Waiting for the Electricity (23 page)

“Thank you, Misha,” Susan said, taking the card.

“Don’t say thank you now,” he said and shuddered. “Only say thank you when you mean it. But by the glory of God you won’t ever need it.”

I was about to stand up in order to invite her to Batumi, but apparently we were going around the room in the other direction. The girl sitting next to Misha, wearing many little barrettes lined up like railroad ties in her multicolored hair, came from a small town in Russia, from Neftograd. “The name of our town literally means Oilville,” she, Lena, said. “I’m sure you can imagine what our problem is. We are a very rich republic, but the wealth is not divided equally and many people are resisting this.”

Papa must have paid Lena’s passage here, I thought. He probably works for one of those ubiquitous companies that manufacture some sort of tube. “My concern is that it snowed in my city in July,” she said. “And it snowed
last
year in July. This is not our usual weather pattern. But who is hearing of this? Also, I am very interested in women’s rights, women’s businesses. I would like to start my own clothing line or at least learn how to create a catalog like this.” She took a stack of mail-order catalogs out of a shopping bag labeled “Krasnyi Vostok,” Red East, Siberia’s most popular brand of beer.

The man sitting next to me was from Kazakhstan. He was introducing himself now. I couldn’t see what he looked like very well because his baseball hat covered half his face. He whispered to me in Russian, “Can you translate for me?”

“He doesn’t feel comfortable speaking in English,” I said, “so I will translate for him.”

“That’s all right, I can understand a little Russian,” Susan said in Russian.

“No,” Lena said, flinching at Susan’s heavily accented Russian, “I’d prefer it if he translated,” and she pointed at me.

“Okay,” Susan said and shrugged. “It’s better if we speak English anyway.”

His name was Chemistry.

“Your name is Chemistry?” Susan asked in surprise. “But that is a very unusual name.”

“It’s a Soviet name,” I said. During Soviet Union times it was normal to name your son after science.

Chemistry told me, and I started to translate, that his mother knit camel hair socks for the passengers on the Trans-Turk railway, but he worked as a DJ in his small town on the steppe. “Tell her how it’s a problem because I can only get access to the same twenty cassettes, and people are bored because they hear the same music. But maybe that’s not important,” Chemistry said quickly. “I am truly concerned about our potato crop. In Kazakhstan we are no longer allowed to grow any potatoes because of a beetle epidemic. These days potatoes are so expensive because they must be grown secretly. Those who grow them are like mafiosi chasing each other down the road always asking the same question, ‘What is the price of potatoes?’ Even truck drivers are afraid to transport them.”

When my turn came I said, “My name is Slims Achmed Makashvili. I am from Batumi. It is very interesting and humbling to sit here. As for my problems, we have many problems in Georgia, but the biggest one for me is, well really what I’m wondering is how you get people to follow the law here? Of course if your family is hungry, it’s necessary to steal something. But we just need to bring up
one
generation where the children do not look to criminals as role models.”

“Well, I see you all come from a variety of backgrounds,” Susan said. “I hope that we can all benefit from each other’s experiences. I have some books to pass around that may help you in this effort at democratization.” She passed half a pile of books to one side of the
room and the other half to our side. I rummaged through our side’s stack:
The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
,
Eleanor Roosevelt’s Guide to Leadership for Women
,
Capitalism: A Primer for the Roadside Vendor
.

I was relieved to see that Dale Carnegie’s book wasn’t included. “You are free to borrow these books,” she said. “But the method by which you will learn the most is through your own initiative, by phoning people, asking questions. It’s all about the telephone call.”

“We encourage you all to acquire cell phones,” she continued. “Our institute will be able to provide you with a reasonably priced telephone plan.” When the board was covered with Susan’s life outline and there was no room left for her to complete her illustration of a telephone receiver with her green felt pen, I ripped a piece of paper out of my notebook to erase the board for her, but she picked up a cloth eraser and did it herself.

In the afternoon we had a guest lecturer, a Mr. Tetley, like the tea. He was American but he looked a little like Anthony, which meant that he also looked a little like George Bush. As he wrote on the board, he spoke aloud the words he wrote.

