Regarding to Point-X letter. First of all, you want me to look around? What do I see? I see Fort Ross, I see Russian River, I see hundreds of thousands of Russians just in Sacramento.
California (northern part) was Russia since 1812, while the southern part was Mexico. American bought(?) the land, and the payment deliverer disappeared.
Did he tragically die on his way, or ended up building a spectacular house on his ill gotten loot? We might never know, but Russians didn't get the payment, and that's history. Current populations seem to reflect the past, only
everyone adds American after their nationality: as in Russian American, Mexican American and so forth. Russians (Rus) means "blonde". I know some of you might be laughing right about now, that there is a country named after blondes, and a language to bout. But just think, if hair is so acceptable, blonde, brunette, red, than why would anyone consider Russians foreign? We pay our tax just like others here, we toe the line of decency, and like you said "have dates, marry", and have children. You want to know how I ended up here? Our family came to Russia around Catharine the Great reign as military advisers. Since then for 300 years this 'one' strain in my long family history has came with many others that I could call my own. Nikita Sherbena, Phelka Vasilivna Shoot, Timophey Golvinovich Rode, Ephrosinia Cherkas, Ana Belyak, Slava Arsenovich Koohaleishvili, Andrey Stepanovich Ratz are just some. Not to mention first names that are of my family: Vasilii, Praskoviya, Nikita, Phelka, Timophey, Dmitri/Dimitri, Nina, Angelina, Stepan, Golvin, Andrey, Slava, Arsen, Ana, Elena, and Ephrosinia. As fate would have it, I got left with Prussian Russian sounding last name out of these, and many others, and I'm not a bit disappointed.
Did your family get gassed in World War I digging ditches? Did they reach Berlin, got shot? Were they advisers to the Tzar? Great engineers in Soviet time? I can call all these to my history, for all of them happened. So after all those people were born, I came to be born in a city called Sukhumi. I loved my home, it was a port city, beautiful Black Sea coast, the waves had/have this beauty of bluish/green waves that is local to this Sea. There were Palm Trees, yes I'm still talking about Soviet Union. I remember how me, my grandfather, and my cousin sis when I was young would cover potatoes at the beach, and make a fire over them, and than eat wonderfully smoke flavored potatoes. I got the best education, got piano lessons before I was even 10, and Sukhumi was truly home. When Soviet Union was cracking, bombs started appearing on the road. Abkhaz schools were attacked, so were Georgian, and I was Russian (our schools were not attacked than, but I still remember Russian soldier with a machine gun standing/garding the school. Sukhumi was capital of Abkhazia
(Autonomous Republic within Republic of Georgia). Without clear order anarchy spread, nationalism was sprouting, and to cut the story short Abkhazi and Georgians started a war between themselves and us Russians were in the crossfire:
Where our house once stood appeared a great bomb crater, many people dead, and personally I'm one family member short. So many Abkhaz and Georgians were intermarried it's hard to understand. If it was up to me alone, I might have
sticked it out regardless of Yeltsin's decision to discard us from Russia, but it was me, 4 women (cousin, relatives) and an old man. With everyone returning to what's left of Russia, we decided not to be a burden. With seven hundred dollars, chimodan (suitcases) of clothes, and a captain's watch made by Vostok we set out to California. After going through Ukraine, Poland (where we got swindled, and their ice cream tasted like frozen milk), Czechoslovakia, Austria, and whole 6 months in Italy where we ate leftovers in flea markets in Rome we finally were able to get a flight to Rome thanks in part to a family friend that we helped leave earlier on that repaid us a favor. Great engineer found work as an interpreter first, than an office job. Another person in the family who had a Ph. D (in Soviet Union if you get bad grades once in University, no retake, you are discarded from school) ended up with an office job, and since than both got promoted on determination and effort. I held three jobs simultaneously. An 8 hour job where where I worked with computers none stop (with all fairness I did get one hour lunch, and two 15 minutes break, so technically it was 9 hour job), a 3 hour job on the side of that laundry, dish washing, and cleaning, and the third was dedicated to business. The 8 hour job varied over the years, working though a private company that assigned me at Nissan
Company doing labor work, of transferring parts in this great warehouse. I was walking none stop, sitting only during breaks and lunch it was great for my legs, and I got really nice muscles. Then they got me a job at another place, and
we had to sort out a whole lot of files, get rid of useless papers, organize the rest, and image it. We had to process 60 files an hour, fellow Americans processed 43 an hour, I processed 120 an hour for a day's average. The supervisor took me to launch, and paid for it. After working many jobs, from lithograph (where booklets are printed), to where ID cards are made for County workers where I operated the computer equipment and taken finger prints, another company where I helped organize a meeting for professors (working Saturdays, and Sundays), and I invested: Something that the Russian Patriarch urges. "Do not purchase foreign football teams. Instead invest your money in your own country, for the good of your own people; so that those who suffer from
heart-related illnesses could undergo treatment right here in their own country," said His Holiness Alexii II. When it was around the year 2000, after the 1998 financial crises, and when my own financial advisor/broker said "Why are you buying this trash?" I invested all my hard earned money in Siberian oil fields when around that time an acre went for $6 US dollars. Instead of using the money on whores, buying drugs, or going to expensive restaurants (I haven't been to
a restaurant once this whole year, but I've been to many family feasts), I've invested into 'Goom' (Trade House Gum) and am minority shareholder of that company. It's no Wal Mart, it's a Castle built in late 19th century, on ground used by Russians for 700 years for trade, and now you can find it at www.gum.ru Most of my money is in largest privately owned Moldovian wine maker, called ASCONI, there I'm really a shareholder, although not the largest stake holder.
When SEC allows it's shares to trade on American Stock Exchange, I'm going to sell it. So all you Russians out there that need finance, that need to build a factory, a plant, or whatever your community needs IPO (Initial Public Offering) in America, and use my money wisely to build a better future like
Patriarch said, so we can enjoy the heart related treatment in Russia that I personally enjoy in the sunshine state. You don't think we bake "anything", or "grow anything because we invest? HAHAHkhahHa: My relative owns 9 acres now, grows vegetables, fruits, and even something like 8 different types of chickens that lay green, white, yellow, and pink eggs. Another relative has 6 acres out at Loomis (30 minutes away from Sacramento), and she's into working with her hands as well. So before us "Investors" are classified as useless and are "burned at the stake" might want to know who made those matches.
D Slavovich Ratz
Sacramento, California, USA