I BELIEVE IN YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

A Russian bride comes to America to meet her new husband and to share the promise of the good life in the legendary land of milk and honey. To her dismay, her husband is abusive, both physically and mentally, demonstrates no love for her and has a mistress. To make matters worse she discovers he is also a con man involved in a number of criminal activities and forces her into his criminal schemes.

About The Author

Svetlana Taboada movingly chronicles the sadness and disappointment of betrayal as only one can that has experienced it. The author presents a great manuscript filled with emotion and inner thoughts as she causes the reader experience her pain. This is an inspiring true story by a very talented writer.

e-BOOK

Maverick Publishing

HOUSTON, TEXAS

I BELIEVE

YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

A TRUE STORY

e-Book 2004

www.mittymax.com

I BELIEVE IN YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

e-Book

Maverick Publishing

HOUSTON, TEXAS

I BELIEVE IN YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

DEDICATION

To Maryanne Pollard, an Angel

And best friend, who loved me.

SVETLANA TABOADA

I BELIEVE IN YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

This is the day, which the Lord hath made;

We will rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalms 118:24

I BELIEVE IN YOU

SVETLANA TABOADA

INTRODUCTION

“I want to go and travel, before I will get married”, -my stepson told me. Yes, I remember when I was a teen I wanted to do the same thing; I was attracted to exploring the world. Now, when I “tried its fruit”, and I realized that nothing is better than home -I wish I never had chased after my dream…”

SVETLANA TABOADA

BOOK ONE

MY AMERICAN TEEN DREAM

When I was a teen I was dreaming of USA. There was always something about this country that always attracted my attention- I loved watching movies and programs about USA. It always gave me a feeling of desire to ” be there”, and I loved to think about it. But those desires were just dreams, nice thoughts to rest on, with no opportunity at that time yet.

I was fascinated by the ability of people to master another language; to a teen like me it was mystical, admirable and attractive. I loved to study English in a High School, it was one of my favorite classes, and I was good at it. I wanted to apply it sometimes, and I was fortunate to have this knowledge.

My first opportunity to use my English skills came upon me about five years since I had graduated from school, but I still remembered a lot of words. One beautiful spring day I was flipping through the paper that was very popular in the city, I came across the ad about a job that required some English. It magnetized my attention. I kept rereading it, trying to define the background of it and, may be trying to guess: “Does it sound like a real job? It was a very unusual ad. “ It might be a job to work with foreigners”, looked unreal at that time: my city was about a million people in population, but you could ever hardly meet anyone from another country. I really wanted to show up for this opportunity, and find out if it was anything worthy, yet I have already sensed that something was out there for me, I wanted be there and be a part of it. I called for an appointment.

Dressed up and feeling pretty anxious, I was going my way: “I wish I could get this job” .The presentational meeting was held in a large movie theater. It gathered about two hundred people for the same reason; a lot of people were getting ready for an opening.

So here it was - a company from England, that represented RCI - they were looking for salespersons to sell timeshares.

I was happy! I was chosen to be a representative and I was excited. My journey had been presented a chance to begin. That is how I had started to learn more about a different life, different people with different values from different culture. They never would get drunk on the parties. Those several gentlemen from England were different in the way they behaved, presented and treated us. They seemed so intelligent. I was getting more and more interested in learning about it. Of course, my English was enough to say a couple of sentences, but still it was frustrating -I wanted to practice a conversation.

This job was the most satisfying job I have ever had. I was an accounting clerk full time before and that could get very boring. This job was always “a fiesta”-nice dress up outfits, relaxing atmosphere. We would sit with customers at the tables and the show was very attractive: nice catalogs, tapes and slides about having a vacation for a lifetime in different resorts for the whole family. Sometimes we could have a very lucky day -one could make 50-200$ for a couple hours of fun, and that was back in 1995! It would make good money for a short period.

