[Cz-L] Re: Memories

Thank you Arthur !

You do give me the opportunity to tell you also my story .......
I do not have your talent for writing beautiful stories, but I will try to
speak about my first visit to Czernowitz in 1996 :

I had a very big "MAZAL", because I found the house that my grand-parents
did build themselves in 1925, near the small old wooden church "Nikolaï", in
the Dreiglockengasse where : NOTHING HAD CHANGED since 50 years !!!
A very old couple of Ukrainians used to live there, I did not meet them,
they died just before I came.

Between the different rooms which I did recognize more or less inside the
house, the image of the kitchen came back to me very clearly, we used to
spend there most of the time.
I found the big black stove, where my grandmother used to cook very good
food, and where she used to bake all kind of pastries and cakes which were
very well known among all the friends of her 4 children, they all came there
specially for the wonderful cakes .......
And, what I immediately recongnized, was the door-handle of yellow metal to
enter the kitchen : it was probably at the same height than me at that time
.......

The next year, 1997, some rich ukrainian young couple did buy this house,
and started to change everything ..... I did meet this couple afterwards,
they are nice people. Now it is a very modern house, nobody could recognize
it anymore !!

P.S. Don't worry, I do not know, and I do not understand Russian.

--------------------------------------------------
From: "Arthur von Czernowitz" <vonczernowitz_at_yahoo.com>
Sent: Thursday, January 06, 2011 10:28 PM
To: "Czernowitz List" <Czernowitz-L_at_cornell.edu>
Cc: "Lydia Schmerler" <lydia.sch_at_dbmail.com>
Subject: Memories

>
> Lydia, this is for you.
>
>
> Memories,
> August 2010, I wanted to visit my grandmother’s house.
>
> I called a taxi to take me to the house. The taxi arrived and the driver
> said “kuda” (where) and I said “Prinyat mene dom moye babushka, na ulitze
> Kosmodemianskoy”, (take me to my grandmother’s house in Kosmodemianskoy
> street). He starts driving and we pass the Rusischegasse but he drives
> the wrong way. I tell the driver “vidite eto dom, eto gde ya rodidiltza”
> (you see this house, this is where I was born). I tell the driver turn
> around and drive strait to my grandmother’s house without detours as I
> know this city and that I am not a tourist. We arrive at the house, I
> knock and the door is opened by young lady, she asks me what I want; I
> tell her that I would like to see the interior of the house as this house
> use to be my grandmother’s house. She tells me that it is impossible; she
> tells me that the house belongs to her own grandmother. I tell her OK, I
> have no desire of taking this house away from you and all that I want, is
> to
> see the inside of the house. My taxi driver tells her to let me in and
> that he does not see a problem. She lets me in, I walk in to the kitchen,
> gone is the “pripicheck” the place where my father and I used to sleep on
> top during the cold Czernowitzer winters and where my grandmother used to
> cook and bake those fabulous meals.
> Gone are the beautiful curtains and the old furniture. I thank the lady
> and she takes me to the door, and as I say goodbye, it clicks; I ask the
> lady if I can also see the cellar. She wants to know why and I say just
> for old times. The cellar was the place where my grandmother kept her
> wood for heating and cooking; also her (Vorräte)provisions like potatoes,
> onions, jars of pickles, the sauerkraut and her jars of schmaltz. We walk
> down the few steps, I walk over to the wooden column which is in the
> middle of the cellar and there it is my name which I carved before leaving
> Czernowitz in 1945. I show this to the lady, and tell her, you see it is
> my name “ARTUR”
>
> Arthur
>
> PS It was Artur without the H, the way it was written in Czernowitz at
> that time.
> Please do not correct my Russian.

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Received on 2011-01-06 16:33:12