Doru- A migrant from Romania

 

I have worked with this man, Doru, for the past two and a half years.  I knew he was from overseas (his accent gave it away), and had heard from a coworker that he had an interesting story about getting to the US.  This class provided me with an excellent opportunity to sit down and interview him about what his migration experience was like.  He agreed to meet me in my office after working hours to share his experience.  I was fascinated by what I learned!  Read on to learn about one man’s attempt to flee Communist Romania, and the surprising way he got to America!

Here is his story... 

 

I was born in Communist Romania.  I grew up in Radauti, a small town in Suceava.  Born in December 13th, 1957.  I came from a family of ten children, but back then you had free medical.  Straight out of 8th grade (last generation to be required to go till 8th grade) I went to auto mechanics school, and worked in the big city of Suceava.  That’s where I met my wife. We married in 1976- I was 18 and a month.  After I did my 1½ years in the Army (mandatory) in 1979, we had three children.  Actually, my son was born while I was still in the army.  But then 1980 came.  Not so okay time.  See, every five years, the Communist leaders would meet to discuss goals, and there would be a crisis.  Then it would settle down.  But 1980 not so good.  This was the year I was first tempted to leave.  I had two friends that talked about crossing the boarder into Yugoslavia.  That was the only country around us that if we crossed into, we would be safe.  They allowed their citizens to move freely, even though they were Communist, too.  So I had one friend that knew a man who lived near the boarder to Yugoslavia, and the other friend knew people in Yugoslavia.  I felt good about it, I didn’t have any responsibility if something went wrong!  I had another set of friends who made it to Yugoslavia.  One called me, “I went to big store in Vienna (Austria) and I will never go back to live in Romania” he said.  Wow, I thought.  That good?  See, at that time the media was run by the Communists, Ceausescu was in power.  We had one channel of tv.  I was lucky, I lived so close to Russia.  I got with high antenna two radio stations from Kiev, and two from Moscow.  I heard Radio Free Europe.  I wasn’t sure whether to believe what they said.  Either side.  Ceausescu paraded around this Frenchman who said he couldn’t live under Capitalist system, he couldn’t find work or afford to feed his family.  He said he was grateful to be in Romania, where government gave him a job, and home.  I think it was a show now.  I still think Ceausescu would still be in power today if he gave the people more entertainment.  But one tv channel!  One!  Two hours a day of propaganda, ½ hour of news.  Every night from 8 to 10 a movie.  Usually they not so good, but sometimes show good American movies.  This was my first view into America.  I think “if its anything like that, it’s good.” 

I remember her reaction.  When I told my wife about my plans to go to Yugoslavia, “You took my peace” she said.  But she supported me, told me I better get some English books to help me learn how to speak.  So we go, my two friends and I.  We took the train to Timisoara, another train to Carpinis.  From there the man my friend knew that lived on the boarder advised us how to cross.  See the outline of Romania?  If we didn’t travel the right direction, we could walk from Romania to Yugoslavia, and back into Romania.  So we have a compass, directions, we head out at 10pm.  It was March.  The snow was melted, there was mud, fog.  Couldn’t see anything around.  Out almost four hours, night almost gone, we have to go back to the house.  The next day, we try again.  My two friends get caught.  I made it to Yugoslavia, but I didn’t know anyone!  I went to church there, for some help.  So I go back.  Then I get a call from Securitatea Statulli (Secretary of State).  He use this voice, like he’s nice, but you feel scared- it’s a pretend nice.  So he wants to arrange meeting.  Me, my parents, friends, boss, wife, SS.  In the workplace, there’s a political office.  Like here we have manager?  There we have manager and people working for the government.  It was like that at every job.  So he sits me down.  I learn they caught my friend, and he told them of our attempt.  My wife says “Ceausescu says everyone should have second chance.”  The SS likes that.  He leaves, but now I feel like I’m under constant surveillance.  Spies everywhere.  My wife and kids and I took a vacation to Black Sea.  I couldn’t pass into Bulgaria.  They knew who I was!      

