The immigrants feel the inability to communicate just as poignantly outside their jobs. Jackie Kaminsky of the JFCS observes that "people's self-esteem is very tied in with how well they feel they can express themselves." One immigrant recalls her frustration with not being able to communicate with the people around her. "When I started to speak, I started to understand. This took more than a year. Without language, I couldn't tell anyone anything, I felt like a dog. But when I started to speak with people, I found that I often knew the same things, I had the same feelings about things."

What at first seems "like another planet, another world, a place where everything is completely different," gradually becomes comfortingly familiar. Before this happens, however, immigrants must overcome a natural tendency to speak only Russian, especially at home. David Taube, who arrived from Leningrad with his family last December, recognizes that the "lack of language is an interruption of cultural development. Because of this, immigrants live in a very closed environment, and often it is very difficult to overcome this circle. Some people don't want to widen the circle."

This failure to "widen the circle" is experienced by older immigrants, who are frightened to begin a new life and learn a new, unfamiliar language. Younger immigrants, especially children, adjust faster to the language and thus outstrip their parents in adapting to American society. This, sociologists say, sometimes results in a lack of communication between parents and children. However Natasha and Marina Taube, ages seven and ten, respectively, are as close as ever to their parents.

For all their enthusiasm toward their new life, most immigrants feel that it is important that their children not lose a feel for the Russian--but not the Soviet--language and culture. They try to view life in America objectively, neither accepting all of it nor rejecting life in Russia as a matter of course. Certain things--like mushrooms--are simply not as good in the United States.

Almost all the immigrants feel the relationship of an individual to his or her religion is healthier on this side of the Atlantic. One way or another, it was because of Judaism that most of the immigrants got up enough courage to apply for an exit visa. Thus, when they arrive in the U.S., most immigrants have a decision to make. The decision is based on the fact that the vast majority of Soviet Jews are not religious. The opportunity to follow religious customs, or even to become familiar with them, for the most part does not exist. The choice thus is between continuing to live as before--without religion in their daily lives--or to reassert their faith once they have the opportunity. Few Jewish immigrants choose the former route. Most, at least in a cultural sense, become emotionally or socially involved with the religion and the Boston Jewish community.

Some describe their feelings toward Judaism as a sort of a longing, which they felt even when they lived in the Soviet Union. "Even in Russia," says one immigrant, "I wanted to be with Jews, I only had Jewish friends; with them I felt more community."

Most immigrants, however, do not connect this feeling with religion; instead, it is just a cultural phenomenon. Most Soviet Jews, says Taube, are interested in Jewish customs, but for ethnic rather than religious reasons. He continues, "Some American Jewish leaders become upset because they don't see enthusiasm in a pure religious sense. They don't understand that in the USSR Judaism is not a religious problem."

Once the decisions are made and American life is adjusted to, most immigrants can find time to laugh about their early experiences. Maria Rubinova, who made the trip from Leningrad to Ithaca, N.Y., about six years ago, recalls a typical frustration. It happened when she had been in the country for only a few weeks and spoke almost no English. While searching in vain for the post office, she finally got up enough courage to ask directions.

"Could you tell me, please, where is the post office?" she said to a passerby in barely passable and heavily accented English.

"Sure," the man answered, "just go right to the left."

Maria just didn't understand.