There were several synagogues when I was a child, we had approximately 10 synagogues in Dorohoi. But I don’t remember which of them we attended and when we attended, for all of them were demolished. There was a mikveh in Dorohoi as well, but I never went there. It isn’t for girls, unmarried women. Women go there when they marry, and married women go there, too. I don’t know whether my mother went there or not.
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Fani Cojocariu
Purim was nice too, formerly, when there were many Jews. Children and even grown-ups wore masks – they covered their face with a mask, wore motley clothes, all sorts of things –, and they visited the people they knew, friends, to wish them well, and they were invited to come in, offered sweets. For people baked all sorts of cookies on Purim. Usually, people baked hamantashen, and some other dish – it was called fluden – which was stacked high, out of dough sheets stacked on top of one another and with filling in-between them, but it wasn’t really filling, it was made from walnuts, or Turkish delight, something like that… and it was compacted, for it was very high… Where could you see the likes of that nowadays? You couldn’t, that’s for sure. I never wore a mask on Purim. Perhaps my father did, but I don’t remember. Nevertheless, people came to our house wearing masks. I believe it was customary to send sweets to friends, but so many years have passed since then, how could I remember this anymore?
But after World War II they built a sukkah at the Community canteen. They hung corn, grapes, and apples inside it, and we, the guests, ate our meals there, both lunch and dinner.
On Oisana Raba [Hoshana Rabbah, the seventh day of Sukkot], still during the autumn holidays, a Jew came to our house as well – from the synagogue, he was employed to do this – with a lemon and with some sort of branch bearing leaves. [Editor’s note: Etrog is the Hebrew name for the citron. It is well known as one of the four species used in the rituals of Sukkot. The three types of branches: lulav, myrtle (hadas) and willow (aravah) branches and the etrog are held together and waved in a special ceremony.] And we smelled that lemon… Perhaps that man recited some prayers as well, I don’t know, that’s all he gave us – that lemon to smell it. Every day at dawn for several days in a row, he came with that lemon and that branch, as long as the holiday of Sichis [Sukkot] lasted. We didn’t make a sukkah at home.
When our parents were still alive, we observed the fast on Yom Kippur. And we went to the synagogue – both our parents and us. My father always attended the synagogue. Back then, they performed the religious service both in the morning and in the evening as well – that’s how it was formerly. Especially when the autumn holidays commenced, I don’t know what holiday exactly – either on Sichis [Sukkot], which lasts for 8 days, or on I don’t know what other holiday – he went there at the break of dawn to recite prayers. It was during the night, and he went to the synagogue to attend the religious service. This lasted 8 days, for he had to go there every day.
Romania
I seem to remember it is the rabbi who has to lie on the pillows. After World War II, when they celebrated Seder Nacht at the canteen of the Community, and rabbi Wasserman attended as well, he was dressed in white, he was wearing something resembling a robe – it appears that is the custom on Passover –, and I remember there was a white pillow for him to lie on. [Editor’s note: Mrs Cojocariu is referring here to the ritual of leaning. At several points during the Seder, participants lean to the left - when drinking the four cups of wine, eating the Afikoman etc. This ritual is associated with freedom. In ancient times only free people had the luxury of reclining while eating.
Before Pesach, you gathered the flour and bread from inside the house, if any, and I believe you set it on fire, you burned it. And a rabbi came and wrote with chalk on the kitchen walls, I remember, that this chametz should go to Christians, not to Jews. [Editor’s note: the chametz is leavened dough, fermented food, or any substance that is forbidden to be used during Passover.] But I had my own reckoning: “How so? Bread is so good all year long and all of a sudden you hate it on Passover? You develop a grudge against it and throw it away now?” And after all the chametz was removed from the house, as my father had customers from the countryside as well, they searched them when they entered the house: “You wouldn’t happen to have any bread on you?” “Oh my, take the bread outside, don’t enter the house with it!” Or if they happened to have wheat flour, perhaps that man – or woman, as was the case – happened to have bought some flour: “Oh my, oh my, it isn’t allowed, it isn’t allowed!”
