What kind of victims should conquer New York
'20.07.2018'
Initially my plan in life was “Conquer America” by any possible means. No matter in New York or not, I was open to any place. I booked a plane ticket to New York, where I was supposed to meet with a close friend, Masha, and go together to Maine to work in a nursing home.
Wiping priests old women, I had to "live my dream" (eng. "Living the dream"). But my flight was postponed, and when I arrived in America, Masha had already flown to Maine, and it was possible that she washed the floors when I left the JFK airport. I panicked when I heard about her departure, because I had no more plans; she was my plan. I wandered through the streets of Queens in tears, feeling terrible. I went to the information stand, without a clue how they could help me there, but it seemed that, seeing my complete hopelessness, I was advised to rent a room in a hostel and even suggested how to get to it by subway.
After spending another hour in Brooklyn before finding a way to the hostel thanks to a sympathetic American, I finally fell into my place on a bunk bed and almost instantly fell asleep, deciding “I'll think about it tomorrow,” just like Scarlett O'Hara. When I woke up, I rushed to an old MAC computer in the common room and sent messages to VK Mache and J1 to students from my university; I did not have a phone, it was my only way to ask for help. And of course, my parents did not have a VK page, and I could not contact them. 3 of the day I was waiting for a response from Masha, but it was not followed. I was even ready to go to Maine, no one knows where, and knock on every door to find her. But still decided: it would be safer to spend the evening looking for housing in the Bronx.
The guys from the Netherlands booked a place for me in a hostel on 103 street and Amsterdam Avenue. I was lucky, in the summer you will not find an empty room in the hostel during the day. 3 of the day and 160 $ later I ran out of ALL money. I was again on the street.
I left the hostel with a brown suitcase in my hand, hiding tears behind my sunglasses. I didn’t even have money to buy water, so I went to the nearest Irish pub and asked the bartender for a glass.
While I was drinking, a stranger began a conversation with me. Honestly, I don’t remember how he looked, but after a couple of general questions he said: “Then let's find you a hostel for the night.” And now I'm going to a brilliant new SUV through the streets of Manhattan. I was waiting for trouble. What's on his mind? Shows me New York, and where are you lucky next? I had nowhere to spend the night (not counting the metro station), so there was nothing to lose. I never understand why he did it - he left me with 100 $ in his hand in front of the hostel on 83 Street, and I never saw him again.
The next morning, the hostess woke me up - it was time to collect things, there were already no free beds on that day. Going out homeless, hungry and poor again, I heard 2 girls talking about GO-GO dancing. In Russian! Who else, the others call this profession a striptease. I stopped abruptly and went into their room.
The girls were hung from head to toe with fake decorations, the dresses were flashyly frank, and the tone was incredibly arrogant. But I was exhausted and almost lost hope, I wanted to know about work.
Only then did I notice the third girl, who was quietly sitting on the edge of the bed. Desperate, I was ready to ask to join the “elite go-go group”. At this moment, the third girl came up to me and said: “Are you looking for housing? So do I. Come on. ” I felt like a stone fell from my soul, and I turned away from those two girls, and they were just glad - they were left alone. My new friend and savior was an Armenian with big brown eyes. Cards on the table: I told her everything - I had no money, no laptop, not even a telephone. She replied: “Not a problem,” she finally called her parents and borrowed some money while I waited for the transfer from my parents for Western Union. At that time I was not aware at all, but it was a turning point in my life’s journey.
Our next couple of weeks went searching for housing on the Craiglist in the New York Public Library by day, and at night we slept on the floor in the room of her friend in Brighton Beach. For every 20 requests for a room, we received an 1 response - and basically it was a request to provide a deposit, credit history, or just a message stating that two people could not rent one room. Nellie had enough weekly money from her parents to rent a room or live in a hostel until September, but instead she stayed with me. Once we had to sleep 4 for the night in a row in her friend's car in the parking lot. Her friends sometimes took us to the city or even treated us to delicious Armenian food. But we are starved for stability.
Brighton Beach mixed up with Queens and New Jersey, slippery types tried to get me into trouble (I myself know how to do that, thanks), and so day after day. Empire State and Chrysler Building still shone more brightly than ever, but the hope of seeing them all through my life has gradually melted away. When my confidence in tomorrow almost disappeared, as did my dreams about America, we met a guy from Croatia who lived with his family in New Jersey, and his neighbor just moved out. So we found our new temporary apartment. Even if this guy from Croatia was a serial killer, I would still be settled.
We rarely spent time together. I envied Nellie, she went shopping and walked around the sights every day before leaving for Armenia (her family let her go on a trip to America only with an oath to return back safe and sound), and I kept trying to find a job, covering thresholds from dawn to sunset Our paths went in different directions, and because of my late returns home, it began to seem as if in her opinion I was working as a stripper or worse. In those rare times when we saw each other, I noticed how her attitude toward me became cold. When she needed to fly back, we barely exchanged a few words. Unfortunately, we said goodbye in messages, and never spoke again.
My rescuer thought - I fell low, not realizing that I still needed to figure out how to support myself if I was going to stay in America; day and night I was looking for a normal job, as she wanted.
Worse, my father refused to give me financial support. And the month of renting an apartment came to an end, so when she got on the plane, I was again on the street. However, she did so much for me, and I am very sorry that our conversation did not take place, we could not clarify everything. I wish I could call her and thank her for saving my life! Because of pride, arrogance, embarrassment, I am the brightest example in the world of the terrible lack of communication skills among Eastern Europeans. Two girls who survived such immense difficulties cannot pick up the phone to solve the simple misunderstanding problem.
Now, many years later, remembering my first 3 months in the US, I have mixed feelings. I thought badly about girls who chose to “dance” for money, imagining how terrible it was. Now I understand, this is just the path chosen by them to follow the dream, or as I like to say “conquer America”. I understand that striptease has never been their dream, and I am sure that it hurt them; but we all pay a high price for America, and no one can condemn our personal sacrifices. We, immigrants, give away a part of our soul, but much more is received — we can afford a new life. Although I admire people who are not afraid to act in order to survive, for a long time I was disappointed with my election in the first summer in New York.
Anyone who has achieved much will tell you how important it is to make mistakes in order to find your answers and reach your goal. But an error is valuable only when you learn a lesson from it. Otherwise all your works are in vain. Over time, I learned not only to take my first summer, but also to be proud of my achievements. Although it did so little. Strangers continually intervened, invariably “dragging me away from the brink”. People who know about my story constantly tell me what a wonderful way it is and how proud they are of me. I wish you not to wait until your friends or strangers say what a fine fellow you are and calm you down - you have not done anything wrong. I wish you make your own decisions. Be proud of them - right and wrong, because no matter what you tried, and this is a real achievement.
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