Walking on the streets of Bucuresti always made me smile and hum. When I close my eyes, I still smell the linden trees in the spring and hear the sound of horse carriages strolling on ancient stone pavement, while in the distance an accordion is playing.
The so called “Little Paris of the East” was one of Europe’s most stylish city: its elegant architecture, tall prominent sculptures, refined confectionaries that spread into the air the scent of fresh coffee, latest fashion proudly worn on the streets, people gracefully walking while holding each other’s arm, hats being lifted in salutation and gentlemen greeting each other in French -the fortunate majority was educated at prestigious schools in France. But not me.
I was thirteen years old when my parents decided to send me to a tailoring apprenticeship. They used to say that “I will never starve once I master a manual profession”.
Madam Esther, an old Jewish widow, put to work a dozen of us, in return sharing her knowledge of “the art” of tailoring. For five years I have never received any pay, but I was content to learn very quickly how to turn inside out the wool fabric of the coats -in the late 1940s’, after the big war, everybody wanted their coat to look like new. I got to have many customers.
On my lunch break, I enjoyed going to the park across the street. I always chose to sit in the sun, on a bench and had a sandwich. I used to love closing my eyes while the rays of light gently touched my face, and fly away with my thoughts. The chirping of birds was the only company I needed.
And all the time I got so excited opening the food box my Mommy prepared for me, even though I knew it had to be either a hard boil egg or lard spread sandwich. But I wasn’t disappointed as I appreciated any food. Except for the green beans! During the war, for far too many days, my family and I ate mostly green beans - I hate them now.
At the end of the day, when the time came to go home, I went back walking, even though it took me close to one hour. Everyday, my Daddy was giving me 1 Leu for a round-trip second class ticket by tram, but I preferred saving the money so one day I could buy myself a bicycle.
I didn’t mind walking home. I loved crossing the park, then having a sesame pretzel while strolling on the main Magheru Boulevard, and staring at fancy women wearing real fur coats. They looked so happy! I said to myself that one day, I will save enough money so I can buy a fur coat, maybe I’ll become happy, too.
Madam Esther was a tough, strict and very cheap woman who, during my five years apprenticeship with her, showed me kindness only once.
It was 31st of December 1946 when I told her I wished I could celebrate New Years’s Eve at the ball hosted by the National Officers’ Circle Palace, but I didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. It never crossed my mind that she will lend me an elegant outfit for the occasion, but she did. That night I wore a burgundy red velvet dress and a soft light brown mink coat. Oh, that coat! I felt like a princess, and I danced the night away on famous songs like Zaraza -it was one of the most beautiful nights of my life.
And I never forgot it, because then, I met Teddy. Tall, handsome, proud, well spoken and educated, my smiling Teddy.
Since that night, we became very close. We used to go for picnics in the park and lay together on the grass, or get lost in the city while riding our bicycles (yes, I finally saved enough money to buy myself a Victoria). Sometimes, in the hot summer days, we went swimming with our friends -they all knew we were going to spend the rest of our life, happy and inseparable. But we didn’t. I married somebody else, although Teddy remained the love of my life.
The last time I saw him, I was about seventy years old, and we were both in the same tram, downtown Bucuresti. He approached me with excitement but, even though I was a widow, I couldn’t find strength to even look into his eyes. All the poetry that we once had, was buried deep in the past. I felt old and ugly, my beauty and joy got lost in time. He failed me, and after that, my life got tough.
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I always enjoyed listening to her stories. We used to drink good Turkish coffees while we spent hours in her kitchen, talking and remembering the past.
She was the strongest woman I have ever known, a woman of many accomplishments, during her life succeeding of owning not only fur coats, but much more.
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