of the guest who was ten years younger and had just graduated from medical college. He chatted with her for about twenty minutes, hoping that the fitting would end soon so that he could leave to hang out with his buddies. But his father had different intentions. He led him into the kitchen and asked him directly:
-Well, what do you think about Klava?
-She's a good girl, - Misha's blurted out without thinking.
-Good girl?! Hmm ... No, son, you do not understand ... She is a beautiful girl! Clever and nice! From a very good family ... Misha, ask her to go out with you tonight. Make your father happy...
The fact that he already had a girlfriend in Saint Petersburg, and didn't know Klava, was not taken into consideration. So, at the age of 30, following his visit to his parents, Lander the bachelor returned to Saint Petersburg as a married man. A month later Klava came and they were given a room in the plant dormitory. Then the children were born, they got an apartment and almost became Saint Petersburgians. After that a new era started in the former Soviet Union. The iron curtain was lifted and thousands Jews decided to leave for Israel. A lot of his relatives, friends and colleagues left and the air was filled with talk of freight, visas, and how to transport valuables to the "historical" homeland. Yielding to the general panic, peer pressure, and some kind of mass hysteria or fear of being the last remaining Jews in the Soviet Union, they also decided to try their luck. From the beginning, like everyone else, it was too hard. Oppressive feelings of uncertainty and lack of money, but as it happens with all immigrants, eventually they slowly settle down and life became easy and calm. Ah, how all was well and stable before this stupid talk about Mikhalovski! But the genie was already out of the lamp, and it was impossible to put it back in. You can not plug it with a cork and throw into the raging sea with a warning note... The wheels of time had already begun their slow motion, their motion barely noticeable; they were confidently accelerating at an irreversible pace.
Lander honestly tried to fight, but after a week surrendered, cowardly saying to himself: no one is going no where, I will just talk to Palchik. But something vague and heavy had already begun to rise within him. The stability of his life was threatened by upcoming changes that were making their way insistently into his quiet existence. And he realized it himself: the never-ending war, the persistent heat which caused sweat to pour forth from his pores, coating him in sticky layers, and the annoying noise of Be'er-Sheva's (capital of Negev) streets. All this dirt and dust around, and the smell of Bedouin sweat and bonfires mixing, and the obnoxious arrogance of the natives which he could never get used to. But it is probably better in Canada. The quality of life is better, not to mention the snow, and the green forests... And it would be better for the children. Otherwise they will grow up like all the other Israelis -unable to tell the difference between being an adult and a child, forever chewing falafel in pita bread and oblivious looks on their smug faces. Free nation! Ha! They will be delighted to scratch their privates in public, they won't greet you, they won't take off their shoes when they come into the house, and will generously provide their unasked for advice. They are already starting to make fun of his accent, especially the youngest one who was born here. And then there's this military issue...
2
The next day, in the morning, Lander trying not to betray his emotion went into the structural department to Arkadi Palchik, carrying as a blind some drawing and furtively looking from side to side. He was very nervous, but hardly tried not to show it. He afraid that if he will come to Arkadi, the entire floor had stopped working and will looked at him. But return was too late.
-Arkadi, I heard what you have in Canada a lot of friends. May I ask you a few questions? - potential immigrant tried to make an indifferent face and to hide the excitement, scratched his curly head.
-In what you exactly interested in? - Arkadi Palchik turn away from the computer and looked at the Lander through the frame of the Italian fashion glasses.
-Well ... However ... Just interested. You understand, ventilate the subject it's cost me no money... Well, like, who knows what can happen... Well, you know what I mean ... Hm-m...
-Okay, come out in five minutes on the fire escape stairs on our floor, there's we can talk calmly ...
-And what a problem to talk here? - Misha looked with interest, once again looking around at the split with no high walls "cubes" of their design office.
-Hmm, - Palchik expressive squinted in the direction and touched himself on graying hair at his ear. Directors of the spy movies would die of envy, if they would see this gesture on the screen.
-Aaa ... I understand, - Lander respectfully nodded, getting up from his chair, - check that there was no "tail"? - He tried to joke.
But Arkadi, ostentatiously turned away, continuing to work.
Palchik was standing in the stairwell with not burned cigarette in his hand and gazed thoughtfully out the window. In the bright light of the Israeli sun his thin figure in tight jeans, white shirt with short sleeves and Adidas shoes, looked very intelligently. Gray hair, so unusual for his age, candid look, behind the glasses, the soft tone of voice, polite interjections of his speech - all of that immediately disposed to frankness.
-Sorry, I'm late for a couple of minutes, - Lander was breathing heavily, as a result of hiking from one floor to another, - my boss detained me...
Palchik did not react and did not even turn his head in his direction.
-You know, Misha, yesterday I was talking to Canada, - Arcadi continued to gaze thoughtfully out the window, turning not burned cigarette in hand, - it is +23 C in there. Do you even know what that means? Or we will breathe this desert dust all our life and get used to +40 C in the shade?
