I have to mention that unfortunately there were only two large social classes in Varad [among the Jews]: the rich ones and the poor ones. There was almost no middle class. There were very rich and very poor people. I know this because in the Jewish school the poor children were exempted from school fees, and the wealthy children paid the fees conditionally on how wealthy they were. And there were very wealthy children. I was the fifth or sixth downwards among the rich girls [on an imaginary scale].
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Displaying 45721 - 45750 of 50826 results
Anna Eva Gaspar
The Jewish high school for boys was in the yard of the temple. Our school was after the corner, so near-by the Orthodox temple. But I never got inside the temple. I liked very much weddings. When we came out from school, we used to run and watch the ceremony under the chuppah. I wasn’t a temple-goer. The boys had a 12 grades high school [the Jewish high school]. I found recently my husband’s graduation group photograph [he graduated there]. My brother finished a few grades there also. But there were 12 grades only for the boys, the girls had only middle school, but we went to the public high school until 1940. The public high school wasn’t coeducational, the boys went there in the morning and we, the girls, in the afternoon. The other schools weren’t coeducational also In my time there was a separate high school for girls and for boys.
The boys had a separate school, the cheder, where they learnt the Talmud.
Romania
My mother insisted that if I had to choose anyway, and there was no Jewish high school for girls, I should go to the Ursuline school, because she also studied in a convent. It was a very clean, tidy place. The entrance exams were only in Romanian, we weren’t allowed to speak Hungarian!
I attended the Jewish school, my grandfather demanded this. He took me first to the school. He came to Varad and took me to school. I finished there the four grades of the elementary and middle school, there wasn’t Jewish high school for girls. I finished the Jewish middle school and I had to sit the entrance examination in the public high school. The entrance examination took place in a public high school called Oltea Doamna, and if you passed it, you could go wherever you liked. The successful entrance examination authorized you to choose the high school which you wanted. There was the Ursuline school, which was a Catholic school, Catholic nuns led it. The most distinguished and expensive school was the Notre Dame de Sion, a French school. Both schools admitted those girls who passed the entrance examination in the Oltea Doamna public high school. So this was a law.
Near the school were a huge Orthodox temple and an huge Neolog one. Once, I don’t remember on which holiday, may be at Purim, because the Purim is the only Jewish festival, the girls from my class invited me to the Neolog temple. I went with them, I didn’t know that it would be a problem. There was always a big conflict between the Orthodox and Neolog Jews. The Neolog temple had choir and organ. Those were forbidden in the Orthodox temple. The service was really nice. I went to the temple to hear organ music only once. Then I went home and I told that to my grandfather. I thought that he would beat me, although he didn’t even raise his hand… My grandfather explained me, that if I went to the Neolog temple, it would make him feel bad. He told that the Neologs are blasphemers: ‘Don’t you ever set a foot there!’ The Neologs were his enemies, rather than the Christians. I never asked him why. I didn’t want to make him feel bad, because I really loved my grandfather. After he asked me, I never went to the Neolog temple. In Varad we had these two temples and many prayer houses. I don’t know how many, and to be honest it didn’t care for it. For example we lived far from the Orthodox temple, but it was a prayer house near-by, and we used to go there. My grandfather used to go to the same prayer house, at least when he did. But he didn’t go every Saturday, only on high holidays. At New Year’s Day and Yom Kippur he spent the day in the prayer house. On Yom Kippur all the family fasted. I don’t want to lie – I didn’t keep fast. All the friends came to our place and we pinched the cookies what we found in the pantry. I don't know why I did this, may be I was similar to my father? I can say that I was religious, but I wasn’t. What am I to do? And after the deportation I became even less religious than I was before.
There were many Jewish people in Varad at that time. There was Orthodox and Neolog community also. There was an Orthodox and a Neolog elementary school too. The Neolog one was closer to our place, but it was forbidden to go there. They sent me to the Orthodox school, because they said: ‘You are Orthodox’. When we moved in Varad, my parents bought a house at the edge of the town, so we lived very far from the Jewish district. But my grandfather expected my parents to enter me in the Orthodox school, moreover he came and entered me. If I stepped out, I needed half an hour to reach the school. And this was a long time in a town like Varad. They entered my brother to the Orthodox boy’s school. I grumbled enough about this. Because in wintertime…there was streetcar only on the main street, so it was hard to come and go. Sometimes we had classes in the afternoon, and then we had to go one more time…But my grandfather demanded this, and we had to do it so. There was a kindergarten near us, but my mother didn’t let me to go there. Probably it was a poorly rated kindergarten. Oh, how many times I told that I liked to go?! But my mother didn’t let me. I had governess until age 7, until I went to school. The governess went away before I became a schoolgirl.
