Purim is a holiday related to the salvation of the Jews. On Purim we made very nice masquerades with masks. People also made ring-shaped buns decorated with red paint and various figures with flowers. There were some sweets typical for Purim, which were called 'roskas de alhashuv' in Ladino. 'Alhashuv' in Ladino means a mixture of sugar and walnuts. These were tasty ring-shaped buns, sprinkled with sesame and filled inside with this mixture of sugar and walnuts. Among all the thanksgiving prayers said in the synagogue there was one during which one knocks with a hand on something, symbolizing the killing of Haman, who had prepared the conspiracy against the Persian king according to the story about Purim. Masks are put on at home in the evenings. I had a very beautiful mask, which one of my brothers had made for me. It was a smiling black girl. I would put on a pleated dress without sleeves and I loved dancing. On Purim the town musicians came to the Jewish school and people had a great time there. Even Bulgarians celebrated with us. Our relations with the Bulgarians were very warm and I remember that they congratulated us when we had holidays. Various neighbors, friends of my mother and clients of my father came to greet us.
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Bina Dekalo
On Sukkot, the holiday marking the gathering of the harvest, we made tents in the synagogue. We sang very beautiful songs then. We blessed fertility and everything, which grows and feeds us. There is a very poetic psalm of David for this holiday. It is a thanksgiving prayer in ancient Hebrew, which is said in the synagogue.
On Yom Kippur when we fasted the whole day, we all went to the synagogue in the evening. The children who had reached ten years of age also fasted. We were allowed to eat by seven o'clock the previous day and nothing was eaten on Yom Kippur. There was a small fountain in the yard of the synagogue in Yambol, in which the shochet slaughtered a hen for us, when we brought him one.
We used special dishes for Pesach. We had a nice big wicker basket, nice cooking pots, special plates, glasses and everything necessary. On Pesach the house was cleaned thoroughly and in the evening before the holiday my grandfather would go around the house with a candle to check if no breadcrumb, 'chametz', had been left out. It was forbidden to bring bread into the house on Pesach. We took out the new dishes and arranged them on a long table. My father's two brothers with their families always came for the holidays. The wife of one of my father's brothers was a very good cook and prepared some chickens in the cooker.
On Pesach we prepared special loaves of bread without salt and soda resembling matzah. They are called 'boyos'. These loaves were very hard and we had to dip them in water to be able to eat them. We arranged the table for the holiday very carefully. The 'boyos' loaves were put in water in the evening and the next day we would drain the water and prepare a mixture with eggs, which we fried in the form of small balls. We also sprinkled them with sugar or sugar syrup. We do this today too. On Pesach we ate the best dishes - roasted hens, leeks balls, potato balls, lots of nice paste products such as cheese crackers, spinach pastry, meat pastry and sweet things such as quince jam or cherry and morello jam.
On Pesach, my grandfather or my father read the Haggadah in Hebrew. In Bulgarian the prayer was told in the following way: 'What happened this night, as different from all the other nights, is that every other night we are different, but on this night we are all gathered together at one table'. Then God is praised: 'You are the king, you are the master, you are everything.' After the praise for heaven, the story of Moses is told.
On Pesach we prepared special loaves of bread without salt and soda resembling matzah. They are called 'boyos'. These loaves were very hard and we had to dip them in water to be able to eat them. We arranged the table for the holiday very carefully. The 'boyos' loaves were put in water in the evening and the next day we would drain the water and prepare a mixture with eggs, which we fried in the form of small balls. We also sprinkled them with sugar or sugar syrup. We do this today too. On Pesach we ate the best dishes - roasted hens, leeks balls, potato balls, lots of nice paste products such as cheese crackers, spinach pastry, meat pastry and sweet things such as quince jam or cherry and morello jam.
On Pesach, my grandfather or my father read the Haggadah in Hebrew. In Bulgarian the prayer was told in the following way: 'What happened this night, as different from all the other nights, is that every other night we are different, but on this night we are all gathered together at one table'. Then God is praised: 'You are the king, you are the master, you are everything.' After the praise for heaven, the story of Moses is told.
