Camel from Kyzylkum

THE FIRST SCHOOL I WENT TO in America was to learn English as a second language. Then I went to a special school for adult Americans who had never finished high school and wanted to get a GED (General Educational Development) diploma. There were a good number of Russian immigrants in this school because the school promised to help with job placement. I remember one of the lessons they taught us was how to dress properly, both in general and for interviews. It seemed very bizarre to us, Russian immigrants—most of us had been highly educated in the Soviet Union and worked there as doctors, teachers, engineers, and so on. We were interested only in learning English, but we had to follow the rules of the school. After I completed this school and my English improved, I took a certified nursing assistant (CNA) course—I needed to get work as soon as possible, and the course required only a few months of study and then an exam for the certification.

No matter what school I was going to, I was always an outstanding student. In general, I love to learn. I successfully completed the CNA course and passed an exam. I was extremely proud when I got my first certificate in America. I got a job in a nursing home as a nurse assistant for the night shift. To tell the truth, I absolutely cannot function properly working at night and had never worked a night shift in my life. But I had no choice—the night shift was the only one available, and I was grateful that I could get it. It was hard, and not only because I was working at night. My responsibilities were to clean and turn over old, bedridden patients. There was a strong, mixed odor of urine, feces, and sweat in the rooms. It was the smell of the end of life. On the patients’ nightstands and on the walls were pictures from when they were young and full of life. They resembled nothing of what they had once been. It was very depressing.

After working there for several months, I thought, “I can get a better job than this.” So, I went to college to learn how to be a medical assistant, a professional who supports the work of physicians. There I enjoyed all medical subjects and earned very good grades on them. Only one subject was a complete nightmare for me: typing. It required me to put on headphones, listen to the tape, and type what I heard at a speed of 35 words per minute, using all ten fingers properly. By virtue of my English limitations, it was an almost impossible task. But I told myself, “Nothing is impossible. Just practice.” And I practiced. I bought a keyboard for typing and practiced for hours at home. In the end, I passed the exam. And I’m so glad I did—the skill of typing was very beneficial to me when I was working as a computer programmer later on, and even as I spent time writing this book.

After being in the medical assistant course for a year, I realized that when I finished it and started to work, I would not make enough money to support myself. I thought about what I could do next. I knew I needed to secure a job that would give me enough money to be on my own and survive. After some research, I decided to apply to Buffalo Millard Fillmore Hospital’s X-ray school, a two-year program. Upon completion and successful passing of a certification exam, I could become a radiology technologist, the person who performs X-rays on patients. I thought it was as close to my previous profession of geophysicist as it could be—I had learned about physics and radiation before. In addition, the pay rate for X-ray techs was substantially higher than that of medical assistants. It didn’t hurt that X-ray techs were in high demand at the time.

During my first application attempt, I was not accepted, most likely due to my English limitations. So I waited one more year and applied again. This time I was accepted. The school was structured so that we were in classes for three days and working on the floor helping X-ray techs and gaining actual skills during the other two days. At 42 years old, I think I was the oldest student in the class, as most of my classmates enrolled right after high school. I maintained good grades. I must say that my academic achievements were better than practical. I always liked to learn new subjects. During my years in X-ray school, 1992–1994, I was very busy learning during the week and cleaning houses on the weekends to support myself.

After I graduated from X-ray school and successfully passed the certification exam, I started job hunting. It was not easy to find a job in Buffalo, especially when I was looking for my first professional job. All I could get was part-time work, with no benefits. In the beginning, I had two jobs in different doctor’s offices. Later on, I worked with a mobile X-ray company. It was a night shift, again. I needed to drive a minivan with a heavy mobile X-ray machine inside and go from one nursing home to another, take an X-ray, return to the office to develop the film, and take it to the doctor’s house so that he could read it.

It was especially hard during the winter. Buffalo may as well own winter. The season’s first snowfall usually arrives in November, and the last snowfall typically happens in April. Over half of the annual snowfall comes from the “lake-effect” process. Lake-effect snow occurs when the relatively warm water of Lake Erie crosses with cold air. The air becomes saturated, creating clouds and precipitation—snow bands. A snow band’s location is always determined by wind direction. Areas south of Buffalo are usually prone to receive much more lake-effect snow than locations to the north. I remember that so many times my pager would beep when Severe Weather Alerts were announced on the radio, and a travel ban went into effect for the entire Buffalo region. I was dispatched even when roads were completely covered with inches of snow and slush with icy patches. To drive around Buffalo and the suburbs alone at night in wintertime, with frequent snowstorms, was a nightmare job for me, but I was paid $30 per hour, so I was determined to keep it as long as I could. In addition, several days per week I worked during the day in the doctor’s office. It was a tough life, but I never expected that it would be easy.