The Jews originally from Varad lived in a kind of ghetto. There was a huge temple, a Jewish hospital, so that area was entirely populated by Jewish people. We weren’t originally from Varad, because we moved there just in 1925-26. But the Jews originally from Varad lived around the temple and in the adjoining streets. There was the mikveh, the shochet, the chief sochet. Maybe there was assistant shochet also, but I don’t remember. Those [who lived in that area] didn’t use to visit us, because…I don’t know why. I think that I didn’t know even one rabbi in my life.
Romania
We had no Jewish neighbors in Varad, so we didn’t live in a Jewish district. My parents rather kept in touch with the relatives. My mother had one-two lady friends who used to visit her, but they rather kept in touch with the relatives. They were distant cousins, but they were on visiting terms with us. Otherwise my mother was an unobtrusive person, she lived for her family. Rarely, when we went to the theater, she used to come with us, but she wasn’t a carnal woman. We didn’t care if our friends were Jews or not. We were on good terms with every neighbor.
We were wealthy, rich people. We had paintings at home also. I grew up in that ambience, it wasn’t a big deal for me. Nobody was art collector in the family. My brother liked the art, but I didn’t really, although I had a few reproductions. I don’t know, it wasn’t a problem for us. The paintings were still-lives, I think my mother liked rather the still-lives. But none of them was painted by such famous painter like Rafaelo… They bought the paintings from Nagybanya. The people from Varad considered that the most beautiful paintings were painted in Nagybanya. But they don’t speak about them already.
The books and the encyclopedias belonged to my mother. She didn’t go to the public library, she bought the books what she liked. They were Hungarian books, because my mother didn't know Romanian at all. My grandparents knew less than she. They didn’t need it. My mother attended Hungarian school, where she could use the Romanian language? She liked the romantic novels, and she used to read out many times for me. When I was sick, she entertained me with read out, because she did it so well. She didn’t read out only, I could say that she acted the novels. She related that she acted many times in the convent also. We had Jokai, Mikszath and other Hungarian classics. She used to recite poetry very well also, but then I went to Romanian school from the first grade, and my mother couldn’t help me anymore. I had to read literature, what was obligatory in the school. My father liked to read also. Every evening, when he went to bed, he took the book and read. But if you ask me what, I can’t answer. We read systematically. Once happened [right after World War II] that we had to fill out a form about the things what we had in the house: what disappeared, what was taken away. Even my poor husband – he came to us many times, we were friends - knew better what we had, what books were in our library.
The books and the encyclopedias belonged to my mother. She didn’t go to the public library, she bought the books what she liked. They were Hungarian books, because my mother didn't know Romanian at all. My grandparents knew less than she. They didn’t need it. My mother attended Hungarian school, where she could use the Romanian language? She liked the romantic novels, and she used to read out many times for me. When I was sick, she entertained me with read out, because she did it so well. She didn’t read out only, I could say that she acted the novels. She related that she acted many times in the convent also. We had Jokai, Mikszath and other Hungarian classics. She used to recite poetry very well also, but then I went to Romanian school from the first grade, and my mother couldn’t help me anymore. I had to read literature, what was obligatory in the school. My father liked to read also. Every evening, when he went to bed, he took the book and read. But if you ask me what, I can’t answer. We read systematically. Once happened [right after World War II] that we had to fill out a form about the things what we had in the house: what disappeared, what was taken away. Even my poor husband – he came to us many times, we were friends - knew better what we had, what books were in our library.
In 1940 the Hungarians [2] introduced a law according to which the families who had a male member could only employ male servants, grooms. The maid servant and [later] the man servant had a separate room. The woman cook, Helenke, didn't live with us, she came only to cook. Initially we had house maid and woman cook, until the Hungarians introduced this law. Then we dismissed the house maid and we employed a boy to help out in the household. The servants and the groom were considered family members in our house.
