Growing up in a small, poorly made house in the outskirts of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, was not easy. It was a struggle to maintain a home, and even as a young child I had to help. What would not be tolerated in America, was the norm in the working-class Russian culture. Now, as a young adult, I look back on it as an advantageous, character building experience in my life which will continue to benefit me in the future.

The outskirts of Tashkent where I lived was not heavily populated and my grandparents were fortunate to get enough land during the Soviet times to build a three bedroom, a kitchen, a small washroom, a summer kitchen outside, and an outhouse that was located behind the house. With the outhouse, I had to go outside every time I needed to use the bathroom in the summer and in the winter. In the summer it would get quite ripe, while in the winter it would be cold and I would have to really hurry and not take my time. My grandfather built our home out of standard “glina” which is dirt mixed with straw that built a strong foundation for the house. However, the roof was made out of thin sheets of asphalt, and over time there would be cracks formed in the roof causing leakage. We would have to keep pans all over the house to keep water form getting onto the floor and cause a big mess. I our kitchen, the roof was so low that I was always afraid it would fall on me when I would sit at the kitchen table. Every time I heard a sound I would slowly lift my head up to the roof expecting it to drop right on top of me. I was not a little nervous for I was really nervous about it falling on me. We were too poor to fix up the place. We did not even have hot running water, or sometimes the electricity would go out because we did not pay the bill. We had to wash our clothes by hand outside in the cold water, or we had to boil hot water on a gas stove that would also run very slowly. Sometimes we could not have a hot meal because our stove would not work and there was no other way to cook food. When I showered, it would either be outside in cold water (which my uncle thought was a better way to shower because cold water made you healthier) or inside during the winter and in hot water, but not as often. We could bathe outside because we had walls around our house for privacy. Every house in Uzbekistan had a house with walls including some apartment complexes. WE had a big apricot tree in our front yard with a small garden right under it, where we only had a couple of vegetables growing such as: green onions, dill, and sometimes strawberries and other kinds of berries. Since we lived out in the countryside, you would think we would have some kinds of farm animals. The only animals I could remember having were a couple of rabbits and house pets. We could not afford to have chickens, let alone goats unlike most of our neighbors. However, there was an instance when my grandmother was coming back from a walk and ended up bringing a guest with her. A cow. A big cow that followed her home. It was the funniest thing that happened. Unfortunately, we could not keep the cow because it had an owner and had to go back.

My family consisted of the five of us in that small house, sharing three bedrooms. There was my grandmother, she was the most remarkable person I have ever known and she was the foundation of our family. My two uncles who were very opposite of each other lived with us. One was a hardworking man who earned his own money, paid for his own food, and most of all treated me well, and once in a while would spoil me. Unfortunately he died at a young age from cancer when I was very young but not too young to remember the details of his last days on earth. My other uncle on the other hand had no job, lived off of my grandmother and acted as the man of the house. He was often heavy handed and mean. He consumed a large amount of alcohol and would be quite violent to the rest of us. My mother was the youngest of the three siblings and she was the combination of the two uncles. She worked at one point and at other times in her life acted as a teenager and wanted to go out and have fun. My two uncles both had their bedrooms, while my grandmother, my mother, and I had to share a bedroom. Having the three of us in the bedroom was not as bad as you would think. It definitely made us closer.

You would think that being a five year old and with four grown family members I would run and jump and laugh for joy, but I did not. There was always plenty of things my family made me do. Even though it has been harsh, in a way my family has provided me with wisdom, opportunity to make my own decisions and learn to take care of myself. As I mention the little garden that we had in our yard has a lot of weeds growing that would prevent us from growing them there. I remember having to spend what seemed like hours pulling out weeds. There were times where my hands would result in big red blisters forming on my fingers and scabs from no protection from the rough terrain. Some of my other chores would have to clean the whole house, sweeping and washing the floors at least twice. I had to help my family wash clothes by hand. The process of washing clothes was quite long and since we did not have any hot water, the amount of time it usually took was extended to double the time. WE would literally spend tow to three hours washing clothes when it could have taken just over an hour with hot water and good soap. My uncle made big lists of things for me to do, and if I did not finish the list by a certain time, I would face consequences. Those consequences included, not being able to go out and play with friends, receiving lashes with a thin branch on my bare bottom, or standing in a corner late into the night. All that was because he thought I played around instead of did what I was supposed to do.

As tough as my twelve years before getting adopted, the experience opened up my eyes to a bigger picture. Enduring those hardships and having to be responsible at such a young age, helped me build character. Having that background really and truly helped me appreciate what I have. As an American, I now can look back and compare the society and lifestyle from a Russian culture to an American culture. My life and all of the experiences I had, happened for a reason and I would not want it to be different because I might not be the same person I am today.