We strictly observed the Jewish rituals and traditions in my father's house. My mother Victoria was very religious. When my grandmother Sunhula and she cooked, my mother said that the meat should be salted an hour before it was cooked, because that was what the Jewish laws said. She also said other things, which unfortunately I don't remember. On Sabbath she followed the tradition: not to work, not to light a fire, to go to the synagogue, to prepare in advance special dishes for this day. These dishes were put in the big cooker, where they remained warm without a fire being lit up. On Sabbath my father closed the shop, put on his new clothes and went to the synagogue with a prayer book in hand. He knew all prayers by heart. My grandfather Avram had taught him the prayers when he was a child and in the Jewish school it was obligatory to repeat the prayers many times, not only on 'Erev Sabbath', but also on the other high holidays. When my father returned from the synagogue on Saturday, the big table in the hall would already be laid on for breakfast. It would be full of cheese pastries, cheese crackers, boiled eggs, cooled brandy and fruit. All children would stand up until the prayer was said, after that we would all say 'Amen' and sit down to eat.
Our relations with the Bulgarians and the Armenians were very warm. And since my mother was born in Turkey and knew Turkish, our family was friends with some Turks, too.
My father, Yosif Aroyo, with the help of my grandfather and the dowry he received from his first wife's brother managed to build our big house in Yambol. The house was always full of people, even my father's younger brother had settled to live with us together with his wife from Pazardjik. My father's house was built near the main village square, the 'megdan' as the large empty area in the center of Yambol was called. The meetings and festivals in the town were organized there. The Friday market was also there. The General Zionists held meetings on Yom Ashekel and on other occasions.
Our house had two floors and a yard, where when we were children we played with the others, some of who were Bulgarians and others weren't. There were eight rooms on the first floor, a long hall and a big kitchen with a balcony. In the summers we went out to eat on that balcony. Gas lamps, very modern for the times, hung from both sides of the walls in the hall, which we called the salon. Banquets of the leaderships of the Zionist organizations took place there. Speeches were held, awards were given to people who had excelled in the social work, the hymn of the Jews and many other songs in Ladino and Hebrew were sung. Alongside the hall we placed a long table covered with white blankets, which encompassed the whole room. We put on it beautiful silver spoons and forks. We, the children, weren't allowed to stay at the banquets and peeped through a half-open door during the ceremonies. Our whole family loved the big house and was very proud of it. The rooms were well furnished with different furniture for the children of my father's two marriages - eight sons and two daughters.
I will always remember that house. When my family moved to Rousse we always regretted selling the house, leaving the town and the good life we had in Yambol. I cannot forget the big kitchen we had in that house. It was as big as the other rooms and had a large window looking at a yard with a covered well. People told various incredible stories about the well to frighten the children. There was an extraordinary cooker in the kitchen made of fireproof bricks and taking up almost the whole wall. My mother used it in the mornings and in the afternoons. The cooker wasn't lit on Saturdays only. My grandfather Avram forbid us to light a fire then, and my mother was 'chasida', that is, pious. Bags with vermicelli and couscous made by my grandmother Sunhula for the winter hung from the white walls of the kitchen. In the fall we made bottled bruit, liutenitsa and jams. It was typical for that time to hang turkey rounds from the ceiling to dry up.
One of the remarkable things I will never forget is the big 'mangal' [a kind of coal-burning stove] with tall cast-iron legs. Every Friday gypsies came to sell us charcoal. My grandmother kindled the fire with the charcoal and put the stove on the balcony and a horseshoe among the charcoal to protect us from the carbon dioxide and when everything turned to embers, she brought it into the large hall. We warmed all the rooms in this way during the winter. In Yambol the winter wasn't as cold as in other towns of Eastern and Northern Bulgaria. The stoves were enough to warm the rooms. The 'mangal' had another function too - when the fire subsided, my grandmother put crushed onion with cheese in the embers and this was a wonderful breakfast.
