RE: [Cz-L] Reminiscences from Anny Matar

Another triggered reminiscence,
 
When those Polish refugees came to Czernowitz (because of the Ribbentrop/Molotov pact and the division of their land) it was fashionable to have them as guests for a time until they could go on and find another country as asilum.
 
We had a jewish journalist and his daughter for a fortnight- his wife and other daughter, for some reason went through the north, I think Sweden and they tried to get into contact with them and in the end succeeded.
Of all possible names his was Stefan Zweig (no relation to the famous writer).
 
They were very cultured people, also spoke German but here I remember the different cultural Polish versus Rumanian angle as it manifested itself in the domain of cuisine.The girl was a little older than me (about 13), she liked my mother's cooking, was enthusiastic about the Vinete (melanzani) she had never tried before, but unfortunately had never seen nor eaten those black Greek olives served with the vinete and did not know that they had a hard kernel inside. The result was a nearly broken tooth.
 
Wonder how they got around the war in continuation. Is there a chance somebody of their family reads our correspondence?
 
Berti
 
 
 
 
 Subject: [Cz-L] Reminiscences from Anny Matar
> From: romers_at_shaw.ca
> To: czernowitz-L_at_cornell.edu
> CC: annymatar_at_gmail.com
> Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2009 21:48:44 -0800
>
> Czernowitzers... Anny wanted this to go to you as well as me:
>
> Dear Jerome, I always find that other people's stories trigger something
> in me and make me think back. I actually had a very short "teen" life in
> Cernowitz. Age 10 Gymnasium Carmen Silva (you probable were too young to
> have even heard the name) then one year away in the Notre Dame Galatz
> -recalled to Czernowitz 1939 with the arrival of refugees from Poland
> (because of my step-Father's business my parents couldn't? leave town),
> on my return Hoffman Gymnasium (two minutes walk to my house). What made
> me think of home? A program shown here of Polish Jews now living in the
> U.S.A. Of course they lost their families there but they themselves left
> before W.W/2. They all came from, what they called a Steital, but
> although much smaller than our town it was most reminicent. The people
> people spoke about their homes always full of people -family / friends /
> neighbors - the warmth in which they grew up never feeling lonely, never
> being alone. (You could see how much they miss this in the U.S. and
> their language was most accentuated Jidish). They spoke about the
> laughter, the shared joy with childhood friends, later the different
> Zionist movements which each one joined and the laughter. They so much
> stressed the laughter as though they never did that again so
> wholeheartedly and the walks on their main street (our Herrengasse)
> meeting their friends, boys and girls walking arm in arm laughing. The
> photos they showed were of young people walking. Why were all the
> pictures taken while walking? The photographers took quick snapshots,
> handed out their cards and you went to fetch them if you wanted to. (I
> wonder how many thousands were left in those shops and how many stories
> they could tell about the living and the dead. All these stories were so
> close to home and so many memories of walking arm in arm with friends,
> laughing finding everything funny enough to laugh about, watching people
> walking past and my friends, 2years older than I, who knew all the
> gossip about those passing by, made funny or "piquant" remarks about
> them and we LAUGHED real belly laughter. However hard the situation at
> home might have been, here we were young full of joi de vivre, being
> unaware that sooner or later we'll be separated by war and only few of
> us found each other again and were able to take up where we left off.
> I'll forever be grateful to my dearest friend friend Vicky Gedaly who
> introduced me to my short teenage life at home and with whom, although
> we were separated for 10 years, could pick up where we left off, even
> laugh together although, to my greatest regret, illnesses have taken
> their toll, and Ilana is our messenger of love.
>
> Now, dear Jerome, I can't get through to CL... somehow I don't manage
> the "secret" code and I thought you like Manses so I'm sending this to
> you. Thank you for your patience reading it, Regards, anny

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Received on 2009-11-19 08:55:06