During my life in Russia I never crossed it's borders, although had a great wish to see the Big World. I would have liked to visit foreign countries as a tourist or for business. Unfortunately, fate gave me only one choice: emigration. I am not going to describe here how I arrived at my decision to leave the country where I was born and lived for almost 50 years. I would like to write briefly about the first impressions I got coming to Chicago.
Did I have any image of Chicago before? Yes of course. Today's Russia is a rather open country in the information aspect. Television, movies, newspapers, special journals, such as "USA Today": ideology, economics, politics" supplied us with the wide spectrum of information about what America is like today. I did not think that a man of my age and life experience could be shocked by whatever he would meet in Chicago. In fact I was not shocked,, but I have been surprised many times. I continue to be surprised by features of Chicago that are different from my city and also by those that are amazingly similar to it.
My first day in the US could not be compared with any other one. It is unique in my entire life. I would say that it is its a milestone. That day also confirmed a known rule that it is better to see America once than to hear about it one hundred times.
Kennedy International Airport in New York was the first point of landing after departure from Moscow. Since my first steps in this contemporary Babylon, I nearly became deaf and blind affected by loud publicity, bright sips, unknown language announcements etc. Noisy crowds of people walking back and forth, up and down; faces of unbelievable colors; strange mimics and jests; exotic clothing and speech. All these movements and sounds perceived in their entirety made me feel the breathing of gigantic creature - New York city.
A couple hours later, I left Kennedy airport for my final destination Chicago. O'Hare airport surprised me in contrast to Kennedy. I saw just a few calm passengers. There was no noise, no loud announcements, only quiet and well decorated hallways, convenient seats, stairs and escalators. It is really a cozy place to relax and feel at home.
Not until the highway did I realize that Chicago is also a very big city. There were two wide, powerful streams of lights moving fast in both directions. I never saw traffic like this, not even in Moscow. Long after midnight I was driven to my new apartment near Devon Avenue. Despite the late time I could not fall asleep for a long time that night.
You may ask me: Why do I consider that day unique? Nothing amazing! Everybody has the same impressions, coming from a rural to an urban area, from a province to a city center. I agree: nothing amazing. Maybe I am the 10 million and first immigrant who was impressed in the same way. But that day was, is now and always will be unique for me. Its uniqueness lies in the feelings and thoughts I had that day. That day I left my homeland, not knowing whether I would ever come back. A nine hour flight across the ocean was sufficient time to look back on nearly all of my life. Looking down from the plane, watching dark Chicago land regularly checked by street night-lights, I was thinking about a new life drawing near. Who were those people below? Who of them and how soon will I meet? How soon will I find a job? What kind of Eventually how seriously my life would have to change?
The next morning I was awakened by the voices of kids, playing in the back yard. At first I decided that I was still at home in Russia as usual. Looking through the window I saw that the children were exotic and some had dark-skinned faces. The words were unknown, but the sounds were like those I used to hear. "Boys are boys and they talk international language" I decided. Then I turned towards opposite window and saw the street. Oh, no,, it's definitely not Russia! But what country? Was it really supposed to be America? If so, then where are the skyscrapers and where is huge traffic? I looked on quiet narrow lane with the 2-3 floor houses, trees and squirrels jumping between them. I had no idea whether or not it was America, but it definitely was not Russia, because there was not one cat on the street, only the squirrels.
The entire year I lived on nice Bell Avenue near Devon. I like that calm place, but noisy Devon I like too. Devon is neither America nor Russia. Maybe it is more like India or Pakistan, although you can hear here twice as many languages than in the United Nations. There is one specific site of the Devon area I like the best. It is Warren Park. It slightly reminds me Gagarin Park in Siberian city Novokuznetsk, where I walked for many years.
Enough! Stop talking about Russia, Pakistan, whatever. Isn't it time to say about Chicago? About its two great miracles: Downtown and the Lake. The first one is human's made work, the second - God's. It does not make sense to compare one to another. The only thing they have in common is their perfection.
When you drive on highway I 290 from the western suburbs east, after the numbers of turns suddenly a strange mirage gets up from horizon. At first, through blue haze you see a Middle-Age fortress. It grows according your speed and soon instead of Merlinly walls you can distinguish separate buildings of incredible height. A fantastic city appears before you. The amazing thing is: these enormous parallelegrams and prisms were placed in the most unstable position. How could they do not to fall if the wind is strong? When you stay near a skyscraper and slowly lift your eyes from ground floor up, you expect to see the roof in couple seconds but your look goes further and further along a boundless vertical line. Eventually when your look reaches the end and you see a small piece of blue sky, you notice to your horror that the huge pencil starts to fall down on you.
In my city I got used to 9-12 floor buildings. Here the 40 floor buildings do not seem to be high. It is impossible to pay attention on them among the buildings of 60, 80 and more floors. Sears Tower, "John Hancock", the First Chicago Bank Building, the AMOCO building and many others I would name "Shining Wonders". I really do admire their architecture. There is unlimited diversity of geometric forms, decorative elements, colors. Parallelegrams, prisms, pyramids, cylinders; fair, dark, white, black, white and black mirror; stripped, checked etc. I would not try to list all varieties. I do not know what is the name of this style, maybe there are plenty of them. But in my opinion I attribute two general ideas to Chicago Downtown architecture: "VERTICAL LINE" and ASYMMETRY Both are intended to break the mental stereotype and traditional wisdom.
Lake Michigan is another wonder of Chicago. I think that Chicago owes Lake Michigan its birth. It is impossible to imagine the Windy City without the Lake, Navy Pier, Belmont and Montrose harbors, Lincoln park along the shore and of course without the way of this delightful view - Lake Shore Drive!
When I need to drive downtown, I always choose to take Lake Shore Drive. Although this is not very safe for me because my eyes unwillingly slide off the road to the blue horizon. Maybe in some years I will get used to the beauty of Lake Michigan and will not notice it. Up until now I am ready to watch this movie again and again. Oh, yes, it is a real movie! I have watched it many times right from my window. The Lake never is the same. Do you think it is blue? Look attentively and you will see a dozen nuances of blue. A dozen nuances of green, gray, yellow, silver and gold as well. Could the Lake be red? Yes, sometimes. Could it be violet? Yes,, trust me. Actually it depends on the color of sky. In the morning just after sunrise the sky over horizon on the south side is fair, the Lake below is dark and the border between them is very sharp. On the north side of the Lake the horizon line is also sharp, but the picture is inverted: fair, sunny water and dark sky. Between two pictures you can find a very small segment, where horizon line disappears because of the sky and the water have identical color. No border at all.
When I stand on the Montrose pier and look at the horizon line from Navy Pier to the Evanston shore I realize that this vast opened water is actually a tiny piece of the Lake Michigan, that I saw on the globe. Also from the globe I know, that if I would jump up from this point and fly over the water straight north, continue south after the North Pole, sooner or later I would reach my Siberian city, which I left exactly on this date three years ago.
Chicago, November 16, 1998