Tag #120461 - Interview #87387 (Rifca Segal)

Purim is celebrated on the 14 of Adar. Megillat Ester is read on the eve of Purim, the Story of Ester. They read this at the synagogue, not at home. And then, still on the eve of Purim, father performed the table ceremonies, he read the prayers specific for Purim. You prepare a festive table laden with all this world’s goodies, if you have the money to buy them. Housewives vied with one another with their cooking, who cooked better food. Everyone cooks whatever they want, but sweets are a must. They baked cream cakes, cookies, and those triangular cookies in particular – which resembled Haman’s hat – which were called hamantashen. I never bragged, for I never took care of that – I devoted myself to my profession. And parents sent children with sweets to relatives, friends, and each friend sent something in return. [Ed. note: Mrs. Segal is referring to shelakhmones here, sweets given to friends as gifts.] You could have friends over on Purim, relatives. Or we called on someone, we visited my mother’s sister, my husband’s brother. It wasn’t obligatory for us to celebrate it at our place, we called on one another on Purim. It was beautiful…

I only wore a mask as a child, in Sulita. And my mother gave me sweets to take to her friends. I wore my mother’s skirt, my mother’s jacket, her high heel shoes, on which I was really breaking my legs, and I wore a veil to cover my face, so that I wasn’t recognized, and I couldn’t see where I was going. But they recognized me immediately. I didn’t wear a face mask. Some wore masks as well, and they went from house to house. Those who wore masks also called on other people’s houses on the eve of the holiday, the second and the third day after the holiday. There were gypsies living in Sulita. And gypsies play the violin. And they went from house to house with a violin, an accordion, a cembalo, and they played Jewish songs for us, typical Jewish songs, and they were given money, so that they turned an honest penny. And the lights were on everywhere, it was so beautiful… Until 1941 – a fatidic year. Everything went to pieces in Botosani. We had no heart for all that in Botosani. We were even afraid. We still observed tradition, I can’t say that we didn’t. But people didn’t visit one another like they used to. We were in dire straits. These customs have disappeared.