Father went and bought matzah. Back then, there was a factory where they prepared matzah here, in the town, and father went there and bought it; or someone in charge of this brought it to us in a large basket or, if not, in a sack used especially for matzah. It wasn’t like today, in little boxes. And he bought a lot of matzah.
My mother would start to peel potatoes… whole buckets of them. On Passover, potatoes are used especially instead of bread. Since you aren’t allowed to eat bread… For matzah will never satisfy your appetite. You are also allowed to eat polenta, for a change, but people eat mostly potatoes on Passover. And what couldn’t one cook from potatoes? People prepared meatballs from raw potatoes or, if not, from boiled potatoes… the things you can cook from potatoes. The same goes for matzah flour – what can’t you make from it? Mother even used it to bake cookies, she made all sorts of things, she was such a good cook…
My father observed the Seder Nacht at home: he donned a tallit, and he read the Haggadah in Hebrew, he recited prayers. The celebration was prepared beautifully, with wine, with everything that is necessary. You don’t eat matzah during the first evening, you aren’t allowed to taste it. Even nowadays they still say that you aren’t allowed to eat matzah on the first evening. You are only allowed to eat boiled potatoes, horseradish, and parsley roots – something like that. And eggs, I think. But I think they said you aren’t allowed to eat meat on the first evening. The first evening was like a sort of fast. And on the second evening we ate matzah, and other, more varied dishes. On Seder Nacht we all had a glass on the table, and father gave wine to each child. I couldn’t tell you any details about the questions the father is asked [mah nishtanah] or about the opening of the door [waiting for the prophet Elijah]…
Father didn’t lie on pillows.
Father went and bought matzah. Back then, there was a factory where they prepared matzah here, in the town, and father went there and bought it; or someone in charge of this brought it to us in a large basket or, if not, in a sack used especially for matzah. It wasn’t like today, in little boxes. And he bought a lot of matzah.
My mother would start to peel potatoes… whole buckets of them. On Passover, potatoes are used especially instead of bread. Since you aren’t allowed to eat bread… For matzah will never satisfy your appetite. You are also allowed to eat polenta, for a change, but people eat mostly potatoes on Passover. And what couldn’t one cook from potatoes? People prepared meatballs from raw potatoes or, if not, from boiled potatoes… the things you can cook from potatoes. The same goes for matzah flour – what can’t you make from it? Mother even used it to bake cookies, she made all sorts of things, she was such a good cook…
My father observed the Seder Nacht at home: he donned a tallit, and he read the Haggadah in Hebrew, he recited prayers. The celebration was prepared beautifully, with wine, with everything that is necessary. You don’t eat matzah during the first evening, you aren’t allowed to taste it. Even nowadays they still say that you aren’t allowed to eat matzah on the first evening. You are only allowed to eat boiled potatoes, horseradish, and parsley roots – something like that. And eggs, I think. But I think they said you aren’t allowed to eat meat on the first evening. The first evening was like a sort of fast. And on the second evening we ate matzah, and other, more varied dishes. On Seder Nacht we all had a glass on the table, and father gave wine to each child. I couldn’t tell you any details about the questions the father is asked [mah nishtanah] or about the opening of the door [waiting for the prophet Elijah]…
Father didn’t lie on pillows.
She also had separate dishes for Passover – she took them down from the attic when Passover was approaching. For salt, for horseradish, for everything – all the dishes have to be replaced, to celebrate Passover.
My mother kept kosher, she had separate dishes for meat, for milk.
We had candlesticks and my mother lit the candles on Friday evening, she said the necessary prayer. I don’t know how many candles she lit, in fact I think people say you should light an odd number of candles – either 3, or 5, something like that.
They observed tradition, both my mother and my father.
We had very many hakhamim here, in our town, we had many rabbies – there aren’t any left anymore.
We had fowl at home, my father raised fowl – hens, ducks. As for slaughtering them, my mother took them to the hakham – that man who slaughters the fowl –, or it was my father who took them there. In the old days, the hakham even came at our house to slaughter the fowl, for there were many hakhamim here, in Dorohoi. I never looked when they slaughtered the fowl – I don’t want to see the fowl being killed.
