<i> Perestroika </i> Fallout : New Wave of Jewish Emigres Finds Support System Already in Place

Eugene and Sophia Belenky navigated the produce aisle of the supermarket with care, walking slowly, letting their eyes rest on each bin of fruit and vegetables.

Automatic sprinklers released a light mist that made the green peppers look especially crisp, the tomatoes fresh and succulent.

The Belenkys--among 840 Soviet Jewish refugees who have immigrated to Los Angeles in recent months--marveled at the abundance of goods from which they could choose. There were four varieties of lettuce alone.

It made an ordinary trip to the market feel like a luxury--one small but special part of life in this country.

For 15 years, they nurtured a dream to live in America, quietly planning their flight to the West. Sophia studied English and Eugene left his job as an avionics technician because he was afraid the sensitive nature of his work would prevent his departure from Moscow.

Their dream was finally realized Oct. 27. Shortly after 3 a.m. they and their 14-year-old daughter, Dina, arrived in Los Angeles and joined their American cousins, Adrienne and Joseph Lassman, at a handsome white house on a quiet cul-de-sac in Northridge.

American Jews have long struggled to bring their Soviet relatives to a place where they could live and worship as they pleased. Now that Soviet President Mikhail S. Gorbachev’s policy of perestroika has opened the doors, Soviet Jews are flocking to American cities in unprecedented numbers.

A total of 3,000 Soviet refugees are expected to arrive in Los Angeles by next September, more than double the 1,421 that came last year. They will join an estimated 50,000 Soviet Jews who already live here, said Gregory Makaron, president of the Assn. of Soviet Jewish Emigres.

Unlike their predecessors who arrived in the 1970s, the new wave of Soviet immigrants has family here to provide a support system.

“We spent 10 to 15 years putting our roots in this country,” Makaron said. “We are ready right now to pay back whatever was done for us.”

Jewish Family Service, an agency that helps refugees resettle here, reported its busiest month ever in November: 450 people, most of them coming from the Soviet Union.

Sima Furman, director of the service’s Immigration and Resettlement Office, estimates that 70% of the new arrivals settle in West Hollywood, West Los Angeles and the Fairfax District, with the remaining 30% sinking roots in the San Fernando Valley.

Jewish social service agencies in Los Angeles expect to double the amount of money they spend on resettling Jewish refugees--from less than $2 million last year to $5 million during the current fiscal year, said Miriam Prum Hess, who coordinates one of the resettlement projects at the Jewish Federation Council.

Nationwide, 28,750 Soviet Jews received refuge in this country during the last fiscal year, compared to 10,576 during the previous 12 months, according to the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, a New York-based migration agency that is responsible for bringing nearly all Soviet Jews to the United States.

About half of last year’s arrivals, 15,095, went to New York. Chicago was the second most popular destination with 2,756, and Los Angeles was third with 1,421.

Easing the transition to Southern California culture is a network of religious congregations, community groups and social service agencies.

“It’s a big issue in the Jewish community so everyone is geared up,” said Esther Krisman, a consultant with the Bureau of Jewish Education.

“Everyone welcomes you,” said Yelena Pyatigorsky, who arrived here in June. A former English teacher, Pyatigorsky now works near her West Hollywood home as a Russian translator for Jewish Vocational Services, an agency that helps find jobs for the immigrants.

“In Russia, there is no Jewish community,” Pyatigorsky said. “America is a wonderful country. It gives opportunity to all those who want to study, who want to work.”

But some leaders in the resettlement effort say they have had little time to prepare for this new tide of immigrants and are overwhelmed by the number of families in need of aid. With private donations and government grants, they are struggling to find them employment and help them adapt to a culture dramatically different from their own.

Jewish Family Services recently started a volunteer program because counselors were unable to keep pace with their rapidly multiplying caseloads.

“Sometimes you have 15 cases all at once,” said social worker Roland Champagne. “They all want to see you as soon as possible. They all need benefits as soon as possible.”

Although the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society officially sponsors the refugees, it contracts with agencies in the community to perform the resettlement work. The Jewish Federation, which is the lead agency here, requires that immigrants be hosted by a relative or close friend who agrees to provide housing and other support until the family gets on its feet.