Our house had two floors and a yard, where when we were children we played with the others, some of who were Bulgarians and others weren't. There were eight rooms on the first floor, a long hall and a big kitchen with a balcony. In the summers we went out to eat on that balcony. Gas lamps, very modern for the times, hung from both sides of the walls in the hall, which we called the salon. Banquets of the leaderships of the Zionist organizations took place there. Speeches were held, awards were given to people who had excelled in the social work, the hymn of the Jews and many other songs in Ladino and Hebrew were sung. Alongside the hall we placed a long table covered with white blankets, which encompassed the whole room. We put on it beautiful silver spoons and forks. We, the children, weren't allowed to stay at the banquets and peeped through a half-open door during the ceremonies. Our whole family loved the big house and was very proud of it. The rooms were well furnished with different furniture for the children of my father's two marriages - eight sons and two daughters.
I will always remember that house. When my family moved to Rousse we always regretted selling the house, leaving the town and the good life we had in Yambol. I cannot forget the big kitchen we had in that house. It was as big as the other rooms and had a large window looking at a yard with a covered well. People told various incredible stories about the well to frighten the children. There was an extraordinary cooker in the kitchen made of fireproof bricks and taking up almost the whole wall. My mother used it in the mornings and in the afternoons. The cooker wasn't lit on Saturdays only. My grandfather Avram forbid us to light a fire then, and my mother was 'chasida', that is, pious. Bags with vermicelli and couscous made by my grandmother Sunhula for the winter hung from the white walls of the kitchen. In the fall we made bottled bruit, liutenitsa and jams. It was typical for that time to hang turkey rounds from the ceiling to dry up.
One of the remarkable things I will never forget is the big 'mangal' [a kind of coal-burning stove] with tall cast-iron legs. Every Friday gypsies came to sell us charcoal. My grandmother kindled the fire with the charcoal and put the stove on the balcony and a horseshoe among the charcoal to protect us from the carbon dioxide and when everything turned to embers, she brought it into the large hall. We warmed all the rooms in this way during the winter. In Yambol the winter wasn't as cold as in other towns of Eastern and Northern Bulgaria. The stoves were enough to warm the rooms. The 'mangal' had another function too - when the fire subsided, my grandmother put crushed onion with cheese in the embers and this was a wonderful breakfast.
Jews owned the whole trade street in Yambol. It started from our house, which was in the center, then followed the house of Mois Kohen, the brother of my father's first wife, who had a big textile store. There were a lot of shops after his house - all Jewish ones. There were goldsmiths, grocer's stores, selling lettuces, potatoes, onion, garlic, fruit and vegetables, and a shop from which we always bought on Rosh Hashanah, because they sold oranges. There were also some shops on this street, which sold kosher food.
Yambol was a town celebrating freely and united the Jewish holidays. All Jewish families dressed in their most official clothes and went to the synagogue. The synagogue was always crowded and many times people were left outside. The women always had to wear kerchiefs and there was a separate space for them - on the balcony. I remember that once I went to the synagogue without a kerchief and they didn't let me in. When I was very little, they didn't bring me to the synagogue. After some time I had to wear a kerchief in order to enter the synagogue. Once the balconies where the women prayed were being repaired. We had a rabbi then, who didn't allow the men and women to mix, and so that the women wouldn't be left outside, the ordered that a cloth be put as a screen between the men and the women. Everyone was much surprised what that cotton print was doing in the synagogue.
Many Jewish families lived in Yambol. They were mainly merchants and craftsmen. All spoke to each other in Ladino; they were very united and were free to celebrate all Jewish religious holidays. The people united around Zionist organizations such as the General Zionists [4], Poalei Zion [5], Maccabi [6] and others in the town. Both young and old were members of Maccabi. On Yom Ashekel [7] the Maccabi members made a manifestation wearing sports clothes, passing along the main street of the town and all people would go out to watch them. The whole town danced with them. During that time all Jews were very inspired by the ideas of Theodor Herzl [8] for the foundation of the Jewish state and Yom Ashekel was a day when they raised money to buy lands in Palestine.
Yambol was a small, but lively trade town. The Tundzha River passes through it and its waters were used to irrigate the gardens growing mainly vegetables. The horse tram transporting the people to the railway station was remarkable. The station itself was outside the town. My brothers and I used to go to watch the two pairs of horses, which pulled two carriages each, always full of people on their way to the station.