My eldest sister, I tell you this in earnest – didn’t observe the Saturday and worked on that day. But our parents and us, the other 2 sisters, we didn’t work on Saturday. We didn’t even light the fire. On Saturdays, my parents had someone come over to light the fire, even from the street, whomever happened to be around.
My mother was a housewife, and my father was a shoemaker. They always worked at home, they had workers, apprentices – they had 2 workers hired at all times. Because back then things were not like today – we buy ready-made shoes in stores. Back then they were custom-made. My father had a lot of work, he knew his trade well.
I remember, what a hard life we led, ever since we were children. More than anything, we grew up as if we were living in orphanages. Our parents were ill all their life. The front door of our house wasn’t even locked, anyone at all could come in and take whatever they wanted. And we were out in the street. Our neighbors took pity on us and took a couple of us in, gave us shelter, food and a place to sleep. And that’s how we grew up… I know they even put us in a nursery – I don’t know who took us there.
Our parents were poor and ailing and ill – that’s how they were, that’s how I remember them. My mother was very anemic. And as the town of Chernivtsi was free in those days [that is, it belonged to Romania], that’s where my father had her hospitalized on many occasions – for the town was larger; compared to Dorohoi, Chernivtsi is larger.
,
Before WW2
See text in interview
We didn’t have a happy childhood, as other children did. It is a known fact that Jews especially raise their children very well, they give them milk, butter… We saw none of those. We led a very hard life. God forbid! My father managed to build that house as best as he could, with toil and bitterness, but he didn’t install any electricity, despite the fact that there was electricity downtown, and the post was in front of the house. I don’t know, to have the post in front of the house and not to install electricity… Because that’s what he thought: “We have to pay the bill for it eventually.” And they couldn’t afford it. We struggled with gas lamps our whole life! And whenever the lamp broke and they didn’t have another one to replace it with, as we had no extra one, my father took it and glued it back together with paper. And just as no electricity was installed, they didn’t make any terra cotta stoves, either. Had they at least built a brickwork stove or a kitchen range stove – they didn’t do that either. They installed a tin stove in the room, with wood as fuel, and it only gave a little heat, as long as the fire was burning, after which it became cold. Tin gets cold, it doesn’t stay warm like terra cotta. We were freezing. During winter, my mother – I remember – used to sweep whole basins of snow off the walls. During winter, we used to move from room to room until we reached the last room, and we were freezing with cold. My father bought potatoes for the winter, so that we had food to eat. We slept on the bed, and underneath the potatoes became as hard as stones. When we took the potatoes from underneath the bed, they rattled like stones! They froze inside the house. But you should see how water used to freeze… They didn’t let us leave the tiniest amount of water lying about over night as it turned to solid ice.
We had some relatives from my mother’s side as well, their name was Groper, the Groper family. They were 3 brothers – Bernardt was one of them, I no longer know the names of the other ones –, and they had a very large store. And my mother and father used to tell me: “When you were born, they [the Groper brothers] came and said: <<We heard that a child was born to you, we want to name it after our mother.>>” For that’s the Jewish tradition, people name children after dead relatives, so that the name is passed on, so that it isn’t lost. [Editor’s note: The custom of paying to a woman to name her newborn after a dead was common. Giving the dead's name to the newborn was even considered as a mitzvah (ritual commandment or generally any act of human kindness).] And, anyway, my parents accepted the name. When I grew a bit older, my parents used to send me to that store: “Go and tell them that you are Fani.” For they didn’t know me. The only time when they visited us was when they found out I was born. But did they come to see us afterwards? Did they ever come to see us? [No.] And I went to the respective shop. They said: “Oh… you are Fani?” “Yes.” “Here, take a pair of socks.” A pair of socks that cost 2, 3 lei – that’s what they gave me. But I was hoping for something more… But had I not gone there, they wouldn’t have come to see me at all. Niggardly people… I know they came to see me only once; a few candy in a little box – that’s what they brought me.