-Yes, +23 C is a dream, - Lander wiped sweat from his brow and scratched his impressive belly. He looked at the same point where staring Palchik, but again saw the same Negev desert, mountains, mud and stones. Wind is raised, then lowered the pieces of old newspapers and tattered plastic bags. Disgusting dust swirled a passing car in the distance, rising up and torn by strong gusts of Negev's wind. Israeli sun was shining bright, with the blue sky, without a single cloud. The sky was not just a blue, but it was bright blue. Clouds in the Negev desert, appeared in late November, and disappeared in early March. And not a single cloud nine months! Not like in his homeland, not to mention the Leningrad, where he had spent so many happy years. And this blue, like the image, sky, as a decoration of the cartoon and this scorching Be'er-Sheva sun ... All of this drove him insane. Well, he understand, there is no rain, war, dust, foreign language ..., but the clouds ... Clouds ... Why it was no clouds? He dreamed about them all nine months, until winter comes ... As a child, he lie down in the grass and watched at these floating in the sky white-gray waves or mountain, behind which hid bizarre animals and other fantastic characters.
-Yes, +23 C it just fantastic, - with envy repeated Lander, again wiping the sweat from forehead, and looked at Palchik, waiting to continue.
-The people there are walking in the green parks around flowing streams and singing birds, green trees and green grass, as we have in Moscow. There on the streets is clean, because people have a culture! They do not throw garbage on the ground, but for some reason use the garbage bins. Hmm. Hmm, yes, - Arkadi continued to look at the same point beyond the window, - these people celebrate a New Year, but not Hanukkah. By the way, in winter it snows, if you still remember what it is. And when you have a lot of snow and tree branches become heavy, they sink so low that you can touch their by hands ... Are we and our children will look at this desert all my life?
-Arkadi, why are you keeping cigarette? If I not mistaken, you do not smoke, - Lander finally waked up, and interrupted the flight of Palchik thought.
-Well, you never know, suddenly, someone will walk up the stairs, and I am here alone... And with cigarette it will looks like I came out for smoke.
-Kind of constipation?
-Caution - mother of luck! - Arkadi suddenly openly smiled, as a child, but then he pulled himself back and went seriously, - there is stunning nature. Just wow! Lakes, berries, mushrooms, ducks, squirrels, geese, deer ... And it's not somewhere in the woods, it is in a park near the house! The forest, by the way, is almost the same as we had near Moscow ...
-And how there about the job? - Lander timidly tried to turn the conversation from the emotional surface to the specific tracks.
-Job? What job? - Palchik reluctantly turned away from the window and looked with an annoyance at his companion. Making a particular effort, he bitterly returned from snowing Moscow to the solar capital of the Negev.
-What so complicated? Job! Where people working. I mean earning the money.
-A-a-a. H-m-m... You talking about this... Misha, you must remember not where you're going, but from where! It's like a difference between strategy and tactic. Understand?
-No. I mean, yes. Well, here, for example, your friends in Canada, they are settled?
-Ha! What are you talking about!? They even had a choice where to go. Not like here ... in this shit! If you're found the job here, in this chaos, then find the job in Canada - not a question!
-Yeah, but..., yes ... But you do understand that without the work isn't fun ... And all these parks in the snow or squirrels with the ducks do not make you happy until there you have nothing to devour.
-Well, so live here quietly, as you lived before, - condescendingly, as a father, smiled Palchik, - I have many friends who moved from Israel to Canada. Everyone says that after "an Israeli school of survival", Canada looks as a resort.
-No, I would just like to collect maximum information. At least some guarantees.
-Guarantees? I can give you only one guarantee, - Arkadi philosophical jabbed his forefinger into the floor, - in 40 years, six feet underground. It is the only one guarantee place.
-Ha, nice, - Lander with respect smiled, - well, and if anyway you can not find the job as an engineer? Get welfare?
-What so difficult to understand?! All in fact depends on you! It's a free country there! For example, some of my friends, who used to live in Israel, now in Vancouver, pay for some woman 400 bucks a month, just because she picked up their son after school to her home for three hours, excluding weekends and holidays. According to Canadian law, children under 12 years are not eligible to stay at home alone. If someone snitched and you will be catch - you in a deep shit! The government takes child away and opens criminal case against you. And very often you could be deported.
-H-m-m... I think you went too far, - Misha nervously tugged at his neck, - listen to you, so if I'm on the street try to pass on red, they will sent to the prison for ten years with confiscation.
-I do not know about that, but I tell you what I was told. So, this woman takes 10 children and it is easy to calculate, even without computer, 10 multiplied by $ 400 - here you go four thousand a month, with no taxes! Not so bad money for 3 hours. Misha, how much you earn per month?
-Well, about two and a half thousand dollars...
-Deduct taxes, we are coming to 1500! And it is for 8 hours of engineering work! But she is getting 4000 just for three hours and without a headache! And note, cars and gasoline in Canada is twice cheaper, but appliances even in three times!
-Nice... M-m-m ... Why they didn't open the similar business in Israel?
-Well, at ... This ... N-y... They are both programmers and had enough money.
-So why are they not working as programmers there?
-Well, at ... She has a little baby. Why should she pay to someone?
-But in Israel she paid...
-You know, in Israel it was awkward to ask her mother in-law... They had some family frictions. If honestly, I do not really remember. But how it connected to the Canada?
-Well, OK, I understand. But how is she collecting all ten children after school? Are they all in the same school is?
-I guess yes... I didn't check all details...
-Probably she has a bus?
-No, I guess... Where did you get it?