Regularly, we would be given a party for a group, and on one of those gathering parties I met Tanya. From the conversation I found out that she had been in USA as a visitor, and had a lot of experience. She had told me: ”Look, Aurelia you can meet a very good man in USA”, -she told me, and I was glad, she did. I found out from her that men in USA traditionally non-drinkers, that they care for the family, and do spend time with children. That was something that I would never be able to find in Russia. This idea was totally attractive to me: I wanted it. I wanted to have a family with a good man, too. I thought that it was not real to find someone like that in Russia-I would certainly find there some heavy-drinker, who would have no morals, no goals and desires.

The company worked successfully through the summer, and in September they left. All of us as a group were thankful for all those days of fun. They were leaving, but not my dreams…

Tanya offered me a free help, she placed my ad through the regular snail mail - we had not a lot of Internet back then. I thought I would give it a try. An ad with my picture to find a right one was placed, and in a two-month period mail started to pour into my mailbox.

Tanya was a source of information, a mentor, and a kind guide. As a matter of fact at the moment she lives in New Zealand, I wish her happiness and success, she truly deserves.

Chain of letters.

Now I was getting letters from men from USA, I had a few to choose from. I was excited, full of hope. I was still naive and had an attitude of relying on myself -“ was all grown up”.

"Oh, it is going to be OK, " - I had a positive attitude and was hoping on some sort of luck I might get. I had started to get a lot of letters from all the Europe, Germany. Most of them were in German, and I did not care about German. Yet my English was poor, and communication with men would not be very successful, but it was slowly improving conversational English and it was slowly, but improving. After half a year of correspondence with a nice man from Australia, we have started to make plans to meet; I just had to wait to finish my College degree. Our plans never came true and in several months he just disappeared.

My destiny had soon presented me the One He was cute, Hispanic, (I just loved it). His letter almost got lost, and went to different address, but the people were honest, and returned it to me. The destiny might of tried to give me some sign, but it was hardly noticeable by me.

How and why would I choose him? He sounded different from other men. He sounded sweet, mature, interested, and easy to communicate with, patient, he wrote me a poem! Now, thinking of this actually poem, I realize that it was not about me; it was about him, and his ambitions. He also would do an “extra” effort about almost everything. He would send me a videotape of himself in a white stunning suite -very impressive, and on a tape he would let my parents know that he wants to marry me (Aaahh! but forgot to mention me that he had not got a divorce with his first wife). On the tape he would let my parents know how nice he was going to treat me, and how much he is been honored. He was writing me long-long letters, faxes, e-mails, called me “honey", and said that he bought a house for us. He would call me two times a week and we would talk for four hours at a time. I was carried away by my dreams and hopes for my prince.

“We really should not talk so much on the phone, dear” I would tell him. I was worried about all the money he was using on the calls.

“So, “assumed my analytical mind, “If he talks so much time to me, I will be able talk to my parents with no problems” (Yeah, right)

His parents were from South America, and he had a sister.

Carl was always sweet, polite, and we could talk long hours. Basically, he would talk most of the time, about job, his mentor, and his success. He would sing me a song for my Birthday, and would tell me cute stories that he sleeps on the floor, and had no one to cook for him. I believed that it was true and felt bad for him, or he would tell me he was hungry, because he has no one to cook for him,

“Poor Carl, so lonely, he just need someone to share life with someone to care for him”, - I naturally thought with a sympathy and willing to care for him.

“What kind of food do you like?”- I asked him, and he sounded to be almost a universal eater. Hey, the way he would show off, he sounded a “perfect one". And I was totally happy with my luck and choice. Of course, I believed everything he said was truth. I had to learn a lot of lessons from my relationship with him and one of them was that not everybody was going to be as honest as I am. Since he sounded in love and I was interested in his personality the way he presented himself, soon we started to make plans to meet, and may be-to get married.

I had girlfriends, who also were involved in correspondence with men. Some of them were my close friends. “I had a funny dream", Olga said to me, “about you and Carl: as you came to USA to him, and everything is so bad around there for you, everything is wrong. We were looking for you everywhere and could not find you," just an awful dream.