Another remarkable thing about my hometown were the 'market-gardens' near the Tundzha River. In the evenings many families went near the gardens to buy special lettuces, which they called 'fat hens', from the gardeners. This is a special kind of enormous and very juicy lettuces, which were grown only near Yambol. The villagers were friends with the Jews and every evening waited for them to come again. One of my brothers, Mois, who married in Rousse, always said that such lettuces grew nowhere else in the world and he missed the Yambol ones very much.
I remember the Turkish bath as a low building made of solid stones. In the middle of the bath there was a large area of stone plates, which had been heated and on which people sat in order to sweat. After that people rubbed themselves with special kinds of bags and washed at the f?ucets. I remember that there were no showers. The bath had separate rooms and entrances for men and women. Usually we went to the bath on Thursday or Friday. There was an entrance hall where we ate. My mother used to prepare a bag with cheese, bread, eggs and butter; we sat on some chairs and ate. It took quite some time until we entered the bathing rooms, because of our breakfast. After a while we went to the entrance hall to eat again. The children had great fun playing at the bath. All evening we would tell each other stories about what we did there. My grandfather Avram Aroyo said in Ladino 'Se fue Djoha al banio tuvo ke kontar mil i un anyo', that is, 'Went Djoha to the bath and had stories to tell for one thousand and one years.
Another remarkable thing about my hometown were the 'market-gardens' near the Tundzha River. In the evenings many families went near the gardens to buy special lettuces, which they called 'fat hens', from the gardeners. This is a special kind of enormous and very juicy lettuces, which were grown only near Yambol. The villagers were friends with the Jews and every evening waited for them to come again. One of my brothers, Mois, who married in Rousse, always said that such lettuces grew nowhere else in the world and he missed the Yambol ones very much.
I remember the Turkish bath as a low building made of solid stones. In the middle of the bath there was a large area of stone plates, which had been heated and on which people sat in order to sweat. After that people rubbed themselves with special kinds of bags and washed at the f?ucets. I remember that there were no showers. The bath had separate rooms and entrances for men and women. Usually we went to the bath on Thursday or Friday. There was an entrance hall where we ate. My mother used to prepare a bag with cheese, bread, eggs and butter; we sat on some chairs and ate. It took quite some time until we entered the bathing rooms, because of our breakfast. After a while we went to the entrance hall to eat again. The children had great fun playing at the bath. All evening we would tell each other stories about what we did there. My grandfather Avram Aroyo said in Ladino 'Se fue Djoha al banio tuvo ke kontar mil i un anyo', that is, 'Went Djoha to the bath and had stories to tell for one thousand and one years.
When my other brother, Lazar Aroyo, reached the age of 13 and seeing that my father couldn't support the family and send him to study, he decided to go to Pazardjik, where there was a school funded by the Zionist organization teaching agriculture and various crafts. After he studied two years in that school, around 1927, he left for Israel. He traveled two months until he reached the country. Together with other youths from Bulgaria, Poland and Russia they founded the Ma'abarot kibbutz struggling with the Arabs, the marshes and poverty. Today the Ma'abarot kibbutz is quite advanced in all respects. My brother was in charge of repairs and maintenance of the cars and farming machines. He had learned that craft in Bulgaria in the school in Pazardjik, which was called 'haTikva' [Hope]. Lazar married a Bulgarian Jew in the kibbutz. Her name was Rosa and she was a teacher in Ivrit in Yambol. They had two children, Gidon and Oro. They live in the kibbutz.
Every year my brother Marco went on an excursion to a European country. One year he visited Palestine. Then he decided that he should move to live there to help in the establishment of agricultural farms in the country, where the people struggled with the marshes and the desert storms. In May 1936 he left us a big sum in the bank and left for Palestine joining a group of Jews from Bulgaria, who were sent to the northern part of the country - Tiberias. There they founded that agricultural village Kfar Hitim with much hard work and deprivation. Before that German and Turkish Jews had tried to cultivate the land there. But they couldn't cope with the harsh climate. The Bulgarian Jews worked very hard to solve the problems and brought water from Lake Kineret following the project of my brother Marco. Together with the other settlers from Bulgaria they planted green belts against the warm winds, which destroyed the harvest. Today Kfar Hitim is a picturesque village at a high peak and there are many trees and flowers. My brother still lives in the village. Although he is quite old, he does some office work part-time for the village and welcomes guests and tourists from around the world. He is one of the most respected people in the whole region.