We had only bathtub and boiler in the bathroom. There wasn't hot-cold running water. So if you liked to take a bath, you had to make a fire in the boiler. We heated with wood, the boiler warmed up the water, and if you put more wood on the fire, the boiler warmed the water constantly. My grandfather took bath once a week, on Friday. He took the bath before the Friday ceremony. We didn’t use to go to the mikveh. There was a mikveh in Varad, and I had a few religious girls in my class, who told that you had to go to the mikveh before your wedding. I don’t know if I should be able to go there. I detested even our bathtub, if it wasn’t scoured out how I liked…so I shouldn’t be able to go to the mikveh, even if they forced me. I took bath rather at home. So my grandfather wasn’t bigot.
We had a four room apartment, and a porch along. You went up the stairs, and there was a hallway at right hand side. How you entered the hallway, there were two doors. One led to the drawing room, the other one to the grandparents’ bedroom. Next to that was the children’s room and the dining room, so they were intercommunicating rooms. The dining room had two doors also, one of them led to the bathroom and the other one to a corridor. From the corridor you could reach the pantry, the kitchen, the loft and the servant’s hall. So it was a long flat. It was the same on the other side also. And if you went down a few steps, you could see that all the windows opened to the porch, only the foremost room’s and the hallway’s windows opened to the street. If you went down more steps, you reached the yard, the garden, the kitchen garden and the vineyard. The porch had pillars and roof, but had no walls. I remember that the porch, the window shades and the doors were green...My mother was about to repaint them white, but this never took place. We had parquet floor in the house.
We used to eat in the dining room, not in the kitchen. The servant girl brought in the meal, and then she cleared the table and brought the second dish. They brought the bread from the nearest bakery. I liked very much the fresh rye bread with butter. I never ate so good bread since then. The meat soup was my favorite meal. I didn’t really eat meat because I didn’t like it, I preferred rather the different pastas. My mother was all over me, she cooked always what I requested. My brother ate everything, but I was very picky. My mother gave the instructions to the woman cook what to prepare for us, we had no said in the matter. My mother asked us: ‘Tell me, what you want to eat?’ – and she requested the woman cook to prepare that. But we had nothing to do with the woman cook.
The next governess was an older woman. But she wasn’t much better. Elza? Auntie Matild? I don’t remember her name anymore. She wasn’t so severe like her predecessor. They raised us for seven years. When we went to school, we were happy because we got rid of them.
These governesses lived together with us, they were almost family members. But for example we didn’t eat together with our parents and grandparents. Not with my mother or with my grandparents. The children ate separately. At a separate table, in a separate time. We went together with the Fraulein everywhere. We were together all the time, all the day. I think the Fraulein introduced the separate eating. That is not a Jewish tradition. For example my mother ate together with her parents. After the Fraulein went away, we could eat together with the grandparents. And how happy we were!
These governesses lived together with us, they were almost family members. But for example we didn’t eat together with our parents and grandparents. Not with my mother or with my grandparents. The children ate separately. At a separate table, in a separate time. We went together with the Fraulein everywhere. We were together all the time, all the day. I think the Fraulein introduced the separate eating. That is not a Jewish tradition. For example my mother ate together with her parents. After the Fraulein went away, we could eat together with the grandparents. And how happy we were!