-How she could be able to drive ten children in one load? Regular car will take five people...
-Well, maybe she is ... two times ... - hesitantly replied Palchik.
-So, while she will make a second raid, the previous five left unattended?
-What are you clinging to the words? I'm not interested in all procedure! You are always peddling in small things! Anyway, meanwhile you are sitting here, you never would know what going on in the reality. As people say: if you sitting on the bank you never learn to swim. There is not only a different climate, there you have different people. On the streets, for example, nobody horns!
-How it could be?
-Very simple! Let say, it seems to you that somebody drives slowly. You horned. Dude calling to police. There will be witnesses to confirm that you horned. Policeman is writes the report. Dude takes a lawyer, who proves that because tone of your sound signal his client was frightened, not sleeping at night, urinating under himself, can not work well, and so on. Shortly, you will pay him until his death. But on the streets you can ride normally. Not like in this Israel!
-Are you serious?! And all of this happens just because somebody horned?
-Well, yes. What a problem?
-So I can on purpose drive slowly. And according your version half of Toronto will pay me compensation?
-Well, at ... I just gave you an example. I understand that if you sitting here, it is hard to believe, but this is what people tell me. And with the employment everything all right there, especially for immigrants. Local generally not want to work. In Toronto, for example, according to statistics, live 3 millions people. If you subtract 700 thousands gays and lesbians, after that 1 million blacks and Indians (on welfare), 600 thousands pensioners, who already senile and does not understand anything, add 150 thousands registered in mental houses and drug clinics, which also grasps with difficulties. Plus Toronto has 300 thousands firefighters and police officers, 50 thousand government workers and members of various parliaments, which ponder not much more than those in mental houses. Remains exactly 300 thousands people - this is, those immigrants who on their backs pulling this obese Canada forward. All Russian businesses there are most successful, except those who already bankrupt, which in reality, turns out, most profitable.
-How come? Something too complicated, - Misha looked at a part-time representative of the Canadian immigration services.
-Very simple, - Palchik paternal condescendingly smiled, - I'm telling you, there everything works differently. Not like here! Except of a couple of Russian supermarkets all the others engaged in insurance, car maintenance and real estate. You bought a house with me, and I'll insure you. And we'll sell him a condo, and then insure, and for this he will fix our car. Therefore, in Toronto, these, who lives in expensive houses, usually riding on reliable cars. Everything is easy and logical.
-Beautiful ... But somehow not quite clear ...
-And do you know how people resting in Canada? Twice a year, traveling to the Caribbean, eat and drink even without leaving the pool.
-Wow! What about a toilet? - decided to joke potential immigrants, but immediately wipe out his smile after severe stern look of a consultant.
-If here you can afford to go to a restaurant once a year, and there, for example, you dine in the restaurant every day. Do not go to a restaurant just or a very lazy or very rich. People no longer thinking what to eat, all only think how to lose the weight. Fancy diets ...
-Aha. Then I understand why they are going to the restaurants. Anyway, they do not eat. At home really difficult to control yourself. You know how my wife deliciously cooking. And folk coming to the restaurant, see the prices and immediately recall that they are on a diet. Ha-ha. I have nothing to say. Beautiful!
-Well, Lander, if you know everything, so why are you asking me? I have to work, we already spoke...
-I'm sorry. Sorry ... I was only joking. Don't take it personally. Okay, what going on with housing. I mean not first-class accommodation, just regular houses.
-You mean for investment?
-Well, I mean buy.
-Aaa ... In Canada now, just the real estate market on the rise. One my acquaintance was there a realtor ...
-Who?
-Well, generally speaking, this is an agent for the sale and purchase of real estate, but in reality are serious financial issues and coordination involved ...
-Do you mean middleman?
-No. It's not like in Israel! Middleman simply sells apartments. It is in English they called it broker. Feel the difference? And he is realtor! This is absolutely different level. He helps with loans and lawyers, and... How you even can compare with middleman, hmm!
-Aha. So what?
-So, this guy started with a simple business. Bought any house not in the best condition, and employs a team of builders for a week or two. They are painted, touched up, greased and aired properly. In a couple of weeks it is up for sale again. Minimum profit is 20 thousand per house. Then him with his wife begun this business together, because he alone was overloaded to manage all these arrangements: meetings, sales, lowers etc. Roughly they are buy-sell ten houses per month. They came home tired, not even had time to watch TV. And all this hard work they did without weekends and holidays. And so almost two years! Shortly, they developed this business tremendously! And now they practically do not work. They hired project manager, and today only once a month sign a checks. Recently, they bought under-construction condo. As wholesalers have a decent discount and now they sell it to retailers. They just wrote the price list, put the girl with 10 dollar per hour salary, to show the apartment and answer customer's questions. The project manager follows up the process and money goes directly to their account.
-Arkadi, something doesn't work out. If it's so easy, why his project manager can not open similar business by himself?
-You know, Canadians not used to work hard.
-And how they build so strong and rich country? Maybe I'm wrong, but the mass immigration to Canada started just 30 years ago.
-Well, at ... Maybe he has no money to start ...
-And your friends, where they got the money? Not so bad...In Toronto buy multi-storey house!
-I already explained to you. From the beginning they bought a house, and then sold. Got some profit and again invested in real estate. By the way, they still rent an apartment, because all the money invested in the business.
