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"Uz Ameriku 2"
Probably the ship [ begin p.40] ticket had already been arranged, and the agent's address had been given to us; with the
(horse-drawn) taxi it wasn't difficult to find.
Before I begin to blunder around in Liverpool, I have to relate a small episode in Glasgow. There we arrived from Edinburgh
into the big train station under the glass roof, and had to find the public bathroom. I put my big metal case down on end,
sat down on it, and started to leaf through the Alexandrov I had pulled out to see how to ask for directions to the lavatory;
but the five-ruble volume didn't help. I pulled Dzelon's little traveler's guidebook from my pocket, and immediately found
what I needed.
In Liverpool, we ended up having to wait a week for a ship. We stayed with the Jewish agent, who gave us a room in his
apartment. Once, walking around in the city, we went too far and lost our way back. We decided not to ask for directions,
but to go until we found the way. Fortunately, I had noted that the house was near the Lime Street station, and knew that
a river ran along one side of the city; after a half hour's search, we found a familiar place. We had tried out our ability
to orient ourselves. The Jew had a maid, an Irishwoman named Cissy Lynch. We got to practice speaking English with her. She
wrote a few verses in my pocket notebook. Suddenly the day came when we had to go onto the big ocean steamer. It wasn't a
new ship by any means. Its name was the Noordland, and it took thirteen days to get from Liverpool to Philadelphia.
We traveled, of course, as steerage passengers, in the cheapest class. We stayed in a large shared compartment. When the
ship's personnel had to clean it, then they drove all of the passengers up onto the deck. During one of those times, someone
broke into my suitcase and stole my new gold cufflinks and handkerchiefs, as well as a ten-dollar piece which I needed to
show the immigration official when disembarking on the other shore. I was left with a few cents in my pocket. There was nowhere
for me to look, and nobody to complain to.
The trip up the Delaware River was a pleasure; it lasted ten hours, and took place in the daytime, so we could look at
our new living place, and be pleased at the apparent wealth of the country. Climbing out at the shore wasn't encouraging.
When we were being inspected at the immigration building, and I was asked to show the ten dollars needed to pay for expenses
during the first period of residence, then I only had a few cents. The official called a second one over, they conferred and
then told me to go ahead: I 'wouldn't get lost'.
That was nicely said., but where were we to go? My cousin, Plavejs [surname[, was supposed to meet us. Nobody was waiting
for us, the building was large, and the place outside even larger. We walked around and sat down at one of the many long benches,
and considered what we ought to do. While we were worrying, we noticed a man going up to each of the other people sitting
on the benches and asking questions until he came to us. To our great pleasure, it turned out that, at Plavejs' request, Fricis
Lesinskis had come to pick us up. Plavejs himself was working at a locomotive factory, and hadn't been able to get away. After
having been delayed, Lesinskis had finally arrived, and brought us to the Latvian Association building. We couldn't understand
how they had dared to put up the sign reading "Free Latvian Association", we had internalized the Russian police
regime so deeply.
We spent our short time in Philadelphia in an uninterrupted state of wonder. Not only did we get to play billiards in
the Latvian Association, we could read books there and have a beer with Baucis, the keeper of the kitchen. We were brought
to the park of the millionaire Senator Elkin, where his mansion was located, as well as a separate building supplied with
heat and electricity. A Latvian, Makis, worked there as an engineer, and the coal stoker was also a Latvian, Sirmis, whom
we visited. They also showed us the big Baldwin locomotive factory. On the very first day I had to cut my hair which, in keeping
with the fashion of the time, hung down as far as my chin. On the ship I had gotten lice, which, I was told, were inescapable
for anyone not traveling in the highest class.
The time came to depart and to travel on to Cleveland, to my brothers and to the Blumbergs (related through my mother's
sister, Minne). This was not just a visit-- I had to find work. Today that isn';t such a problem, but at that time it was
a hard task. The first job I found was in a brewery, rinsing beer bottles. The bottles were set up semi-horizontally in a
frame, then a jet of water was squirted through them. At the time it seemed like the only way of cleaning them; now, I'm not
sure just how thoroughly they got washed. I didn't last long at that job. One Sunday the Latvians had a picnic at an old German's,
Zanzig's, place at the town of Euclid Beach. He grew his own grapes, and made his own wine, which the Latvians drank. I had
to go to the picnic, but my boss ordered me to be at work on Sunday. I didn't go. When I showed up on Monday, I was told that
they didn't need me. Thus I joined the unemployed. There was nothing to do but look elsewhere!
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