I tell you straight, I had a German governess [Fraulein] from Dusseldorf, so I spoke rather in German with her, because she demanded that. Her name was Lia Britz, she was around 20, and she was a true German lady. She was young and cross-eyed. We had many photos with her, but she blurred her face on every photo. On the old photos naturally you stood straight, I was on her right side, and my brother on her left. And we were photographed this way, it looked like a postcard. She blurred her face on the photo, to hide her eyes. She couldn’t see herself, but she knew that she is cross-eyed. She could see it on the photos. It was forbidden to my mother to educate us, the governess did that. ‘Don’t intervene. If you didn’t need me, I go home.’ That was her prompt. She was very severe, and we hated her for that. She was an intelligent, clever woman, but she came to us to earn money. These German women used to work as governesses, this was a source of income for them. They came to Romania, educated children, but they requested a lot of money for that. There were folders, we found her this way. The grandparents told that the Germans are good educators. They were appreciated for their work. But as a small child I considered exaggeration what they [the governesses] did. She raised me austerely, after the German example. She taught us good manners, how to sit at the table, how to behave and how to dress. I learnt that I had to eat this way not that way…And I do a lot of things how I learnt from her. She pursued hers point, but she didn’t intervene when my grandparents asked me not to turn on the light [at Sabbath]. She used to turn on the light then. She accepted it too, but I she didn’t put any pressure on me, she just focused on my education. She wanted me to be well-educated. All of my life they tried to educate me not in the Jewish, but in the European spirit. Not to mention that she didn’t speak Hungarian at all, only German. We spoke German with each other. We scolded her so badly, that I had no words for that. She asked us ‘What you say? What you say?’ ‘Nothing, we just chat.’ When we were together with my brother and my cousins, we spoke about her of course. We detested her because she had no sentiments. I don’t remember if she ever praised me. The governess was so severe, that once - I don’t know why - when my mother screened me, she rebuked my mother: ‘You educate the child or I?' This hurt my feelings very much… I was a puny, weak child. I'm a small eater, and I was small eater in my childhood also, but the governess said that I had to eat what is in my plate. She didn’t understand that I couldn’t eat it, she said that I had to! I ate it, and I vomited it. Then she went to the kitchen, and she brought another portion, what I had to eat. If I vomited it again, she brought a portion again. Everything must happen how she wanted. I remember that I felt very miserable then.
We needed a woman cook, because that was the fashion in the distinguished families. My mother went to the kitchen only when she wanted. I liked better my mother’s meals that the woman cook’s ones. She cooked delicious foods.
Romania
My mother liked to concoct and she baked very well, although she wasn’t enforced to do this. She learnt the secrets of the confectionery. She applied to a confectionery course by replying to an advertisement, she went to a confectioner and she learnt to prepare cakes and candies. She baked splendidly. But of course, her receipt-books disappeared together with her other things. And she liked to bake very much. She prepared always what I liked, for example candies with sour cherry with and fondant. The fondant is the white filling, what they used to put in the chocolate candies.
Romania
In my opinion my mother was the best woman in the world. She was the best mother and the best wife. She was very nice. If any problem occurred in the family, they called her 'Oli, come please!' If somebody was sick, she went to nurse him/her. The governess took care about the children. She was a helpful, very decent woman. We had no financial problems. We had problems with the health. After my mother divorced, the acquaintances brought the suitors, but she didn’t want to marry again. This came in useful for me as a child, because the suitors used to bring presents for the children. When I was elder, I asked her, why she didn’t marry again. Then she said: ‘Listen my daughter, if a father scolds – we didn’t talk about beating – his child, that is normal. But I couldn’t tolerate a stepfather to rebuke my children.’ So she devoted herself for us. She was a blessed woman. Everybody says his/her mother is the best, but I say that she was better than the best. So I loved her with all of my heart. I lost her so many years ago, and I mourn for her even now…She was everything for me. My father was a stranger in comparison with her.
She wasn’t religious, she didn’t wear wig, but she observed the traditions because of the grandparents. That was the only reason; otherwise the grandparents wouldn’t eat together with us. So she strictly observed the traditions. When my brother was forced laborer, and she bought bacon for him, to put it into the package, she put it first in the stove and she told 'There is draft and the bacon needs it.’ [Editor’s note: It is very likely that she also intended to hide the bacon from the eyes of her parents, not only to keep it in a cool place.] I remember, that poor of she told that she would like to taste the bacon. I told her ‘Taste it without fear, nothing bad will happen!’ She told ‘No. No, no. My grandparents instilled her not to eat bacon.
She went to the synagogue only at Yom Kippur. The highest Jewish holiday is the Day of Atonement, the Yom Kippur. Is forbidden to eat or drink anything on that day. It was forbidden to put anything in your mouth. And usually you had to spend the whole day in the temple. My mother always observed this. She went to the nearest prayer house where the women used to pray…and they chatted all day long. And we, the children, ate the prepared foods at home, instead of fasting. We were ‘very good’ children also. So these things happened.