-What?! According your recap I understood that they are not just the millionaires, but these... Well, how to say ... O! Wildly rich and can afford to buy at least a temporary house.
-Honestly, me either not quite understood why they didn't buy. Maybe they are builds a villa with a swimming pool? One thing I can tell you for sure: while we are sitting here and count other people's money - these people earning them there.
-Yes, that's for sure ... Arkadi, and what you yourself do not immigrate to Canada?
-Am I?
-Yes, you. I think you are sent there so many people that if each of those guys give you only 10 dollars, you may not work until the retirement. And I heard that if in the Canadian Embassy saying that you from Palchik, they even do not call you at the interview. Is it true? - Misha smiled and friendly touched Arcadi's shoulder, letting him know that he understands who's really cool.
-No, you will get a citizenship right away. Ha-ha-ha. Good joke. Sharp and funny! Yeah ... Frankly speaking, all my documents are ready for Canada, only the date should be stamped. Unfortunately my wife does not want to go. Says that in Israel her parents, and then again to learn the language. But I still continue to work in this direction.
-Where I will take money for immigration? After all, it is not cheap procedure...
-Well what I can tell, Mr. Lander... You can sell your red "Ferrari" and refuse eating oysters, macerated in French cognac, you probably doing it each evening.
-No, well, I'm serious.
-You are serious? And what do you want? Or maybe you expect that in the one evening Consul of Canada will knocked to your door, and said: "Dear Mr. Lander, here are all visas and required documents. Only correctly enter your name and sign it." You are really funny! Well, I would understand if you will be a big manager with a personal car or, say, co-owner of our company. You even have nothing to lose! You are here for ten years. Wake up, Michael, ten! You even have no car! And what did you see? And what are you earned? If you even have no money for relocation. How many times are you visited restaurant? I will help you! You are visiting restaurant once a year when our company going to celebrate New Year. Okay, I have to go... Well, if you will have some specific questions, do not be shy, come over.
3
In the evening, after putting the kids to bed, Lander in detail retell to his wife the conversation in the stairwell, providing his spicy comments, mixed with sharp jokes. Eating fresh pita with garlic hummus, which he finally liked, Misha professionally played one-man show, in turns, putting masks on different characters.
-If shortly, all his stories - nice wraped shit on the stick, - good-naturedly finished his story potential immigrant, and put in the mouth next piece of pita with great pleasure, - pure kinder garden, even nothing to discuss. This shmuck Arkadi, wide known immigration specialist, pensively looking out the window and philosophizing. For example: you must remember not where you're going, but from where! Or this fraise: Guarantees are only six feet under the ground! Local Socrates. Diogenes just rest aside. Cicero nervously crying! And in his honest eyes you can read the responsibility for all Soviet Jews, who suffering in the historical homeland! And this clown, still have no license as a professional engineer and license to drive a car. He is working as a draftsman! And all in his stories so beautiful and nice... Bullshit for children! You know in Canada, dollars are growing on the trees, only stretch your hand. Ha-ha. And Canadian so lazy and just waiting when a new immigrants will come and pick up those money for them. Well, Palchik, Palchik... Well, empty talker. But if you dig a little bit deeper - all the bullshit. He does not know the details... If you ask the additional questions no common sense, no logic ... So, the theoretical talk and fantasy. But on the top of his stories huge motto: You must go! And go now! O-ho-ho. Clown-amateur, - eventually finished his story Zionist Lander.
-What about Mikhalovski? - asked Klava impatiently, very sluggishly response to his jokes.
-Oh, you are right! Now the story about Leva Mikhaloski. He had just arrived to Canada, while they waited for the luggage, he went to the washroom. Peeing quietly... And then some guy standing next to him, and doing the same. And then suddenly he is asking Leva: Excuse me, do you accidentally not a structutral engineer? I immediately realized with whom I was dealing with, just saw how you exactly put the jet. I'm looking for guy like you! What do you think about 100 thousand for start? And Leva...
-Misha, what a rubbish! - the first time in the past two weeks Klava smiled.
-A-ah! Do you not believe me? Wow! And to Arkadi ravings you somehow believe.
-Okay. Did you take Leva's phone number?
-No... Palchik refused... Became so stubborn... All contacts have to go only through him. I'm seriously asking: Is Leva work? He told me that supposedly offered him two positions. First place - it is higher salary, but all the Russian-speaking and no prospects. And in another company, the salary is not a fountain, but you can pick up English and eventually much more prospects. Honestly, I'm not so believe to Arkady ...
-Ok. I got it, - Klava got up and began clearing away the dishes from the table, - I'm not really care believe you to him or not believe ... And all Palchik's stories could be for children or for handicaps, and he may be shmuck, or a clown... I'm absolutely not interested to analyze it. But you, my dear, you're going on the next weekend in Tel Aviv, taking necessary immigration forms and begin to fill.
-What forms? Are you insane?! I'm barely know English!
-Fine. We will start from tomorrow. I already bought some books and CDs. So check what a documents are needed, what kind of medical exams or whatever. And this conversation is over, - with these words Klava firmly closed the fridge and not even glancing at her husband went to bed.
