Tynda Family Affluent by Russian Standards : Soviet Ozzie and Harriet Open Home, Minds to Visitor From America

All three sons were on their best behavior. Homemade berry liqueur had been poured neatly into seven tiny glasses, and the table was resplendent with carefully crafted hors d’oeuvres of salted fish, canned meats and pickled vegetables.

Olga Chuikov--wife, mother, economist and Communist Party activist--beamed with pride over the table spread lavishly for her family and the three strangers that her friend Lena invited for dinner with only a few hours’ warning.

Smoothing the skirt of her crimson knit dress and nervously touching the cluster of curls neatly pinned on the crown of her head, Olga raised her glass.

“What should we drink to?” asked the hostess, searching her family and guests with expectant brown eyes. “There’s so much we are hoping for. It’s difficult to decide.”

Successful Family

Her neighbors and co-workers probably would say that Olga has everything. She and Viktor, her husband of 15 years, have a healthy family, a four-room apartment, a red Neva car and a summer cottage in the country. They are as successful and thriving in Soviet society as were Ozzie and Harriet or the Cleavers, the television families that celebrated American life in the 1950s and ‘60s.

A Westerner, such as the American journalist brought over by Olga’s friend, party secretary Lena Ivankovich, might have guessed that Olga hoped for material things: a washing machine, a stereo or a fashionable pair of shoes.

But the hostess, a slender and attractive woman in her middle 30s, raised her glass and wished for her sons to grow up seeing Americans as friends, not enemies, for the two governments to stop posturing and get down to the business of disarmament, and for a peaceful and wholesome future for her family.

So began a long night of storytelling and exploration that would teach the Chuikovs about American life styles and give the American a glimpse of the concerns and values of a patriotic and hard-working Siberian family.

Flood of Questions

Olga’s and Viktor’s curiosity spilled out in a flood of questions about everyday life in a land they’ve always heard about but probably will never see.

“I know our media often give a negative picture of life in America,” Olga began, diplomatically. “How do Americans see us? Is it true that they think we are an aggressive society?”

The level in the liqueur bottle dropped as the debate and laughter escalated, and Viktor produced a bottle of Armenian cognac to sustain the conviviality into the early hours of morning. The boys were told to go to bed, but they stalled in the corners and doorways of the room, fascinated by the exchange of life style trivia.

How much does an American journalist earn each month? How much does it cost for an apartment? Why do Americans say disrespectful things about their President? Do the homeless and unemployed literally starve on the street, or are there places where they can get help?

Curious About Salary

The questions themselves tell a lot about Soviet life. Personal finances are as popular a subject of discussion as the weather, and Soviets don’t hesitate to ask questions about salary, savings or debt.

The Chuikovs--Olga, Viktor, the boys and Olga’s father, Vasily--are comparatively well off for a Soviet family. Together, they have an income of more than 800 rubles a month (about $1,350). That is four times the wage of an average industrial worker, and their apartment in the center of this Siberian boom town is spacious by any Soviet standard.

Living space is in extremely short supply and is distributed to families, usually for life, with the right to pass on an apartment as inheritance. It’s not unusual for a family of four to be housed in a one- or two-room apartment, and many rooms in Soviet households serve as dining room, living room and bedroom as the day progresses.

Soviets pay about 3% of their salary for rent, with the location and size of the living space playing little part in the pricing system.

Intrigued by Housing

The Chuikovs were surprised to learn Americans usually pay about a quarter of their monthly income for housing. But they were even more intrigued that most middle-class working people live in separate homes, rather than in apartments, and that homes and apartments sometimes stand empty for months for want of a tenant or buyer.

Suburban living perplexed them, since homes on the outskirts of a city lack prestige in the Soviet Union. Even in the major cities, the outer areas are seldom connected to municipal water, heating or sewer systems. Outhouses and treks to community wells are a daily fact of life within five miles of the Moscow city limits.

Food costs account for a greater share of the Soviet family’s budget than for Americans, the Chuikovs calculated. They were tickled by the concept of sprawling grocery stores where it takes an entire aisle to display all the different brands of coffee or breakfast cereal.

“You just can’t buy these things here,” Olga said. “We built up our heavy industries after the war, putting out farm equipment and industrial machines by the ton, but we haven’t paid much attention to the things we need in everyday life.”

Working Women

The tugs of career and homemaking are felt by parents in both nations, the women agreed, with Viktor and his male guests grudgingly conceding that the lot of the Soviet working mother is a tough one.

“Does your husband cook for himself and shop for food?” Olga wanted to know, casting a reproving look at her husband.

Soviet homes are devoid of the gadgets that get the American cook through a meal or the weekly laundry. Olga and Lena are well educated and well read and had heard of microwave ovens, but they shook their heads in wonder when told that refrigerated leftovers could be reheated in five minutes.

Free time and priorities for spending it further underscored differences between the two life styles. Soviet women spend an average of eight hours a day waiting in lines to buy food and performing the household chores still shunned by most men.

No Searching in Tynda

Tynda, however, is spared much of the queuing that eats up spare time in other cities. As the remote Siberian base from which the Baikal-Amur Railroad is pushing east, the town must truck in virtually everything it needs. There’s no need to search each store. Cabbage or an electric iron is either available or it’s not.

Soviets generally are more culturally inclined than most Americans, standing in line for hours or cashing in on past favors to get tickets to the theater or symphony. Every book is a cherished possession, and television is something they turn to for news rather than entertainment, perhaps because programming is repetitive and of low quality.

“As a mother I have to say I don’t understand how Americans can condone violence and anti-Sovietism in films that children can see,” Olga said. “How does this constitute freedom of speech?”

“Rambo” and “Rocky IV” drew the traditional denunciations from the six adult Soviets, although none had seen either of the films.

Shortage of Goods

The Chuikovs said that their 13-year-old twins spend many after-school hours in sports, but that the shortage of consumer services plaguing most of the country is especially hard on Siberians.

“There are not enough music teachers, so they can take only the most talented, and unfortunately none of my children has distinguished himself,” Olga lamented. “But all the same, I’d like them to be musically literate.”

School and work loomed only a few hours in the future, so the small-scale cultural exchange drew to a reluctant close.

“We hope we didn’t tire you with so many questions,” Olga said. “It’s just such a rare treat to see America through an American’s eyes.”