She wasn’t religious, she didn’t wear wig, but she observed the traditions because of the grandparents. That was the only reason; otherwise the grandparents wouldn’t eat together with us. So she strictly observed the traditions. When my brother was forced laborer, and she bought bacon for him, to put it into the package, she put it first in the stove and she told 'There is draft and the bacon needs it.’ [Editor’s note: It is very likely that she also intended to hide the bacon from the eyes of her parents, not only to keep it in a cool place.] I remember, that poor of she told that she would like to taste the bacon. I told her ‘Taste it without fear, nothing bad will happen!’ She told ‘No. No, no. My grandparents instilled her not to eat bacon.
She went to the synagogue only at Yom Kippur. The highest Jewish holiday is the Day of Atonement, the Yom Kippur. Is forbidden to eat or drink anything on that day. It was forbidden to put anything in your mouth. And usually you had to spend the whole day in the temple. My mother always observed this. She went to the nearest prayer house where the women used to pray…and they chatted all day long. And we, the children, ate the prepared foods at home, instead of fasting. We were ‘very good’ children also. So these things happened.
Romania
I have to tell you that in 1940 when we have been annexed to Hungary [1], we got automatically the Hungarian citizenship. My father didn’t give up the Romanian citizenship because of us. We became Hungarian citizens automatically, but he didn’t. A German soldier was moved to our house, he was a decent young man and he asked us about my father. I don’t know how this came into question that we are Romanian citizens after our father. He advised us not to tell this to anybody, because we could get into trouble otherwise. We never told it to anybody, nobody knew nothing except his administrator, who reported him at the police for that. The administrator wrote in his report that my father is a Romanian spy. My father ended up in Kistarcsa this way. My brother went to visit him in Kistarcsa in 1940-42 or 1943, and I told him I would go with him. He answered Kistarcsa is not a place for girls. I don’t know anything about my father from then on. I know, because he related to my brother, that he had hernia and I don't know whether before or after the operation clinical death occurred. They took him to the hospital, and put him into cold water and hot water and resuscitated him. After that, they took back him to Kistarcsa. That’s all I know. I don’t know if he was deported. I don’t know. I don’t know anything. These are the things I can relate about my father.
My father’s estate was more than a thousand acres large. I don’t know if they grew plants there. There were all kinds of things; they had to feed the animals and to maintain the farm. So they had wheat and corn for sure, but I didn’t care about it. I admired the animals, there were seed-horses and stocker cows, who gave I don't know how many liters of milk daily. He liked farming very much. He had an manager, kind of an administrator, who managed the thousand acres estate, and each year they used to bring animals to Budapest to the international fair. They grew all kinds of animals, from pigs to Icelander hens. Those had rings on their legs. The cock was really handsome. Once they took up a three hundred kilogram fat pig to the fair… So they had all kinds of animals, and many acres of land too. It was a model farm. My father enjoyed his job very much. He used to go everywhere with a britzka. The young groom sat in the back and my father drove the horse. I was very happy when we three, together with my brother, went with the britzka and the white horse... That horse had a problem, I remember such silly things, it used to bite off the villager women’s knot. He had sharp teeth, the women wore shawl, but the horse bit off the knot together with the shawl, and the knot remained in its mouth. We had to be careful because if the horse noticed a woman, it went after her to bite her knot off. This was its mania. My father told me not to beat the horse for this, because the animal wouldn't understand it.
At first period I felt awfully at my father’s place, probably because I was accustomed to the kosher household. My father didn’t observe the Jewish traditions. He had no kosher household. He had a woman cook, a house-maid and everything he wanted. But I couldn’t eat the meals made with sour cream. For example I remember I liked squash, but they made it with sour cream, so I couldn’t eat that. My father called my mother on the phone and asked her how should they cook for me. There was ham, boiled ham. I got so sick from it I vomited it out, so I wasn’t accustomed to the treyf household Then I got used to it, but I still don't like having sour cream in the meal. We used to spend 2-3 weeks there. At most four weeks, not more. My father had a lady friend, we got acquainted with her, she was a very attractive woman. But my father never got married again. He lived alone in a mansion-like house. We were on good terms with him, we had no problems.