And after this conversation all rolled standard route. Fill out the immigration forms was not so terrible, Lander found some friends who shared real information and gave wise advices. Somebody gave them the instructions how to pass an interview, advised regarding training courses in English, showed where translate all necessary documents etc. It was relatively easy and did not bother to his life. At some point, Palchik, apparently convinced of the seriousness of Misha's intentions, graciously gave him Leva's E-mail. Lander wrote a great letter, which asked a lot of specific questions, told about his status and asked as soon as possible to give detailed answers. The answer came only a week later. Lander eagerly opened the letter: "Hi Misha. Bravo! I'm happy that you decided to leave. Here everything fine. Roads in Toronto exactly like in Moscow, broken-down with holes and smoke. Don't worry, just come here and on the spot you will see. Nature is beautiful. Here, see what a nice sight I have out of my window. Bye." To the letter was attached a photo of a beautiful view of the industrial city with looming on the horizon CN Tower, a symbol of Toronto. Speechless Lander leaned back in his chair. And is it all? On his three-page letter, Mikhailovski sent to him back three lines of some nonsense, and this stupid image... Maybe he did not understand? Yes! Of course! He simply did not understand. "New" immigrant copied the previous letter, and added another half-page, on which he again begged to answer the previous questions, and at the same time on a couple of new ones. A week passed, then the second, but the answer did not come. At work, Lander, incidentally, asked Palchik:
-Did you receive some E-mails from Leva last time?
-This morning. He sent me some jokes. Why?
-Nothing, everything is fine. In general, it is not important.
Misha never got any answer. Also Leva's telephone number didn't answer as well. Misha get offended. Rather, the definition "offended", this is wasn't quite the right word. He was literally insulted and extremely rare, in spite of his peaceful and very good-natured character.
-Well, yes... Of course, who am I to him? - he bitterly complained to his wife, - he already settled down, probably bought the house ... He is from Moscow. Aristocrat! From the capital! Not like us! He probably afraid that these Moldavian Jews would fall down on his head, and even could ask to sleep over... If I will meet him in Toronto, I even do not shake his hand!
-Why do you boiling?- a conciliatory smile Klava, - you're not check e-mails for weeks. Recall how you answered to your own relatives. Mikhalovski did not deceive you, do not owe you anything, did not disappoint...
-Yes! Sure! This is because of him we are started all this immigration process! You just heard that he left to Canada...
-Oh, I was going to talk with you about this subject, but Leva was an excuse. I still don't understand why are you so upset?
-Because! I should learn English, - Lander opened the English course to whichever page and pretended that absorbed in reading.
The immigration process was accelerated. That's already an interview, a reference from the police about a criminal past and medical exam became traversed path. Then one evening, returning home ahead of time, Misha has found a large envelope, which distinctly did stick out from the mailbox. The envelope was from the Canadian Embassy. What is it? Is it visas? Perhaps it is an official denial? His heart started beat too often, it became difficult to breathe. On shaking legs, he barely got on the third floor, with trembling hands opened the front door and put the envelope on the coffee table in the hallway. Then he wildly felt dizziness, became dry in the mouth and suddenly started intolerable paint in temples. The dark grey cloud slowly started to cover his eyes. It was a last thing what he remembered...
When he opened his eyes, he saw a man in a white robe, then Klava and children. His head still was hurt ...
-Well, you see, he already better, - the doctor casually glanced at a cardiogram, and took the stethoscope turned to Klava, - it looks to me that it is not a stroke or heart attack and seizure has passed, but I very strongly recommend to visit your family doctor for check-up. As you understand, healthy people do not lose their consciousness. Your husband was lucky because children were home. Otherwise...
After the doctor left Klava heavy sighed and rubbed Misha on pale cheek.
-Sorry Misha... It was my fault... I pushed you too hard... Maybe we have to leave this immigration shit behind us? Maybe this is a sign? Let return to normal life without looking an adventure on our ass. Health is more important.
-Envelope, - with weak voice said Lander.
-What envelope?
-Did you open the envelope?
-Misha, are you okay?
-From the Embassy, it lies on the table...
-Hell with this envelope! Tomorrow you will go to the doctor!
-Yes, I'll go, I'll go, - Misha nervously waved his hand, almost completely coming to normal, - let's open. Let's see what in there.
The envelope was opened. These were the long-awaited visas to Canada. And flywheels revolved more rapidly, like a crescendo, quickly increasing volume and tempo. They have to sale their condo, furniture, look for some friends of the friends overseas, to help rent an apartment in Toronto, book air flight tickets, take a pile of certificates from school and so on.
The sale of apartments Lander explained as a desire to improve their living conditions, which in general, did not arouse any particular staff suspicions. Subsequent dismissal, he explained as a sincere desire to move to the center of the country, close to Tel Aviv and Mediterranean Sea, because doctor recommended more swim activities to the children. On the easiest question why his children can't swim in the pool, he always did sad face and hardly sighed: They are allergic to bleach. Of course, his legend had a lot of discrepancies and inconsistencies, but because all usually listen in a half ear, burdened with their own concerns and not specifically analyze the information received, then all went quite smoothly. Even if he will say that he was going to the Moon, his former colleagues probably would react the same way.
Airplane monotone buzzed, slowly gaining the height, like a bee, which overeat nectar and lazily flying back to their hive. Lander again checked whether properly fasten the children and wearily leaned back in his chair.