            So in 1982 my brother comes back from his time in the Army and plans to escape with two other guys.  I agree to give it another chance.  These two other guys knew of places to migrate from.  But we drew notes, and mine came up.  So we went back to that guy’s house again.  He says, “Keep as much as you can to the right, if you go to the left there are soldiers.”  So we find the canal, and go to right.  The other two guys are in front, my brother and I are in back.  We see the bridge to go to Yugoslavia.  The two guys go first.  I hear scream.  Police!  Gunshots in air.  I turn 180° and run.  I see bullets fly, I fall into a ditch.  Hears police asking my brother and friends “Where’s your fourth?!”  30 soldiers show up in 5 minutes, two with horses.  I turn myself in.  They are roughing up my brother, they have his hands tied behind him, using gun to beat him in the head- he’s bleeding.  I know they’re going to hit me, so I flex and pretend to hurt when they strike.  We’re taken to the boarder unit, tied to trees in backyard.  They take us one by one for interrogation.  Me first.  They take my shoes off, and beat my feet.  But my socks are still on, and wet, and provide cushion.  And I flex and move them so it doesn’t hurt so bad.  But my friend, he was hurt bad.  They beat your feet because your feet are connected to every major organ.  So my friend still has kidney, liver etc, pains.  His feet swelled up an inch.  I don’t know if he had his socks on, or if they were wet.  From there I was sent to prison with my brother for six months.  When I got back to my town, I was persecuted.  They had shaved my head in prison, and back then that was only for prisoners and crazy people.  It wasn’t fashionable.  But slowly people congratulated me for trying. 

            Once you get something like that in your head, you can’t let it go.  It was like my wife said, I had no peace.  Every night I dreamt about America.  I would be walking home from work thinking about it.  Then the revolution came. 1989.  Communists out of power, we had freedoms again.  The economy collapsed.  My brother, meanwhile, had made it to America.  He sponsored me to come to the US on a visitor visa for six months.  I was surprised when I first came to New York.  My first impression was that people are smiling at me!  In Romania, you don’t smile at a stranger on the street.  They will see you as crazy!  But here everyone smiles.  My brother tells me to apply for political asylum.  I remember working here with a man restoring churches.  I was up on the roof, and thought how pretty this country was, so organized!  Then I got my social security card, got work in a sweater factory.  I worked on my brother’s friends’ car and word got around that I fixed it so well, that his friend offers me a job at BMW, in Brooklyn.  After I decide to stay, I took English classes, 4 to 5 hours one night a week in Manhattan.  It was like living in the blind world if you don’t know the language.  But the Americans encouraged me- I would try to speak a few words in English, then apologize because I know it’s bad, and they would say “No no no, you speak very good English.”  I knew it was a lie, but it made me feel good and grateful to them. 

Then I heard about the lottery for Green Card, applied, and won!  That was God’s will.  The kids and wife came over after three years and three months, 1993.  My son was 19, my daughter was 12, and the other was 14.  When I had last seen them, they were children- now my daughters were teenagers!  From there we go to California, and I work in another BMW shop.  There I was taught the importance of credit.  I was told this was very important in America, and got good credit.  It was too expensive in California, so we move to Arizona.

No, I will not move back to Romania.  I like the way I live now.  Besides, my grandkids are coming!  I went back to visit, the first time in ’03.  Found it to be better, little by little people are understanding what democracy means, they are working harder.  They still see America as the miracle country.  A lot of Romanians migrate to Europe and go back to Romania to build houses.  I’d like to have a house there.  A summer home, perhaps?  My wife still has some land.  But not to live there all the time.  I remember when we finally got citizenship here.  May 16th 2001.  They had a big party for me at work, everyone was so happy for me.  I was very happy, too.  When I think about what made me want to leave Romania in the first place, I think it was the lying the communists did.  Like I said about the Frenchman.  The capitalists never talked to us like that.  And compared with the communists, the capitalists were stronger; industry, army, technology.  Everything.  So now I’m here.