Hometown Kharkov

                Hometown Kharkov

Our family received American citizenship in 2001. We decided to take advantage of this and go to Kharkov, Ukraine.
Our close friend Sveta had her anniversary in June; she really wanted to see us and celebrate together. We bought tickets, flew out of Columbia, with transfers made it to the native Kharkov. The city (that is, customs) greeted us cordially, but cautiously.
We were not allowed to enter the main airport building until we bought health insurance; we were issued documents directly on the street and they squeezed out of us a small amount—though some money nonetheless (and in dollars, of course). We had had insurance in America, too. But they did not listen to us, explaining that this was how it was to be done in Ukraine.
We remembered our friends and colleagues, classmates and friends, whom we dreamed of meeting after seven long years of separation. That's why we bought a lot of gifts and souvenirs. We filled an entire extra suitcase! We had arrived home! But do not think that we were so easily allowed into the city! For some reason, we were checked for a very long time, our suitcases were passed through X-rays; they were looking for something suspicious! And they found something—damn it! The fact is that, before I left I decided to buy female friends small chains and bracelets, supposedly made of silver.
 I put these gifts in slippers, which our grandmother (Babulya) was giving to her friend. So on the x-ray, slippers and this jewelry showed up. So, they had found a way to make us pay! But I was not sure that chains and bracelets were made of pure silver. I asked the customs officers if there was a jeweler among them or a person who understands precious metals, and explained to them that in America you cannot buy silver jewelry so cheaply. No jeweler was found; the inspectors agreed with me, tormented us a little more, but finally, we were in the common room and in the arms of friends! The airport was undergoing major repairs, it was not very cozy and clean. But we were very happy! We ended up in our hometown!
The day after we arrived, we had to go to a special office to register, as foreigners are supposed to. I will not describe in detail how they reacted to us, sending photographs to another place, how they spent time, apparently expecting some kind of bribes from these Americans. But everything ended for us safely. Ukraine accepted us! And our new acquaintance with our beloved city began! We saw new houses built over the years, many shops, big and small, and caf;s with mouth- watering names. It is a pity that by that time the station had not yet been completed metro Pobeda, it was very close to our former home on Alekseevka


. We celebrated anniversary of Sveta; the evening was great, we met with former colleagues and family members of our friend and her husband Gennadiy. We visited the restaurant "Teatralny" together with Sveta, Gena, friend Mark and his wife Lyudmila. We were a little sad that evening, but it was nice to see friends and remember the old times.
I dreamed of visiting my favorite high school, High School 147. In the morning, we went there. Before entering the room, my eyes began to fill with tears, and suddenly my former colleague, the Ukrainian language teacher Svetlana Rudenko, ran out to greet us from the first day of work there. Tears of joy appeared and she, we embraced, both worried. I did not think that I could once again enter my office and walk through the corridors of my school. Exams were taking place at the schools, everyone was busy, the teachers writing reports and grading tests.
 There was silence. I looked into several offices; my colleagues recognized me and rushed to me. The English teacher asked me how well I learned the language. I answered her questions in English. The woman was pleased. And again tears, hugs, questions. We all agreed to meet at school on a day off. A fairly large number of colleagues came.
 I was recognized by my former students and parents of students on the street, even from passing vehicles, and then passed this message to each other: Raisa has arrived! I never had a nickname; the students just called me my name. The reunion at the school was unforgettable. The teachers also told each other that I had come. I was very pleased to see the joy of people from meeting me.
We brought a video about our city and our house. Everyone was very interested in learning about our American life. And I was happy to see that the traditions of my cabinet have been preserved, even there is my favorite portrait of Sergei Yesenin!
In our home city of Kharkov, we were flooded with happiness!

You, of course, have read Dumas's book Three Musketeers. Three ordinary girls, including me, reading books with enthusiasm, often gathered at one of their homes and read aloud the pages of their favorite books. We loved the poems of Mikhail Lermontov, quoted them by heart, discussed the heroes and gave an assessment of their actions. And then one day we re-read once again a novel about Three Musketeers.

 And it occurred to us to be called the names of the main characters. I, of course, was called Porthos, since I was the largest and tallest among the girlfriends, Vera became Atos, and Aramis Anya. And we chose D'Artagnyan as Lena, who was a class older than us. Musketeers without a captain anywhere. Captain de Treville is our teacher from the camp Vadim Stepanovich, a student of the historical faculty of the university, who at that time was 26 years old. He did not even know about his high position in our “organization.”


We felt ourselves real musketeers and behaved accordingly, we tried to be courageous and strong. Anya and Vera even enrolled in an aero club, they performed parachute jumping. I did not go into this business. In the winter we went
to the ice rink, learned to skate at any convenient opportunity, went to the park on weekends and went skiing from the slides. Especially in this I was lucky, as my classmates and our class teacher very often traveled and our class teacher often traveled through the forest. Anya and Vera studied not in my class, but were on friendly terms with my classmates.
I reunited myself with these 3 close friends when I returned.

Once we had decided to test our courage. The three agreed to go to the city center, wait for the darkness and wander through the closed cemetery. We did so, barely holding our breath, passing by the graves, trying not to scream when we heard suspicious sounds, rustles and, as it seemed to us, someone's whisper. But we passed this test.

 And the circle of our travels has expanded! And what have we done, and repeatedly? On the day off, telling the parents that we were going for a walk, we went to the railway station, got into the nearest train and rode in an unknown direction, until we decided to go to some station to walk through the forest. And we enjoyed nature; we loved to tear pussy-willow branches and wildflowers, which we brought home. Now, from the height of your age, you understand how these restless girls risked going out for a walk in the forest, without warning relatives, without knowing these places, without fear of maniacs. We then did not hear about them. And we felt great! And we continued to develop our boldness.

 Afterschool, we would meet in Vera’s apartment, on the last floor of a
Four-story building. Above the ceiling of the apartment was a huge attic, along which
it was possible to pass and exit at any entrance of the house. We loved to sit in this attic and dream or tell each other interesting stories. In the basement of this house, we also often visited and communicated with each other. I do not want my reader to think ill of me and my beloved friends. So our childhood passed, with much freedom.

 We were the most active readers in the children's library, and often came to help repair books. We re-read all the most famous works for children. We then transferred to the adult library. We felt at home, reviewing the shelves and choosing the most interesting works. My friends and I read all the books in turn, telling each other the content.


In the Youth Club, we spent a lot of time attending a dance club and dancing with pleasure. We also participated in a drama circle; we were invited to perform concerts in different places, at factories during breaks of workers. And we were proud of it! A wonderful time of youth is not forgotten!
Time goes by so fast. So we became many years older, more experienced. But there was a joyful feeling from a strong friendship, from close communication with my classmates. I already wrote about this. Here and in this my visit there was our next meeting. I look at this photo and remember the words of the poet "Some are not there, but those are far away!" Years have not passed us, we all look much older
than in our youth. But the message was the same—the words "Do you remember?" Were heard. Of course, we remember our favorite school, teachers and our happy youth!
That's how we spent a month in our hometown of Kharkov. Unforgettable meetings with friends, colleagues, classmates, former students remained in our memory!