Before 1940 I visited my father every year, and he used to come twice a year to visit us in Varad. In 1940 we were annexed to Hungary, and traveling wasn’t a problem anymore. And then we used to visit him almost every summer. When we grew older, my mother allowed us to spend the summer holiday with our father. So we were on good terms, we had no problems. He used to help us, so he asked all the time what we needed, but I had to answer: ‘Thank you, we have all we need.' A child always needs something, but I had to answer that. But he always brought something. He lived in Hungary, he could get more things than us. Not to mention the Bohemian shoes he brought. He brought skating boots, heavy boots and many other things. Once he asked me in a letter what I needed. I wrote him I needed a raincoat. ‘All right, please send me your measures.’ And we went to a tailor and he took my measures, he added some centimeters to them, not to outgrow the coat until the next year. My father received my letter, he went to the store, and he told he needed a raincoat for his daughter. ‘Well, you know, we have to add some centimeters not to be too tight.’ And when I put the raincoat on and I looked into the mirror, I almost burst out crying. all of them added some centimeters to the measures, and I was a thin, puny girl. It looked on me like the trousers on a cow. My poor mom said: ‘Never mind!’ I remember where the tailor in Varad was, in the small marketplace, and he altered it for me. And it became so nice everybody from my class envied me.
I corresponded all the time with my father, he used to visit us twice a year. My father lived in Hungary, in Tornyosnemeti, near the Bohemian–Hungarian border. He was a communicative person – everybody liked him in the village. The half of his estate was in Bohemia and the other half in Hungary, so he had a permanent pass, I used to go with him quite often to Kassa. He had his share inherited from the family, he managed a part of his sister’s and brother-in-law’s estate also, and he had his own estates too. Probably he bought more land with his capital.
I lived together [in the other part of the house] with my mom, my brother and my two cousins, Agi and Evi, my uncle’s daughters, who were villagers, but they attended school in Varad. We were like four siblings: my brother and the three girls. It wasn’t enough for them to meet only at Christmas and Pesach, so my cousins’ parents rented a car. The driver used to carry my uncle’s family with his own car. And when we visited them, at the summer holiday, we went by car. I was 15 when I first got in a car.
After my parents divorced, we moved to Varad. First we lived on Kalvaria Street, but that house was rented, and then they bought this duplex house. This was a bigger house, with a large garden. It had two gates and two apartments, and the middle wall was common with the neighbor. I remember the times we lived in Varad. I regained that house after the deportation and I sold it.
After my parents divorced, we moved to Varad. First we lived on Kalvaria Street, but that house was rented, and then they bought this duplex house. This was a bigger house, with a large garden. It had two gates and two apartments, and the middle wall was common with the neighbor. I remember the times we lived in Varad. I regained that house after the deportation and I sold it.
After my parents got married, they lived in Alsoszopor, because my mother got an estate there as a marriage portion and my father was a farmer there. And the house is still there, even today. Then they divorced and I don’t know how they divided the estate after the divorce, I was 3 years old, so I couldn’t know and I didn’t care much. But I was in Alsoszopor, and twenty years ago, when I was there, the house was still there. And I entered the house and I could tell where the dining room, the spare room and the bedroom was. I could tell because I remembered exactly. We had a separate children’s room. I remember even the cribs, in one corner there was my brother's crib, and in the other one there was mine. These are things people remember. But there are things I completely forgot. My brother was 5 when my parents divorced. I don’t know why my mother went to Nagyvarad to give birth, probably she thought she would be in better hands, especially after she lost a baby. She was probably afraid.
Andris wanted to emigrate to Israel, right after we got married, but I didn’t really liked Israel. Many of his friends are there, and he was there. I often reprove myself for it, because I was the one who said I don’t have the strength to move to a new country, because it is possible that it would have been better for my child. But I knew I could never learn that language. I have a very bad sense of language.
I have never been at the Community. In 1982 or 1983 we attended a memorial for the Holocaust and I promised myself I would never go anywhere. I was a Jew who didn’t know I had to go to the synagogue wearing a shawl. I was so embarrassed there... There [in the synagogue] I knew very few people, because I had no way of knowing any Jews from here. A woman sat next to me, and she gave me one; I don’t know why she had two shawls.