It costs about $3,000 to resettle each person--a process that generally lasts at least four months. The host family contributes up to $1,600, depending on their income, with Jewish agencies making up the difference.

The money covers services ranging from vocational training to counseling for depression and culture shock.

Sophia Belenky had an immediate--and dramatic--reaction to her new surroundings. She had been in Los Angeles only one day when her cousin, Adrienne Lassman, took her to an Encino beauty salon.

It was Halloween weekend and stylists dressed for the occasion. There were Draculas and ghouls. Heavy makeup and purple fright wigs also abounded. But it was the woman dressed as a Viet Cong soldier that proved too much for Belenky. Already exhausted from her long trip, she was unprepared for the unusual sight. She grew pale, collapsed in a chair and had to be taken home.

“It is not another country for us,” Belenky said of her new home. “It is another planet.”

Her daughter, Dina, received a scholarship from a Jewish social service agency so she could attend ninth grade at the Einstein Academy in Van Nuys, a private school. Dina said the academy was a far cry from her school in Moscow, where a teacher, upon learning of her plans to emigrate, ripped her notebook to pieces in front of the class and called her a traitor.

Sophia, a construction engineer, and her husband are looking for work. They have met with a vocational counselor and have sent out resumes.

To perfect their English, they read newspapers each morning and watch movies at night. They go to synagogue and have attended their first bar mitzvah.

“It was an unforgettable day--for that boy and for us,” Sophia Belenky said. “Our dream in Moscow was to be Jewish, not to be shy about our origin. Now, we are proud that we are Jewish. I can go to the temple and my daughter can go to Jewish school.”

But life in Los Angeles is not without problems. Housing is expensive and child care is difficult to find.

Some refugees come to the United States with advanced academic degrees, but language barriers often stand between them and well-paying positions, said Bea Gordon, a resettlement counselor for Jewish Vocational Services. Workers were assigned jobs in the Soviet Union, but here they have to compete for them. Resumes and interviews are a foreign concept.

“They have a lot of expectations--and rightly so,” said social worker Champagne. “We’ve been fighting for their freedom for so long, but when they get here, it’s not a yellow brick road.”

A former Soviet airline pilot in his mid-50s who has been in the United States for nearly a year is still looking for a job to support his family, Gordon said.

As a group, however, social workers say the Soviet emigres are highly skilled and motivated. Most find jobs within eight months with the help of Jewish social service agencies that arrange for classes in English as a second language, assist the refugees in preparing resumes, tell them how to dress for interviews and refer them to prospective employers.

Counselors arrange for medical care and sponsor orientations that focus on how to get bank accounts, apply for government assistance and interest-free loans and arrange for utilities.

Jewish agencies even sponsor social and cultural activities. There are Friday night Shabbat dinners and trips to popular plays, art exhibits and tourist attractions.

“The idea is to familiarize them with the Jewish community in Los Angeles and to break down the barriers built over three generations where they have no contact with anything Jewish,” Krisman said. “Even the idea of going to temple is foreign to some of them. In the Soviet Union, there is no organized Jewish community.”

Makaron’s association for Soviet emigres, which received a $65,000 grant from the city of West Hollywood this year, maintains an office on Santa Monica Boulevard that functions as a drop-in center where new arrivals can go for advice or assistance. There is a small library of Russian literature. A storage room is filled with clothing, food, furniture and household goods that have been donated for needy families. Mattresses rest against the walls and boxes of matzot are stacked to the ceiling.

Association members are now working on a survival guide. It will provide information, in Russian, about banks, transportation, jobs and government services.

“The idea is to build a bridge from our ethnic group to the community,” Makaron said. “In 10 years, we shouldn’t call ourselves Russian Jews. We’ll be American Jews.”

SOVIET JEWS These are the U.S. cities hosting the greatest number of Soviet Jews resettling in this country:

New York: 15,095

Chicago: 2,756

Los Angeles: 1,421

Boston: 1,378

San Francisco: 1,303

Philadelphia: 1,194