My brother Marco graduated from the French College in Rousse. From an early age he started supporting my parents and me. After my father went bankrupt in Rousse, we were left with no money and we went to our brother in Lom, where he worked as a correspondent in French in the newly opened branch of the General Bank. Without his help, I wouldn't have been able to finish my high-school education. He insisted that I should study, while I wanted to work and help my parents.
My grandfather Avram said about my brother Herzl that he was the amulet of the family. When he was very young, he went down with meningitis and that affected his mental development. On holidays my grandfather would always give him the best present and always told us to look after him, because he wouldn't live forever. Herzl went to live with our brothers Albert and Jacques in Sofia and found work there as a salesman at a stall. They found him a wife named Ernesta. In 1948 he moved with his wife to Israel and found himself some small job in the trade business in Tel Aviv.
My sister Carolina had an unfortunate fate. She married a Turkish Jew in Sofia named Buko Agranati and lived with him. I remember that she went to live in Sofia at the place of our brothers Albert and Jacques, who found her that man. But my parents didn't like him much. He worked as a shop assistant. They had three girls. Buko Agranati had no Bulgarian documents and when the Law for the Protection of the Nation [3] was passed, he had to leave Bulgaria. So, he decided to join the group of refugees intending to go to Palestine on a sailing boat through the Black Sea and Turkey. My brothers advised Carolina to stay and promised her they would support her. But she decided to leave with her husband and somewhere around the first kilometer from the shore the boat named Salvador crashed and my sister and her three children drowned. Her husband was among the few people who survived. He got married once again in Israel and had three children. The trip with the boat was organized by a Zionist, named Komforti who had taken much money for it.
My next brother is Jacques. He came with us to Rousse and even worked for a short while there as a director of the factory producing springs, which my father built. Both Jacques and my father didn't understand much of this business and they went bankrupt. When we left Rousse, Jacques went to live in Sofia where he had a shoe shop and got married. His wife is a Jew born in Sofia, called Jula. In 1948 they all left for Israel and settled in Tel Aviv.
My brother Sami was the only one in the family who remained living in Yambol. He was a retailer. He has two children, with whom he left for Israel in 1948: Pepo or Yosif, who was a clerk in Tel Aviv and Mois, who worked as a shop assistant in Tel Aviv.
My next brother, Sami, married while we lived in Yambol. He married a Jew from Drama, Greece, named Sophie. During the wedding the bride was dressed in white and had a hat and a veil on her head. The veil was embroidered in such a way as if it was sprinkled with gold. The hat of the bride was decorated with artificial flowers. My brother Sami was dressed in a tailcoat, white shirt and black tie. There was an orchestra playing music. Special songs in Ladino were also sung during the wedding, mostly by my mother. One of them said: 'Bless them and let them live in peace and love'. There was also a song about the evil mother-in-law and the great love between the bride and the groom. Then followed blessings: 'May God give them health', 'May God give them wisdom', 'May God give them material prosperity'.
The ritual for the wedding started in the morning. At that time three or four young girls came, who helped the bride put on the wedding clothes. In accordance with the Jewish rituals the bride had to dress away from other people's sight. The music started playing early in the morning and it was very merry. The whole neighborhood gathered to watch, to listen and see the bride. It is typical for our Sephardic wedding rituals that an engagement should be made before the wedding, at which 'ashogar' [dowry] was made - the bride shows what she will bring into her new home - clothes, blankets, covers. They had to be luxurious and if possible with embroidery.
After the bride is ready, the groom comes to take her with a carriage. Then they go to the synagogue. The best man and maid of honor take the newly- weds by the hand and go to the pulpit where the rabbi is. Before the people enter the synagogue, they stay besides the entrance and the bride and the groom walk in first. The rabbi starts reading prayers for the wedding, which have very beautiful ancient Jewish melodies. Then they take a sip of wine and the groom breaks the glass. Then the rabbi declares them husband and wife and blesses them. After that the guests approach them and congratulate them.
