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I had a happy and peaceful childhood. We played all kinds of games - 'kralio [king] - portalio [gate]', hide-and-seek, tag, 'handkerchief', 'ring', 'telephone' and many others. There was a large space in front of my granny's house and we used to play there, not in the street. I had a friend from the neighboring house. Her name was Katya and she wasn't Jewish. In the afternoon every child used to go out with a slice of bread with jam spread over it. We used to prepare everything at home. We made rechel [Turkish; boiled and condensed juice made of grape, sugar-cane, sugar-beat or pears, sometimes with pieces of pumpkin or fruits added] butter-dishes - strung up walnuts, which were several times dipped into a farina gruel, sugar and must. This resulted in 'sausages' that we used to cut. My granny also made something of rice, which she left in water in order to soften and then she prepared it.
My sister Greta was born in Sliven on 17th September 1933. I was very jealous of her. She was rather spoiled, because she was a very beautiful child with huge eyes, and people paid attention only to her. Once, I don't know how it happened, I was hit by a cart. Fortunately I wasn't wounded at all, but everyone got pretty scared. I remember I was lying on the ground and people were bustling around me, when I suddenly said: 'Come on, come on, I know you aren't worried that much about me!' It is the baby only that you love!' Later, when we grew up, my sister in return felt somehow neglected. There was probably nothing like that. My grandpa, for example, gave open preference to the youngest person in the family. He always loved the last-born child, and ignored all the rest.
I started my education in the Jewish school in Sliven. It was situated in a large building. I don't remember what there was on the first floor, but we were on the second floor - one teacher's room and two very big classrooms. We had two teachers - one in Ivrit and one in all the other subjects. We were four classes altogether, two in each one of the classrooms, but the teachers managed to teach us. At the end of the year inspectors came from the Ministry of Education in order to examine us, and we always got excellent marks. My mother had also studied in that school; she had learned Ivrit there. At that time school was until the 7th grade. Mrs. Ester was our teacher-of-everything and she was an amazing teacher! The other teacher, poor one, seemed to be quite ill and always nervous. She also taught us the Torah, songs, etc. which later helped me to freshen up my Ivrit and learn new things. I still recall these songs. My sister also studied in this school.
Our preparation in the Jewish school was so good that when we entered secondary school all of us were excellent students. I remember my literature teacher from this period - she was a good teacher, and there was another one, the geography teacher, whom we disliked. Then there was a young history teacher, with whom all schoolgirls were in love. In our singing classes we were taught to sing Rhodope Mountain songs; we also had a choir. The scariest teacher was the one in maths. Once during a term test my cousin asked me to give her a hint and the teacher saw me. In order to punish me he ordered me out of the classroom and gave me a poor mark. I have never felt so ashamed in my entire life! Although my uncle was a friend of his and asked him to test me, he didn't do it and gave me a four [that is C] at the end of the year. I suffered a lot then.
My favorite school subjects were Bulgarian, history and, later, in high school chemistry, perhaps because of the teacher. I also liked my history teacher; not everybody liked her. She was cold, yet very logical in terms of her teaching method. Everything was in its place; she wasn't emotional, yet she spoke convincingly. Later we had a teacher in drawing, whom all of my classmates used to adore and I solely disliked, because she used to speak like an actress, with a kind of pathos that didn't impress me. I didn't like maths and I didn't understand physics. I loved French. Initially my mother found me a teacher, who actually didn't teach me anything. Later I continued with a teacher, who had graduated in France. She taught me the basics, but I still couldn't speak the language. Many years after that, maybe in 1964 it happened so that we were in Zakopane, Poland, on some kind of holiday on an exchange basis, and there were Italians, Spaniards and French. With the latter I wanted to speak in French, yet it turned out that I couldn't. Then I started studying the language very hard with a teacher, whose mother was French. Well, I still don't know it perfectly, but I manage. I speak with few mistakes and read criminal novels.
My sister Greta was born in Sliven on 17th September 1933. I was very jealous of her. She was rather spoiled, because she was a very beautiful child with huge eyes, and people paid attention only to her. Once, I don't know how it happened, I was hit by a cart. Fortunately I wasn't wounded at all, but everyone got pretty scared. I remember I was lying on the ground and people were bustling around me, when I suddenly said: 'Come on, come on, I know you aren't worried that much about me!' It is the baby only that you love!' Later, when we grew up, my sister in return felt somehow neglected. There was probably nothing like that. My grandpa, for example, gave open preference to the youngest person in the family. He always loved the last-born child, and ignored all the rest.
I started my education in the Jewish school in Sliven. It was situated in a large building. I don't remember what there was on the first floor, but we were on the second floor - one teacher's room and two very big classrooms. We had two teachers - one in Ivrit and one in all the other subjects. We were four classes altogether, two in each one of the classrooms, but the teachers managed to teach us. At the end of the year inspectors came from the Ministry of Education in order to examine us, and we always got excellent marks. My mother had also studied in that school; she had learned Ivrit there. At that time school was until the 7th grade. Mrs. Ester was our teacher-of-everything and she was an amazing teacher! The other teacher, poor one, seemed to be quite ill and always nervous. She also taught us the Torah, songs, etc. which later helped me to freshen up my Ivrit and learn new things. I still recall these songs. My sister also studied in this school.
Our preparation in the Jewish school was so good that when we entered secondary school all of us were excellent students. I remember my literature teacher from this period - she was a good teacher, and there was another one, the geography teacher, whom we disliked. Then there was a young history teacher, with whom all schoolgirls were in love. In our singing classes we were taught to sing Rhodope Mountain songs; we also had a choir. The scariest teacher was the one in maths. Once during a term test my cousin asked me to give her a hint and the teacher saw me. In order to punish me he ordered me out of the classroom and gave me a poor mark. I have never felt so ashamed in my entire life! Although my uncle was a friend of his and asked him to test me, he didn't do it and gave me a four [that is C] at the end of the year. I suffered a lot then.
My favorite school subjects were Bulgarian, history and, later, in high school chemistry, perhaps because of the teacher. I also liked my history teacher; not everybody liked her. She was cold, yet very logical in terms of her teaching method. Everything was in its place; she wasn't emotional, yet she spoke convincingly. Later we had a teacher in drawing, whom all of my classmates used to adore and I solely disliked, because she used to speak like an actress, with a kind of pathos that didn't impress me. I didn't like maths and I didn't understand physics. I loved French. Initially my mother found me a teacher, who actually didn't teach me anything. Later I continued with a teacher, who had graduated in France. She taught me the basics, but I still couldn't speak the language. Many years after that, maybe in 1964 it happened so that we were in Zakopane, Poland, on some kind of holiday on an exchange basis, and there were Italians, Spaniards and French. With the latter I wanted to speak in French, yet it turned out that I couldn't. Then I started studying the language very hard with a teacher, whose mother was French. Well, I still don't know it perfectly, but I manage. I speak with few mistakes and read criminal novels.
Location
Bulgaria
Interview
Rosa Kolevska