Lev Golinkin

I thought I knew a lot about emigration, myself being an emigre. But this book opened my eyes, to a previously unknown degree, on a particular group of immigrants, Soviet Jews. For them, the process to leave the Soviet Union was an excruciating one, and all this through the eyes of a 10-year-old, who then grew up and re-lived it in this book. I have some very good Jewish friends from that era, and they did hint on the difficulties in their life prior to emigration and the longing to show more emigrate, but this book makes it so poignant and raw, maybe especially so - as it is through the eyes of an innocent child.

1970-80s had these waves of possibilities for the Soviet Jews to emigrate, at every step of the process constantly made frustrating by the regime: give them hope, then snatch it away. Gorbachev's era made it more possible, and that's when the real exodus started. Golinkin family emigrated from Kharkov, Ukraine (then still the Soviet Union) in 1989-1990 winter, through the usual channels in Europe, on to America. The Jewish identity was so painful in the U.S.S.R. that they were all longing to get to a place where that identity (unlike in Israel) was to a minimum - that's one of the major reasons most Jews chose America, they "needed to cast off a stigma". Which lead, of course, to being misunderstood by American Jews (who shouldered the price of the emigration for them) as to why such irreligiousness in the newcomers...

The actual passing of the border, into Eastern Europe at first, the horribly shocking treatment by the border guards, will give you goose bumps. Then, the uncertainty, without any documents, not even birth certificates or passports (those were burned at the border!) was even more crushing. The language barrier, preventing the older generation from succeeding in the new land - all for the sake of the youngsters, to give them the new life. All these trials - all for the sake of normal life, what we take for granted.

And how about this meaningful passage about the impractical but stubborn decision to carry a tea service through all the borders on the way to America (yet I can totally relate to that): "Everyone in Russia, regardless of ethnicity or income, owned a tea service. Tea was mandatory; tea was a common denominator. From Siberia to Uzbekistan, no matter who came to your door or when they arrived, they were always offered a cup. A tea service was more than a set of cups and saucers: it represented a meal, which represented a home, which represented a life. As impractical as they were, those faded green teacups held the hope of once again having friends and entertaining guests..."

Giving this book a 5-star rating, I don't think I am biased in favor of it - just because it's about my former corner of the world. It's just plain good writing. The last few pages are especially striking. My only regret is that the author calls his former country "the Ukraine" while it's simply "Ukraine". But it's just a technicality.... However, on a lighter note, kudos to the author for once and for all stating that the word "babushka" means an "elderly woman" and not a "kerchief" or a "scarf", as so many in the west are lead to believe. show less

A well-written and oft humorous account by Lev Golinkin about his family's indirect emigration to the US as Soviet Jews as well as his personal struggle with identity. While the context of this story is a disintegrating Soviet Union and the Golinkin family's departure from the Ukraine, the challenges of being, processing, and supporting refugees from any land are as relevant today. The author does a great job of conveying what feels like a free fall at times, once the decision to leave is show more made and the bouncing around that happens before landing in a place where one can try to take root again. In forging a new identity in a new place, there's worry -- maybe more so in the young -- how much of the last place you share in new environs, lest ye be judged. show less

Memoir of a young Lev Golinkin, Ukranian Jewish living under the Soviet regime's waning Cold War era (late 1980s). His father, an experienced & industrious engineer, his mother a respected pyschiatrist, his grandmother who barely escaped the Nazis in WWII, and his older sister Lina, studious & determined to get a good university education- all wonderfully described through the lens of 10 yr. old Lev. All of his family determine to get OUT when Gorbachev's reforms included relaxing the almost show more nonexistent emigration exit visa policies. By December 1989, that is exactly what they do - through the dangers of the Ukranian landscape to the Czech border to face the border/customs office (tamozhnya) and the insrutable, cruel tamozhnik - border guards known for their malicious destruction and searches of emigrants' belongings before they let them through. (Thus the crates of vodka in the title - bribes as the bus moved the emigres from Kharkov to the border).
Divided into parts, the first part gives us Lev's childhood and leaving Kharkov, and his family's enormous efforts to leave their country behind forever. Part II documents the subsequent moving from one hostel to another, ending in a village hours from Vienna, Austria, all arranged by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee and HIAS, Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. Lev describes his family's experience with his fellow emigrants, the aid workers, & most especially the somewhat mysterious Austrian baron Peter, who routinely shows up at their refugee hotel & haggles with Russian emigres who had the connections/forethought to smuggle out expensive or impressive collectibles from the closed Soviet Union. Wonderful use of dialogue, description, & rich in emotional range: sometimes ludricous events told with wry humor, sometimes Lev's achingly miserable memories of his early years told with unflinching prose. Part III begins to shift more to the adult Lev, now finishing at Boston College, and slowly, painstakingly, coming to grips with his lifelong practice of keeping everyone at a distance, trying to forget Kharkov, their flight through Europe and their first years in the U.S. (watched over by refugee sponsors who voluteered to help the Golinkins in every way possible) including a house to live in West Lafayette, Indiana. When his father relocates them to New Jersey to accept -finally!- an engineering job- Lev is determined to forget that he is a Jew, that he was from the Soviet Union, that he had a past before New Jersey. But his inability to consider his future after school ends forces him to an existential crisis: who am I really? why do I continually "run" from deeper relationships? why was his life so empty deep down? An astute professor/advisor insists he must have a foundation - he must investigate his past- and then Lev also shares some of the meetings & discoveries he made while doing just that with the aid workers, with Peter, with others who so generously helped his family 17 years earlier.
Written in chapter format that felt like stand alone pieces -maybe originally submitted to a magazine?- this could be an excellent memoir for mature high school readers, but its back & forth in time treatment, its inclusion of political details & Jewish culture/religion, and its serious crisis point for the grown up Lev might be a challenge; also 303 pages long. Adult readers: While this played out for Lev in the era of glasnost, then through 1990s-early 2000s, the insights it affords us about what it is really like to be a refugee/emigre to America is heartrending & eye opening. A very timely book in the recent heated political climate about immigration in America. show less

I appreciated reading Golinkin's perspective on his life as a refugee and an immigrant. I had not been aware of all of the trauma that many had suffered and continued to suffer once "resettled." I felt some parts were repeated unnecessarily and other details that I sparked my interest were not included, but this book was an eye opener. I expect it forced the author to go places he did not want to (both psychologically and physically), and that was a painful experience.