The ritual for the wedding started in the morning. At that time three or four young girls came, who helped the bride put on the wedding clothes. In accordance with the Jewish rituals the bride had to dress away from other people's sight. The music started playing early in the morning and it was very merry. The whole neighborhood gathered to watch, to listen and see the bride. It is typical for our Sephardic wedding rituals that an engagement should be made before the wedding, at which 'ashogar' [dowry] was made - the bride shows what she will bring into her new home - clothes, blankets, covers. They had to be luxurious and if possible with embroidery.
After the bride is ready, the groom comes to take her with a carriage. Then they go to the synagogue. The best man and maid of honor take the newly- weds by the hand and go to the pulpit where the rabbi is. Before the people enter the synagogue, they stay besides the entrance and the bride and the groom walk in first. The rabbi starts reading prayers for the wedding, which have very beautiful ancient Jewish melodies. Then they take a sip of wine and the groom breaks the glass. Then the rabbi declares them husband and wife and blesses them. After that the guests approach them and congratulate them.
My brother Aron was very adventurous. Even when we lived in Yambol, he had such inclinations. He loved trading with gold and valuable items and even when he was young he started secretly from my father with money from the turnover of the shop to buy gold and valuables from the villagers living near Yambol. Meanwhile my father couldn't sleep during the night worrying why the business wasn't going well. One night my brother Aron decided to gather the whole family and told us that he had prepared a surprise. He made us enter the hall where the lights were out. After we all gathered, he lit the lamps and drew the cover from a heap on the table. It was all gold and valuables. My father gasped, my mother scolded him very seriously for what he had done. My brother lived in Paris for twelve years before World War II. I guess he earned his living by selling that gold. He married in Pleven Mazal Behar, who was born there and they lived in Pleven all their life.
My next brother, Mois Aroyo, married a Jew from a very rich family in Rousse. They had a factory producing gunpowder called 'Buko Eshkenazi and Co'. They produced gunpowder and weapons. My brother was the director of that factory and was well off. His wife was Matilda. They had a daughter, Jana, who graduated from the French College in Rousse. During World War II they weren't deported, because they paid much money. In 1948 they moved to Israel, in Haifa.
After the end of the war Rashel, the wife of my brother, was still in the hiding place and knew nothing about the fate of her husband and daughter. Jana was released from the camp and went to see her mother in Paris. Jana was unrecognizable and Rashel went into a shock at the sight of her daughter. Jana was also not well mentally, so they both spent some months in a hospital to get over the shock. After that, they received a rented apartment and some money to live on. I learned all that from Jana's letters, which she sent me throughout the years.
My oldest brother, Albert Aroyo, was a representative of a French perfume company. They liked him and invited him to work in Paris. I remember that before he left, he lived in Sofia. He married a Jew born in Rousse and called Rashel. So, he left for France with his family in 1936. His two daughters were ballet dancers and were immediately accepted in the general ballet group of the opera. When the Germans invaded France, they were interned to Lyon.
All Jews there received an order for deportation. My father's friends from the company, however, didn't let him go and hid him, his wife Rashel and his two daughters in a basement in an inner yard. They didn't go outside for six months. But the elder daughter of Albert, Jana, couldn't stand it any longer and said that she would go to the ballet again. So, together with some children, friends of my brother, Jana went to the ballet. Every night her worried family waited eagerly for her. One night Jana was late more than usual and my brother Albert went out to look for her. But he had hardly crossed the first street when a German patrol stopped him. They saw that he was a Jew and surrounded him. At the same time Jana also appeared and when she saw what was happening, she ran to her father. So, they were both detained and deported together with the other Jews to the Auschwitz concentration camp. My brother was killed there. Jana survived by a miracle, but at a very high price. She was a very attractive girl with a slender figure. They violated her sexually and made her clean the toilets. All that, however, left its mark on her psyche.
All Jews there received an order for deportation. My father's friends from the company, however, didn't let him go and hid him, his wife Rashel and his two daughters in a basement in an inner yard. They didn't go outside for six months. But the elder daughter of Albert, Jana, couldn't stand it any longer and said that she would go to the ballet again. So, together with some children, friends of my brother, Jana went to the ballet. Every night her worried family waited eagerly for her. One night Jana was late more than usual and my brother Albert went out to look for her. But he had hardly crossed the first street when a German patrol stopped him. They saw that he was a Jew and surrounded him. At the same time Jana also appeared and when she saw what was happening, she ran to her father. So, they were both detained and deported together with the other Jews to the Auschwitz concentration camp. My brother was killed there. Jana survived by a miracle, but at a very high price. She was a very attractive girl with a slender figure. They violated her sexually and made her clean the toilets. All that, however, left its mark on her psyche.