“If … you … don’t … know … where … you’re … going … that’s … where … you’ll … end … up. Nowhere!” Then he passed around photocopies of a million dollar bill. So we could hold it. “Does everyone have a pen?” he asked. “Take a few minutes and write down all the goals you have in your life on this bill. Income level. Family. House. What is it that you want? While you write, I’ll play this Bob Marley song on the CD player.”

“
Wake up and live y’all wake up and live. Wake up and live now
,” the lyrics repeated as we wrote.

After a little while, Mr. Tetley turned down the volume. “Mr. Makashvili,” he said, squinting to read my name tag. “Read to me one of your goals?”

“I’d like a lot of money,” I said.

“Okay, and what do you need that money for?”

“I’d like to buy a car?”

“What kind of car?”

“A BMW 525.”

“Yes, I have one of those. Light blue. Now imagine. How are you going to feel when you sit in that bucket seat?”

Everyone oohed.

“I feel good,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m right there with you. If you’re feeling half as good as I am as I anticipate you sitting in that bucket seat, you’re halfway there. I had a goal to lose body fat and gain muscle. It hasn’t exactly worked out for me yet. But it has worked a little. I was 189 six months ago and now I’m 182.”

Chemistry leaned over and asked me how to spell wife. “Is this right?” he asked. “I want to good wife.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I said. “Take out the
to
.”

Mr. Tetley was now telling us about a man who made a plan to sell something called pixels. “If you fail to plan, you’re planning to fail.”

Chemistry slid his paper over to me. “Is this right?” he asked. I read, “I want to the another house.”

“Yes, that’s good,” I said.

“He sold pixels on eBay,” Mr. Tetley said. “He made a million dollars in five months. And four months later he made four million. Money generates money. People bought entire Internet neighborhoods.”

Chemistry scooted over his paper again. “I want to good pay. I want to good vacation. I want to good car.”

“That’s enough. That’s enough goals! Now why don’t you listen to the guy?” I shoved his paper away.

“Now what is an affirmation? An affirmation is a way to get out of a rut,” continued Mr. Tetley. “The best way to get out of a rut is to make a new rut. An affirmation is a positive feedback loop that rewires your brain chemistry. Often an inspiration will come to you. Have any of you heard of feng shui? The most energetic part of the house is the southwest corner. So look to the southwest and the affirmation will arise. If your goal is to own a party planning business, that is a good goal. You might want to take steps. Work for someone
who knows the business. First off, I am going to hand out these affirmations on these pieces of paper that I have found to be extremely helpful. I’ll read it out loud and then we can read it together. Does everyone have one? Let’s read the first line together. I AM PROSPEROUS. It’s the most powerful aspiration you can have if you want to change your life. Yes, Chemistry, if you could continue passing those around. Make sure everyone gets one. Now together. Everyone. I. AM. PROSPEROUS. Wait. There’s a trick here. What’s the most important word?”

“I,” someone said.

“That’s right. Actually,
I AM
. This is really important. I want all of your eyeballs on me. Again. I. Am. Prosperous. I. Am. Prosperous.”

“Not yet,” said Chemistry to himself.

“No!” I whispered to him. “The point is that you are prosperous right now! Right now!” He grinned at me as if he understood.

“I AM PROSPEROUS,” Mr. Tetley said in capital letters. “My innate, natural, original self is prosperous.”

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Yes, Mr. Makashvili?”

“Please explain the meaning of original self?”

“I mean the thing that you want the most is your essential self. For example. You want that car.”

“I changed my mind,” I said.

“Okay, so what does your original self want?”

“I want a business. But if I was my original self I do not think I would need a business.”

“Another way of thinking of it is this way. What is the most important thing for you at the time of your death, Mr. Makashvili?”

“At the time of my death? I don’t want to die in the poison oak. But that is out of my control.”

“No. Now this is a difficult thing for most people to understand. Somewhere you decided what kind of death you wanted. Just like you have created this moment right now. To learn from. Everyone is an expression of creativity itself because we have created this moment right now.”

“Can we listen to that song again? Time to wake up?” Chemistry asked.

“Well, first look at your goals on your million dollar bill. Do you have any million-dollar ideas? Find the one that motivates you. That’s what you’re going to put energy into. Here’s a grid. Pass that around. On this grid you can put down the steps to reach your goals. Let’s try a fun exercise. Imagine what you will be doing in ten years. Don’t forget about your other goals. I’m sorry. Are there any leftover goal sheets? This young lady is missing one.”

