I came back the next day, prepared to meet them all. I kept thinking to myself, "But what about the language barrier?" There was no time to be shy, so in the afternoon I slipped into the building, stealthily snuck backstage, (relishing every moment as super-spy) and introduced myself to them in pigeon Russian. They proceeded to take me in like a long-lost defective, uh...I mean defected daughter.

Oamir and Natasha Gibadullin's 8-year old boy, Roma, quickly befriended me and helped translate with his broken school English. I trained with them in the practice ring and met the other members (Boris and the gang). With pride, they all gave me an incredible tour of the whole facility, as curious eyes followed us around.

 

Later as we sat upstairs in their dressing room, we asked each other many questions about each others' lives and work. They all yearn to perform in a Western country, and dream of going to the US, but those aspirations are out of their control.

 

Their lives are comfortable in the Soviet Union, because the paycheck of a circus performer comes from the government and after 20 years of working, every performer will receive a monthly pension for life.

All medical care is, of course, free. And to top it off, all artists, performers, and dancers have the career respect that doctors and lawyers have in this country ­ they're admired professionals, but have the added glory of celebrity. Oamir spoke with the attitude that The System may have its faults, but it was the best.

 

When I told him that artists in my country have no support from the government he looked at me in astonishment and replied, "... very strange!" I suppose that since all needs are met, it would be hard to argue against the Soviet system, especially for someone like the Gibadullins who have never experienced another country and its people.

 

Artistic freedom isn't an issue for the Gibadullins - their material isn't political or avant-garde. But seeing it all, close up, left me claustrophobic. The fact that I have unlimited choices in my life kept slapping me in the face.

 

The troupe was very generous. They escorted me to the best seat in the house to see the show again, and I took several rolls of film. It was my birthday and they presented me with a set of Moscow Circus juggling clubs.

 

There was a comradeship between us that spoke for itself, a common language. After spending 5 days in Leningrad, I flew to Helsinki and waited for a connecting flight to Frankfurt.   Ahhhh! As I sat in the airport, I ate fresh fruit, which I was unable to find in Russia, and read every English language newspaper I could find. As I came across the Gibadullin's address in my journal, I recalled our goodbye.

 

We had exchanged information and I invited them to come visit me in the United States. Suddenly, we all started to laugh at the absurdity of the invitation. Oamir said, "I think it best, you come here, yes?" And I probably will.