-Klava, do you know to whom I first call from Canada?
-Your Mom?
-No. I'll call to Palchik and ask him to convey greetings to all my colleges from overseas.
-Oh. You like a child. Well, why do you need it?
-Just want to do it. On principle, - with these words he satisfied closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep with a happy smile on his face.
4
Canada met Lander's family very friendly. It was June. The air temperature was actually +23 C, it was bright sun and on the sky floated white clouds. Everywhere grew green grass and some trees were in bloom. Passing through the endless corridors of Pearson airport, Misha was amazed - quantity of garbage cans and almost sterile clean floors without a single piece of paper. Walking in the crowd of arrivals, Lander suddenly felt himself not comfortable. Something was bothering him ... First of all, for such big crowd it was amazingly quiet. In Israel, in ten times smaller number of people makes a hundred times more noise, and here just kind of ominous silence. Even all children, including his own, behaved surprisingly calm. Secondly, all were smiling to each other, robotically repeat: "Excuse me, let me please, etc." Clashing in a tight spots, all again with a polite smile let to each other right to go first.
Immigration and other formalities susceptibly were done very quickly. Despite their poor English, all people around relatively good understood them and constantly smiling again!
-Did you see it, Klava, maybe they mixed me with someone else? - Misha winked his wife, with a good mood, - just like in the movies. Welcome to Canada, sir. Sir, these brochures will help you for the first time. By the way, maybe I look like a Canadian president? Ah?
-No, they just see that you're came with me, - defiantly replied Klava with difficulty restraining a smile of happiness on her face, - and in Canada, by the way, no president, just prime minister.
-Never mind. People too polite...
-Maybe Palchik already called. Remember you told me that who comes from him has a special program.
-Ha. Perfect. It remains that Michalovski will met us at the exit with a flowers and I could wake up.
The taxi driver, a Pakistanian, with a turban on his head, gravely smiling, helped load the luggage into the car and looked at the handed address and nodded understandingly. Some friends of friends, with whom Misha exchanged letters in advance, helped them to rent an apartment in the same building where they rented by themselves.
The apartment was located on the 25-th floor, that after Beer-Sheva four-store houses seemed gigantic. They didn't have enough time to examine the view from the window, because was dark already, but the burning sea of lights and view at the night city, was spell and amazing. It all started not so bad. New friends even went with them to the nearest supermarket and gave some practical advices. During the shopping they also provided some info regarding English courses, opening a bank account, registering children in school, etc.
Landers first night slept on the floor, but they are were not discouraged. Even it brought a further element of romance and adventure in their first impression on Canadian soil.
-Well, why in Beer-Sheva could not build the same size skyscrapers? - a new immigrant with pleasure took a sip from the colorful bottle of Canadian beer and leaned on a dry wall.
-Maybe because of seismic hazardous or "God forbid" bombing...
-In Tel-Aviv, for some reason such high-rise building, and in Haifa, by the way too ...
-Come on. We have already gone, - Klava tiredly yawned, - listen, it was so long day today... We did so many...
-And much more stuff to be done! - with these words Misha rose with difficulty from the floor and took another bottle of beer, went to the balcony to breathe.
It was a warm summer night. Stars in the sky glowed so brightly and promising. City lights went off into infinity, and somewhere on the horizon, merging with the starry sky. Highways as rivers of moving lights, ripped up a bizarre quilt of lights, twinkling and shimmering like a crystals of Swarovski. This rhythm of a huge city, this vibe, this pulse, power and energy, which Lander could feel all his body, this was all before him! He smugly grinned, patting his sticking out stomach. Yes, and he is part of this city... He is not just a tourist, who is coming for a week! He lives here! He felt like a winner, like a one of the twelve Greek Gods, sitting on Olympus. He was as a Roman commander, with delight look at the not conquered city, before his fighting legions move there. Boxes of skyscrapers, shining from inside, suddenly turned into a shining ships, quietly floating through the dark streets. They are friendly wink at him changing kaleidoscope of light in the windows, like inviting to the ride in the Toronto's night. Yes, life has just begun! What is forty-one? Is it really age? So, just a number... If he would lose the weight and... Oh, could he even dream... Even to think about, that him, Misha Lander, from the God forgotten small Moldavian town will be here, standing in Toronto, on the 25th floor, with a bottle of beer and enjoy this view. "Everything is still ahead, the life has just begun!" - repeated Lander with a happy smile and winked to the night.
They woke up late, obviously because of the time difference. While the whole family crowded in the washroom, Misha again went to the balcony to admire the daylight view. In the rays of sun the city view seemed to be very familiar. Lander saw far away a famous CN Tower, then his gaze slid down and rested on the old, not well maintained cemetery. He angrily looked up and looked around. Strange, he remembered this place ... Of course, there's, far away, red two-story hospital building with ugly looking rectangular flue pipe, sticking out over the private sector. The circular arena, probably was a rink or fitness club. Sight was strikingly familiar, only he could not remember the cemetery ... Stop! It is the same picture, what Michailovski sent him, only without the cemetery! Strange...