Off all my brothers only Marco followed my father's will and graduated from college. All the others had elementary education in the Jewish school in Yambol. We had special teachers in Ivrit from Poland in our school. For the holidays each class had to prepare a program. I remember that I had to talk about Pesach in Ivrit. We had to speak in Ivrit about all the holidays and explain what we were celebrating. Our holidays are related to the history of the Jews and that's how we learned our history.
My father often traveled to Odrin and Tsarigrad [Istanbul] on business trips. Once when he was in Odrin he saw a tall, beautiful and elegantly dressed woman crossing the street. That was my mother. He immediately asked around about her and found out that she was from a highly religious Jewish family.
Growing up
My father proposed to her and she agreed. They married in Odrin around 1906- 1907. My father, however, didn't tell her that he had seven children from his first wife in Odrin. They left for Yambol and all my father's children lined up and kissed her hand. After the seventh child my mother couldn't take it any longer and fainted. After she regained consciousness she cried bitterly. All my father's relatives started to console her; his former wife's relatives also came and promised her that she wouldn't have to look after all the children on her own. My parents loved each other and my mother decided to stay and accepted the seven children. Everybody in Yambol talked about my mother's sacrifice. After she married in Bulgaria my mother received the name Victoria. Three children were born out of the big love between my parents: Marco, Lazar and I. My name was written as Bienvenida Aroyo in my birth certificate. My father, however, thought that the name sounded very strange for the Bulgarians and shortened my name to Bina. That's how my name was written in my first documents.
Growing up
My father proposed to her and she agreed. They married in Odrin around 1906- 1907. My father, however, didn't tell her that he had seven children from his first wife in Odrin. They left for Yambol and all my father's children lined up and kissed her hand. After the seventh child my mother couldn't take it any longer and fainted. After she regained consciousness she cried bitterly. All my father's relatives started to console her; his former wife's relatives also came and promised her that she wouldn't have to look after all the children on her own. My parents loved each other and my mother decided to stay and accepted the seven children. Everybody in Yambol talked about my mother's sacrifice. After she married in Bulgaria my mother received the name Victoria. Three children were born out of the big love between my parents: Marco, Lazar and I. My name was written as Bienvenida Aroyo in my birth certificate. My father, however, thought that the name sounded very strange for the Bulgarians and shortened my name to Bina. That's how my name was written in my first documents.
When she was 19 years old, my mother was married to a banker in Odrin, who was thirty years older than her. In the first year of their marriage she gave birth to a girl, Bella. After the birth she came down with a mysterious illness, similar to sleeping sickness, and her husband returned her to grandfather Mordohay. He decided to take her to Jerusalem, to the places sacred for the Jews in order to heal her. In Istanbul, where they were about to board a ship, they met a physician from Vienna, who asked my grandfather some questions and advised him to cancel his journey and visit his hospital in Istanbul. He started treating my mother by drawing blood from her arm and she started to recover very quickly. After a month she was completely well. My grandfather paid the physician generously. They were very happy and went on a holiday in some resorts in Turkey. After they returned to Odrin, the first thing my mother did was to go and see her husband and daughter, whom she hadn't seen since the delivery. It turned out that the banker had found another woman and had even bribed the authorities to marry them legally. Yet, my mother sued him for divorce. The banker paid a big compensation and so, at 21, my mother got divorced, without any rights over her daughter, but with a big sum in the bank. After my mother divorced, she returned to live with her father.
My mother Victoria was named Viducha in Odrin. When she was young, she didn't want to go to school. Her father sent her to a religious school, where they studied Tannakh in Ivrit. She had a great memory and memorized a passage by heart as early as the first lesson. When she went home, she recited it to her father. But instead of being happy with his daughter's abilities, he got angry, because he thought that a woman shouldn't study much, but should look after her children and her husband instead. That's why he forbade her to go to school. So, my mother didn't go to school and remained illiterate. When she issued her documents in Bulgaria, they wrote her name down as Victoria.