“It is just a silly dream”, I did not want to think about it ever again,”- There is nothing wrong, they just do not know him at all, after all, they just jealous, my man is 22, and smarter, than their men. I believed him, and I myself did not have “any bad dreams”. Carl talked about his devotion to family and loyalty, values of the marriage and kids…

"He is so sweet," I assumed and my heart was not helping me to do the right choice. Besides, I thought, what is the sense of him lying to me at all, or being dishonest? It takes a lot of time and money to make marriage like that to happen. Honesty was always a big value to me. I never doubt of him being not honest, it would just never crossed my mind at that time .If lie would show up, and a marriage would be over, and it is not worth it, - he would risk all his efforts to nothing.

He wanted to come to Russia and marry me! It sounded like he was committed. I was looking for marriage and hoped to have kids in the future, after adaptation to the place. I thought that also it was a safe way to go to USA having a status of wife, he would protect me from any harm, my husband to be.

I must admit I had a wonderful ability to ensure myself that “ everything is going to be fine”, and that I will always find a way of defining my and even our future and how it is going to be.

So, my parents were anxious, my mother wanted me to be happy, but did not like the idea, father was quiet skeptical and did not express much interest, my dear sister was working on creating me a wedding dress from “Buda Modern”, my friends were “watching me doing my thing ", -they could not stop me, I was slipping away on the clouds of my assumptions…

The way I saw my future to be.

My sister Arina accompanied me to the Airport in Moscow; I needed help with the luggage. We took the train and the bus and the train again. It was a cold winter and I could not wait to get off in New Jersey- the weather supposed to be nice there. I was scared to leave and also, excited, believing in the new future that would be better for all of us to start. I was hoping that I would be able to start working or, until then, my husband would help me to give some support to my parents. I felt bad for my mother- she was very sensitive, very loving and very sacrificing person. She never had me away for long periods of time.

Once, when I was eighteen I took off on vacation. I had been already working at the time and I was offered a vacation to the Black Sea, Russia. My Company would pay for eighty five percent of the cost for that trip as a benefit. I was away for the whole month. My mom was surprised that I went by myself, but I was always determined to do what I wanted. If I wanted to go and I had an opportunity, I would take it. I was hungry for experiencing the places, with different climates, beautiful; besides, it was nice to be on my own for a while.

Now it was different. I was leaving. I had an intention and the belief that it would be easy to travel back and forward, and that I would bring my parents to visit me and my husband, that I would make money working very soon, and our family would get better. I have build in my mind the idea of a perfect life that “everything” would work out .I was hoping on the loving husband and mutual loyalty, commitment to stay together, just like my parents that were never separated. I hoped on the honesty, kindness and understanding from his side. The family of Carl’s parents had everything, and mine were hoped that things would get better. I was raised in the family that would practice of giving out a lot of help to others and was sensitive to other people’s troubles. I hoped for a committed, supportive family.

My parents were courageous, modest and hardworking people, I believed they deserved a better life. In my vision I would not only see the opportunity to create my life and have a husband who really cares, to have kids, but I had an intention and desire to give my parents some things that they deserved.

My airplane was in the air, on my way to New York. To the place I have never been before, leaving my own family behind. Behind, to make everyone life’s better. O, those daring, self-reliant thoughts!

“It’s all going to be OK”, -with my hope I was stepping in my new, absolutely unknown life of being in another country with the person my family trusted enough to let me go.

“Everything will be O.K.”, -my hopeful thoughts were soothing the way, keeping me comfortably slipping into my final destination -“America”.

Welcome to America.

Carl met me in the Airport. He was smiling, standing in the crowd of people with the rose in his hand. He got a “limo” to bring me to his house. We stopped by his office of Real Estate on the way home and he introduced to me his “mentor”. Then we went to his house. It was a house in a beautiful location. When we came into it, Carl’s mother was home. That is when he would tell me the “news”:

“My parents and my sister live here”.

That was a surprise for me. I felt confused, fooled.

"He never has told me that his parents were living with him also .He said before that they lived in the city and he was on his own, all by himself, that he has no one to cook for him and so on!” but reality was shocking. His parents were from South America and spoke a very little English and I was not ready for that.

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