We had 2 rooms and a kitchen, and you passed from one into the other, they were in a row – like a train carriage. And there was a basement underneath for storing firewood – for we didn’t have a shed in the courtyard –, and we stored food in that basement, odds and ends. Our street was close to the street, in the front, and we had to walk along such a narrow walkway to reach the stairs leading to the basement, so narrow that I scraped against the wall of the house when I walked along it. About half a meter wide – that’s how wide the path to our courtyard was.
And when my father finished his military service, they moved back to Dorohoi. They paid rent, and when my father went to rent a place, the owner would ask: “Do you have any children?” “Yes.” That was it, they wouldn’t want him anymore, they didn’t rent him the room anymore. “Do you have any children?” “And how many children do you have?” – That was it! And that’s how they kept going from place to place. Until my father set his mind to building a place of his own, so that he wouldn’t have to pay other people anymore. And he obtained a narrow plot of land somewhere – as wide as the house, no wider –, for I don’t know how they worked on building the house. So he secured a small plot of land, and paid a contractor to build the house. It was located near the train station, on a street that was once called Carmen Silva, formerly; it was called Republicii St. lately, and now it is called George Enescu.
My parents got married in 1923. They met here, in Dorohoi, but I don’t know the circumstances, they didn’t tell us. My father probably came to the city to get married at some point, and he met my mother. They got married while he was doing his military service, that’s what they told us. My father did his military service in Iasi, and they lived there, my mother lived in Iasi as well during my father’s military service. It could be that my father’s military service lasted for 3 years – the military service was very long in those days. And our father told us how his officers loved him during the days of his military service – those people, the toffs, his superiors –, and how they cared for him.
My parents got married in 1923. They met here, in Dorohoi, but I don’t know the circumstances, they didn’t tell us. My father probably came to the city to get married at some point, and he met my mother. They got married while he was doing his military service, that’s what they told us.
The name of my mother’s brother was Lupu Leizer. He learned a tinker’s trade – as they call it.
Romania
I heard talk of them leaving to Israel eventually, I reckon they did that after World War II. But who knows anymore? Many left for Israel, they placed an ad in the newspaper if they wanted to see some relatives, some in-laws, a cousin one more time, and they kept asking around and looking for one another until they managed to get in touch. Do we still have news of our cousins? We have no news of them anymore. They have no news of us, we have no news of them. That’s all I know, that they left to Israel.
,
After WW2
See text in interview
Throughout her life, our aunt was always sickly, ailing, and she died young.
They lived in Botosani – I believe –, and her husband was a cabman on a hackney carriage – as there were in those days.
Romania
A funeral took place here, in Dorohoi, in 1940. A Jewish soldier who was killed during World War II was brought from Herta [today Gertsa, the region of Chernivtsi] to Dorohoi to be buried in the Jewish cemetery. Herta is now located in Ukraine, in the territories occupied by the Russians, by the Ukrainians, but it wasn’t occupied at that time, it belonged to Romania. And among those who attended the funeral were both old and young, there were people of various ages, and a company of soldiers came to salute the Jewish soldier. And what do you think happened? The army was retreating from the war in those days [from the front], they passed through Dorohoi, and I don’t know how it happened, they started shooting, and they shot all those who were attending the funeral. The uncle I was telling you about was shot there as well, for he had attended the funeral himself. [Ed. note: At the end of June 1940, the Herta country from the county of Dorohoi was occupied by the Soviet Union, the city and the rest of the the county of Dorohoi becoming a corridor for the retreat of Romanian troops, on which occasion some Romanian military units carried out murders and robbery against the Jewish population. For instance, the anti-Jewish pogrom of July 1, 1940 in the city of Dorohoi.
He worked as long as he was able to, but he had diabetes during the latter part of his life, and they amputated his legs because of the diabetes, he lost both legs by the time he died.
My grandfather manufactured sheepskin coats, hats, singlets – as people wore in those days. And their name was supposed to be different, in fact. For my mother always told me: “This isn’t the real name, the actual name. Our name was Segal.” Which is to say my father’s name was supposed to be Segal. Cojocariu is a nickname as my grandfather was a furrier. They gave him this name, this nickname of “Cojocariu” [Romanian for furrier] after the job he had, and the name stuck, he was recorded in official documents with this name.