My maternal grandfather, Mordohay Behmoaras, was very conservative. He forbade his daughters to walk freely beside a man and married them to the men who chose them. I saw my maternal grandparents a number of times. They lived in Odrin, which is in Turkey. Grandfather Mordohay was a chazzan in Odrin. He had a beard and wore a special hat, which was part of his special costume as a chazzan in the synagogue and a black cloak with stripes. His hat was small and round, black in color with seams in the middle, which were sewn with golden thread. This was his uniform, which he always wore. I went to visit my grandfather in Odrin and I have seen the synagogue there. My first impression from that synagogue was that it was richer than the one in Yambol and there were a lot of candlesticks with gas lamps in them. The Odrin synagogue had marble walls, which I found very beautiful. The synagogue in Yambol was made of bricks, which were whitewashed and painted. I remember that the Jews in Odrin were different from the other people. All men had a small well-formed beard and behaved differently. They were reserved and polite and always greeted each other in Ivrit.
My father was a prosperous merchant and he could afford to support our big family. After he built the big house, he settled in it while it was still damp and that was the reason for the illness of his first wife Bina, who died very young. My grandmother Sunhula took up looking after the children: Albert, Mois, Aron, Sami, Jacques, Carolina and Herzl. They also hired a woman who helped them.
My father had a very big shop for textile at the square in Yambol. His shop was always full of quality textile and that's why it had many clients. Besides, my father was a much respected and liked man, and many people entered the shop just to meet him.
My father had a very big shop for textile at the square in Yambol. His shop was always full of quality textile and that's why it had many clients. Besides, my father was a much respected and liked man, and many people entered the shop just to meet him.
ruth laane
My grandfather and grandmother Mendelev stayed in Tartu. I heard many versions of the reason for their stay, but there was one common thing about them. Everybody said my grandfather was eager to leave, but not my grandmother. My grandmother did not know Russian; she had been raised on German and French novels and spoke fluent German and French. It probably never occurred to her that the Germans might be worse than the Bolsheviks. The majority believed so, and the deportation in Estonia strengthened their position.
Our family had a note from my grandfather Samuil where he still mentioned that there was a possibility that they might evacuate. My grandfather knew we were up to evacuation and was asking us to find them. Something that convinced them they should stay must have happened at the last moment. They said that his teacher and peer Pusepp promised Doctor Zlaf, Aunt Ella's husband, that he would manage to protect Zlaf and his family, and they stayed. There was Zlaf, his wife Ella and two children, daughter Juudit, born in 1937, and son Gille, born in 1939, my grandfather and grandmother, their son Roman, their younger daughter Pesse, who was 19 then.
Later we were told that Roman was trying to escape and was seen in the south of Estonia, where the track of him was lost. Roman perished somewhere in the south of Estonia. The rest of the family perished in Tartu. I have no memoriam left of them, not a single photograph. There are a few of Grandmother's letters, and a picture of my father's sister Pesse, just a picture of her. It was the only thing I managed to find. I started looking into the history too late, and I know so very little of them. I don't even know how they looked.
Our family had a note from my grandfather Samuil where he still mentioned that there was a possibility that they might evacuate. My grandfather knew we were up to evacuation and was asking us to find them. Something that convinced them they should stay must have happened at the last moment. They said that his teacher and peer Pusepp promised Doctor Zlaf, Aunt Ella's husband, that he would manage to protect Zlaf and his family, and they stayed. There was Zlaf, his wife Ella and two children, daughter Juudit, born in 1937, and son Gille, born in 1939, my grandfather and grandmother, their son Roman, their younger daughter Pesse, who was 19 then.
Later we were told that Roman was trying to escape and was seen in the south of Estonia, where the track of him was lost. Roman perished somewhere in the south of Estonia. The rest of the family perished in Tartu. I have no memoriam left of them, not a single photograph. There are a few of Grandmother's letters, and a picture of my father's sister Pesse, just a picture of her. It was the only thing I managed to find. I started looking into the history too late, and I know so very little of them. I don't even know how they looked.