Chemistry showed me the square where you write the affirmation for that goal. It was empty. “What here?” he asked. I pointed to the heater. “You’re supposed to look in the southwest direction. Wait until something arises. Look for a need. Find a need that should be filled.”

As the first week progressed I didn’t know how to tell Merrick, and especially not Susan, that I had no intention of opening a fish packaging factory in Georgia, that I was more interested in learning how to get people to follow the law in Georgia.

Chemistry wanted to learn marketing strategies for packaging his mother’s camel hair socks to make them appealing to the passengers on the Trans-Turk railroad. “The problem is that in one hundred and ten degree weather no one wants any socks,” he said. He needed a logo that would remind people of the wintertime. Sergei wanted to sell the bee pollen venom from the apiary he had built in the forest behind his house. Misha wanted to work with the new boxcar construction company opening in Tikhvin, Russia, to open a tourist line.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Susan told Misha.

“As for me,” I told Susan, “it will be difficult to come up with a feasible business plan because my boss already has a monopoly on the sea, flying his fake flags. As far as business pursuits, maritime law is a dead end venture for me. Especially because no one follows the law in Georgia, on the land or the sea.”

“The law of the sea? You mean for the fish?” Misha asked, trying to make a joke.

“You obviously don’t understand the law of the sea,” I told him, “because you are a Russian and a man of the river.”

On the first day in the cafeteria’s buffet line, Misha wouldn’t talk to me because he said I spoke Russian with a Polish accent. I told him that I didn’t even want to speak Russian, that Russian people are nothing like Georgian people. A few days later, though, when he realized that I was from Batumi, on the Black Sea, he remembered what a
romantic
place Batumi was, and from that day on he only wanted to tell me about when his cousin Piotr visited there in the summer once. After that Misha always sat next to me and was my role-playing business partner when we role-played business deal simulations. He was A-Man and I was B-Man:

A: I’m so happy to meet with you today. I think we can create a win/win.

B: Let’s thank our financial counselor, first, for coming all the way from Concord.

A: When will we wrap up our quarter profits?

B: Oh, look at the time!

And because it is important to eat, I added, “Buffet time!”

Misha complained to Susan about me. “Listen to this guy. He is not taking this seriously.” He began to taunt me. “In your country, do your business deals consist of
meh meh
?”

“
Meh, meh
?” I asked.

“Because you sell so many sheep to Qatar?”

“Just because we sell sheep to Qatar doesn’t mean we speak sheep language!”

Susan heard us talking and thought we were being serious. But we were only joking. In Georgia we say of our Russian friends, “He’s a Russian, but he’s okay,” and then we kiss their cheeks and it irritates them because they don’t like to kiss as much as Georgians.

When I got home after the business seminars, all I could do was lie down on the bed and stare at the farmer cheese pattern on the ceiling. I had made it to America, yes, but under the false pretext of claiming
I wanted to learn how to package fish. I thought about other businesses I could start instead. I could open my own carpet cleaning business, haul vacuums around in a van, expand it into an extended family of vacuums, an extended family of vans. Or I could take a salesman training course and sell those eye massagers—the ones that look like what Merrick wears to keep out tar fumes when he’s on the roof—that I’d heard Russians buy on TV.

In the back of my mind, though, I couldn’t forget about my friend Vano. He had worked for a SWAT team in Georgia, but now he worked for a concrete company in Michigan. He said he could get me a job there. It was not an option that filled me with happy feelings. It was a last resort.

In the living room Charlie was sitting on the green reclining chair and flwip, flwipping through Merrick’s ninety-eight television stations. Lying back in the warm, well-lighted house, trying to improve my English skills, I listened to the modern sound of America: “As the CEO of our firm, I reevaluated our whole business strategy. I had to tell our lenders, ‘You will never get between us and our customers,’ and as I said, that lender became one of our better partners. You need to be able to send out enough volume and that really requires capital. That quarter we raised over a hundred million dollars. Most of it we spent on marketing and advertising. That’s equal to one percent of all mortgages of the United States.”