Different Stories, Many People. Or One People?

Adam
An Arranged Marriage - Russia

Once upon a time- around 1978 in Communist Russia, some friends introduced a man and woman to each other. The intention behind the meeting was that they have an arranged marriage with one another so that they would be allowed to leave the country and come to the United States. At that time, during the communist era, a Russian citizen was not allowed to emigrate from Russia by him or herself. After a year went by, the man and woman planned to marry without permission from either family’s parents. Although it had been traditional to ask a father for his daughter’s hand in marriage, Russia veered towards a more liberal lifestyle because of the influence of American hippies during the 1960’s.

The wedding day arrived. There were no rehearsals, bridesmaids, or flower girls. The Russian equivalent of the best man and maid of honor were the “svideteli”, which mean witnesses. The wedding reception lasted two days, with plenty of food and drinks such as herring, pickles, and of course, vodka. After the reception, the married couple went on a traditional horse-drawn carriage ride for two hours, while a little man in the back seat, played the “garmoshka”, which is an accordion with buttons. When they returned, they participated in the time-honored tradition of each one taking a bite of bread and salt. Supposedly, whoever takes the larger bite will be head of the family.

A year later, the couple conceived a baby and he soon grew into a boy. Life was great. The boy helped his father and grandfather outside of the house with work as was expected of a five-year-old Russian boy. If they had a daughter she would be expected to stay home with the mother and help her. On the weekends, the three of them and the grandparents went to the countryside and just like everyone else around, they would collect either berries or mushrooms. They would take long walks around a lake, and during the winter they would go ice fishing.

The bond within the nuclear and extended family was very strong in Russia- they would go everywhere together. They raised rabbits and chickens for meat and eggs, and grew vegetables in their garden. As a family, they would go to the city market where all the other nuclear and extended families would be selling meat, eggs, and vegetables. They would go to the theatre together very often, and walk around the city.

Shortly afterwards, the family decided to follow through with their original plan and come to America. The grandparents felt they must stay, and so the mother, father, and son moved into an apartment in Forest Hills, Queens, New York. Soon the mother gave birth to another boy and their family was complete. They were surprised at how much stronger the bond between friends and family was in Russia than in America, so throughout the boy’s life he was encouraged to make tight connections with people and consult his family with anything.

Mohit (Mack)
Could This Be a Nightmare?

Like many of you, I don’t remember a lot about the early stages of my childhood. I do however try to remember. And, after trying much, most of what I remember is a village.

When I was five or six years old, my elder brother moved to the city and took me along. He wanted to get an education and be as far as possible from the rest of my family. I never understood why he wanted to keep me from my family, and as time went by my interest in my background faded.

After college I got married and had a child, a girl. I was really happy with my wife, she was amazing! She rekindled my need to know about my family in the village. Even she wanted to know where I came from. And so we took our little girl and drove to my village. At first my brother wasn’t happy with my decision to go back but eventually he followed us to take care of us. I couldn’t understand his cautious decisions until it was too late.

Upon arriving at the village my mother, father, grandfather, and everyone else in our extended family greeted us. It was an awkward welcome, a very traditional one, but a very warm one at that. We walked in and had a great time, everyone loved my family. As the day went by my mother questioned my wife to see if she knew how to take care of me, and my wife did a great job at answering all but one of her questions. It wasn’t until dinner time that my mother found out that she was a part of a lower caste of Hindus. I don’t even know how she figured it out and I could care less. However, everyone else at the dinner table was severely offended and they all walked away. Despite the current mayhem we slept throughout the night peacefully but it wasn’t until early next morning that the real uproar began.

As I walked down the stairs I could hear a woman scream, and along with this noise I could hear a baby screaming. As I approached the source of this noise I realized that it was a hairless woman with a hairless baby. For a moment I relived but after having a better look I was terrified.

It was my wife and little girl. They were tormented and thrown outside. On their foreheads I could see the word “untouchables”. Under the current situation all I could do was shout, but that only tempered the rest of my family. They locked me inside a room and made sure that my wife and children were sent home. My mother wanted me to take a shower and recite a prayer so that I could get remarried. They wanted me to forget my family; my wife and my little girl. How can anyone do this?