Almost all new immigrants believe in omens, well, and Lander was no exception. Balcony visit in the morning left in his soul some unpleasant aftertaste. First of all, the daily panorama wasn't so admired, as in the evening. And secondly, who really likes to live near the cemetery? The signs were not very good. M-mm yeah ... A day has not yet begun. What other surprises will prepare him live today? The mood yesterday seemed martial, beginning quietly to dissipate. With gloomy thoughts and misgivings, sighing heavily, Lander went to wash his face.
5
Having done quite a lot of stuff, Lander family tired and exhausted visited a nearby supermarket to buy some food for dinner. The purchasing process took a lot of time, because they have to stop and examine every package. Everything was unfamiliar, and also in English. Most of customers around spoke Russian, but sometimes somebody talked Hebrew.
-How do you like it? I thought we came to Canada, and now here we are... Look at this, like we never left, - Misha was pleasantly surprised.
-I'm so happy, it will be easier to adapt - Klava wearily looked around, searching for sugar, and suddenly pushed her husband in the shoulder, - look, is it Mikhalovski?
-Oh really, looks like him! - Lander has carefully examined the man, who looked similar to Mikhalovski. It was certainly not him. Leva was on ten years younger, taller and always with a dashing smile on his face, - perhaps a brother? - eventually assumed Lander.
Man, similar to Mikhalovski, routinely put in the cart next box and slipping on Lander fleeting anxious glance went ahead.
-Leva. Mikhalovski? - Misha nevertheless decided to take the chance.
-Are you talking to me? - Man stopped and looked with interest at the source of the sound, tired brown eyes, - Aha, Lander, has already arrived? - Leva casually reached on his former colleague, as if they had parted only yesterday.
-I expected much more enthusiastic greetings, - Misha grinned, - well, tell me how you are, something or nothing... We stayed in the high-rise building near the supermarket. On the 25th floor!
-Yes, there is most all the Russian from Israel. I rented there on the 22nd floor as well. Suffered one year, and now finally settled in the same building, but on the fifth floor. Apartment 512. So, dear neighbor, come in, not be shy. My wife and I always happy to see you...
-Thanks, definitely.
-Okay, I have to run, - Mikhalovski smiled to Klava and quickly drove his carriage forward.
Landers looked at him and discomposedly exchanging glances. Leva had aged and haggard. He became stoop and more grayer. But most of all Lander was astounded by his look. Always ironic and good-natured, he almost went out and became colorless. This look recalled a look of seriously ill man, who daily struggle with his illness. It was not a look of fatigue; it was a look of the man who lost his hope.
After shopping, pretty tired from the running, the new immigrants, with heavy bags of food, finally, went into their building. A large sign hanging on the elevator's doors, briefly reported that the administration regrets, but alas, for technical reasons, etc. They had no choice and go up on foot. Somewhere on the eighth floor, the children, who since coming behaved ideally, began moan. On the fifteenth floor the head of the family, with heavy sweat on his face, proposed a break. All family silently remembered their third floor in Beer-Sheva, afraid to say about it loudly.
After dinner and short rest, Misha looked anxiously at Klava.
-Do you think that Mikhalovski has depression?
-I don't know, but he doesn't look too happy. Maybe something happened?
-I'll go down, visit him ... At the same time I'll check how they settle down.
To the apartment 512 Lander came fairly quickly, because he stepped down, and didn't carry the bags. Leva was sincerely delighted and immediately offered to take a walk into the park nearby.
The weather was just wonderful. Not loudly murmured small streams, nimble squirrel with confidence crossed the road and springy climbed on the tall trunks, quietly disappearing into the green crowns. Sometimes there were also rabbits, and once in front of them slowly passed raccoon. Mikhalovski, no longer playing the fool, told in details his not funny story. With English unexpectedly not everything so easy, how he planned before. To be more precise, write, read and speak - it is fluent, but to understand what people told him, alas, a big problem. And this despite the fact that he was attended on English courses about ten months. Find the engineering job almost impossible, if you do not have a Canadian work experience. And without Canadian experience nobody even calls him to an interview. In general, nothing exciting and what to do next, he has no clue.
- Leva, and I thought that you didn't write to me, because you rated yourself as a first class... - Lander smiled sarcastically.
-Now you understand, the mood was like on funeral.
-And I thought you will help me... But now I see that for you help wouldn't hurt. By the way, Arkadi told me about you funny fables... Told me that you have different job offers...
-Ha-ha-ha. What, are you not familiar with Palchik?
-No, well, I certainly understand ... But... I divided what he told me at ten, but still it turned out that you've been relatively OK.
-Yes ... What I can tell you. Everything went wrong from the start. And all these immigrations endless ... I'm tired ... People over forty already come to the finish line of their career, but we only went out at the start, - Leva sadly looked into the Lander's eyes, thinking about something else.
-It's clear... Just say me, this photo, which you sent me to Israel, did you cut cemetery off?
-Hmm ... Well, I'm a man that... I do not like to cry or moan. It was stupid, of course. Sorry.
-OK. Forgive you.
-You know, Misha, just honestly, why did you leave Israel? I thought you were OK there.
-Ha! Klava pressed me. She says that is permanent war there, and we have boys ... And so, in general. I've been read statistics recently... Interesting stuff is coming up. 70% of Parliament members have a dual citizenship, and their children have been living abroad. Fresh water is about to end, and quantity of religious population escalated so high, that almost reached critical mass. Israel doesn't have natural resources. The people not only want to work, even not want to fight. Everybody now look for a job in high-tech, under the air conditioner with a cup of coffee. Very foggy prospective looming on the country's horizon. Well, and plus there's hot ... The dust flies at Negev... And locals scream so loudly, as somebody want to kill them. And here nobody nags you, political correction and tolerance.
-Ha, you saying political correction. Sure! It's all just a show for rednecks. And their smiles glued to the muzzle and tranquility... Last month I went to downtown by subway. Suddenly the train stopped and the lights went out. Dark, scary... And the train full of people, just like we have in Moscow. Well, we were motionless for a minute... And you know me, sometimes I can get crazy. Something happens to me and I can't control it. I suddenly screamed: "Good-bye my friends, this is the common grave!". My God, it is started! Shouts, screams... And where their tolerance disappeared? Women screaming, saying: do we have a real man or not? Anyone could open these "fucking Doors!". Listen, I was completely happy. They are normal people with real emotions and without political correction. It was really nice to see. M-m-m. But when the lights came on, everybody again became prim with artificial smiles. Disgusting ...
-And how it say in English "common grave"?
-I'll tell you later.
-And why not now?
-Well, I just told you, I got crazy. Okay, Misha, do not get cyclic. See wider! Just not so trust to their smiles. I was also confused at first. Here we go, one more example. Hmm ... I would say classic example. When we only came to Canada, we went through different government institutions to comply all paperwork. In one place, we took a number as all around, sitting quietly and waiting when the next available office worker will call us. Finally, the number "124", turn on the screen above some clerk, and our line number is "125". Naturally, we were in tense, and even stood up. We waited for a one minute, but nobody came. Well, maybe these people just took the number, and then something changed and they left. I was so happy, immediately jumped to the window, hand out my tag and saying: "124" isn't here, and my number is "125". A clerk suddenly stopped smile and with a tone as in concentration camp, said to me: "Stand up beyond yellow line!" Yellow line - this is somewhere two meters behind, where you waiting when you will be called. Well, I didn't understand what the point, perhaps, because of my "perfect" English... I repeat her again, with all additional explanations, that the number "124" didn't show up, and I have the 125 th... And again, she barked sternly: "Stay behind yellow line, otherwise I'll call to security!" Well, I get scared. We are in the strange country, less than a week. We spent so much money and efforts come to Canada, and now because of this clerk the whole family could be really deported. I returned back behind the yellow line with depressed mood. Feel myself as piece of shit, in front of my wife and children. Yeah... After twenty seconds, on the screen, above this clerk, the number "125" turn on. We all four cautiously approaching and this time my wife handed the tag with number "125". And suddenly, like in Hollywood, this clerk looks at me, as to her closest relative, shines from inside with honest happiness and says with a smile:" WELCOME! How can I help you?" And it is just 20 seconds passed ...
-Ha-ha. Beautifully. Now, of course, it is sounds funny, but I can imagine... I'm not envy to you.
-That's for sure. Hmm ... But I envy to you.
-Envy me? Interesting... Why?
-You at least know why you came here, but I still didn't understand why I left Moscow and went to Israel, why then moved here from Israel. Probably I liked get all and immediately, and finally got nothing and gradually.
-Hmm. Beautifully describing. And all these endless terrorist attacks? Just because of this it's already makes perfect sense.
-Oh, Misha, Misha ... It's all emotions. The theoretical probability of ever die in a terrorist attack is nothing compared to the daily reality of tomorrow die of hunger.
-Well, in general, is there no work? Or maybe it is no work like a designer?
-Oh yeah. And Finance Minister position also not available. Well, to be honest, except from structural and concrete design, I've no profession. I hope you know that I was designed Kazansky train station in Moscow?
-You?! - Lander looked at Mikhailovski, trying not to smile, - if I remember correctly, it has been built in the last century and even was retrofit 15 years before you were born.
-This bullshit for visitors, but a real Muscovites know who designed it. But it is generally not too important. Just if you have time, come to the House-Museum at the station. There my picture in the second room.
-Be sure I will. You just buy me a ticket to Moscow.
-Well, I mean, if by chance you'll be there. Now regarding a job. For the strip club I bit old, but for the construction site we can try. In Israel I began from the construction site too. Maybe lets try tomorrow. Perhaps we will find something? At the same time we could improve the language and earn extra bucks. We just have to come in old T-shirt and jeans with holes, otherwise they will understand that we are engineers.
-Stop, stop, stop. I only arrived. Give me a week or two to look around.
-Hmm. Mm. Everything repeats. I sad the same stuff when we came year ago. Probably this guy wasn't lucky, but I will. You even wouldn't feel as one year will passed... It is not like in Israel. They smile to the face and getting you hot, but with zero result. Once, I came to some office for an interview. After interview the manager took me to the design department, showed me my future workspace. After that I met another designers, had quick chat with an accountant. Then he brought me again to the future workplace and asked: "Mr. Mikhailovski, is it a big problem if the sun light from the window behind you will be a little reflect from your computer after lunch?" I answering with wide smile from ear to ear: 'It is no problem at all'. Maybe it's even better, because I used to sun in Israel. And you understood, all this conversations in English... I was exhausted! A week after this interview I carried a phone everywhere, even to the washroom, kept waiting for their call. Ugh!