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Introductions
I'm Alison, I'm Ashlyn, I'm Ally, I'm Jeff, and I'm Sophia. We are here with Dora Apsan Sorell. It is May 1, 2007 and we are in Berkeley California.
I am Dora Apsan Sorell. I was born in Sighet, Romania, 1921, September 2nd. I spent all my pre-war years there in my hometown. I was taken to Auschwitz in 1944 together with the Hungarian transports. I was one year in Auschwitz and in a second camp, Weisswasser. I was liberated two days before the end of the war. I returned to Romania and I married and went to medical school. We got stuck in the communist regime for about 16 years, before we could come out and meet my remaining brothers who were outside during the war. I have three children and seven grandchildren. I am a physician and I am retired. I moved to California about eleven years ago to be with children and grandchildren.
Why are you telling your story?
I am telling my story because some of my past has an importance to the present generation. It would not have been so important if I wouldn't have lived through the Holocaust, but the Holocaust was such a trauma to the family and to my future, and if the new generations would know, I think there is a way to learn the lesson and to prevent another genocide.
What is your first childhood memory?
My first childhood memory is when I went to cheder with my boys—with my brothers, I had seven brothers—they all went to cheder and they sent me too. I must have been four or five years old. There was this Hebrew class, an old teacher, it was dark, it was a long table, many many children. And in the back yard he had some doves. I was a very curious girl, and I wanted to see what he had there and I opened it and the doves flew out. That rabbi, melamed, was so mad, he slapped me. I was very upset about it. When I came home, my mother and father they had company, my aunt—one of my aunts came to introduce her fiancé. I was so upset I couldn't talk to them. That's about all.
What is cheder?
A cheder is a Hebrew school where the children went to learn from a melamed. Hebrew—and it was not the modern Hebrew, it was Lushen Kodesh this is how they call this. There were prayers and the history. When the boys became six—seven years old, it was parallel, half a day they spent in that cheder and half a day in the official school. And because everybody was a boy in my family, they sent me also to cheder. Apparently I was a very good student there.
Were there not many girls there?
Almost none at all.
Life in Sighet
Can you describe your home to us?
My hometown—it was Sighet—is in the northern part of Romania, and it was bordered with Czechoslovakia. It was a frontier town, very close, we could go cross the bridge and have a pass and everybody would to go to Czechoslovakia to do shopping. It was a town with about 30,000 people, and they were equally divided between Romanians, Hungarians, and Jews. Actually there were 12,000 Jews in this town. It was a very Jewish town. I wouldn't say shtetl because it was not a village. It was a town with many, many cultural activities and even a theater and movie house. The Jewish life was extremely traditional. There were many, many synagogues of many denominations and there lots of shuls, little praying places in private homes. Everybody was observant. I would say that my father, he was part of one Hasidic sect called the Vishnitzer sect. They were a little bit more modern—the Vishnitzer rabbi was in another town, also in that part of Romania—and he was a little bit more enlightened in the sense. He also went to Yeshiva—my father—and in the Yeshiva he learned Hungarian and he learned German and a little accounting. After the First World War he first had a grain store. I don't think it went well, the grain store. Then he became an insurance agent to an Austrian company. Is this okay what I'm saying? He read a lot and he was very proficient in Hungarian and in German. Our town had many schools, had many organizations. I remember how I attended many Zionist organizations. There was a time when I was with Mizrachi and then latter with the Aviva Barisia. That was where we learned a little Zionism and the history of Zionism and we learned about Palestine. And we had our own entertainment there—we met boys.
Since there were a lot of Jewish people in your town, did you have any contact with people who were not Jewish?
At school only, in school. I started school at the age of seven and, sure, there were Romanian and Hungarian girls. It was elementary school—four years. If one wanted to go to high school, one didn't have to go further. There were eight years, actually, of elementary, for those who did not follow the academic line. But—this is what I want to say—my father was more enlightened because he allowed me—he accepted me to go to high school. I remember that he made a rule, "You can go to school, but you never take notes on Saturday." So, I promised him I would not take notes on Saturday. In the elementary school, yes, I met many Hungarian and Romanian girls. Actually, I sort of tutored one of the Romanian girls. This one went on to high school I tutored her and she was always the number one, obviously. I was number two. In my third year, I tutored. Her name was Bitsa. But our friends were only the Jewish girls and we met every Saturday and we sang and we cracked nuts and—how do you call those seeds? I forgot. And we sang many Zionistic songs. The friendships, I had very good friends.
My first year of elementary school I had a friend whose name was Suri. After the first year we moved to another part of the town, so my second year was in another elementary school. I was very upset about having to leave the school and to leave Suri. The funny part is that Suri became my best friend. We had only one year together and every Saturday I visited her and the other Jewish girls. Suri is still alive. She was born one day before me and she remembers my birthday. She just called me on September from Netanya [Israel], so it was a good friendship. She stayed with the elementary school eight years. She became a dressmaker as it was the most preferred profession for Jewish girls. Can I tell you a joke about this? You can use it, or not. When I was already a doctor in New York—and I like very much to sew and to knit—I decided to take a course at Sears, a sewing course. I went together with a friend of mine, Margie, and I told her, "Margie, don't tell them that I am a doctor." So, we go to the course and we introduce ourselves and she just couldn't keep her mouth shut. "My friend the doctor." So the other ladies said, "You are a doctor, so what are you doing at this sewing course?" And I said, "My mother always wanted me to be a seamstress, but see, I'm a doctor instead."
That's the joke. Because that was a very good profession, but very few Jewish girls went to high school. So, when I finished elementary school I started high school. It was a very elite school, very few girls went to high school and very few Jewish girls went to high school. It was also very expensive and I remember how we had to pay the fees. It was a lot of money. Only after a few months did my father realize that he's a veteran of the First World War and he might be exempt of the tuition. And indeed, I became exempt and I got back the money, which was a good thing—we were all very happy about that. It was much easier to continue high school. When I went to high school—again I was a very good student—from the third year of high school, I already tutored, Bitsa and others. There were two Jewish girls whom I tutored at the age of thirteen, and I got paid by them. Well, I would say we were not poor, just middle class, but you know me making some money made a difference, I really could choose what I wanted for winter, my own winter coat, ordering and whatever to be done.
All along in high school, I tutored students. The anti-Semitism was such that it was always harder for a Jewish girl to make it. I do not remember any pogroms in our hometown. I don't remember anybody to have been expelled, but there was a lot of discrimination, and we were always second-class citizens. When I was in the upper classes—we had eight years of high school—when I was a junior or a senior, again, at the end of the year they give—how do you say—awards, and Bitsa, whom I tutored, got the first award, the best student. She passed in the senior year with 97 out of 100. I was number two with 96 out of 100. I remember very well how we met after our class—how do you call it?—class mistress?—and Bitsa was in front of me, she didn't see that I am coming and she said "Bitsa you made it!" So it was very important to make her number one.
The school was quite strict and we learned very serious topics because if you have a high school diploma from Romania at that time, they equated with three years of college here. I remember that I had French for eight years, we studied Latin for six years, German for four years, Greek for two years. This was all language because we didn't have too many science teachers. I really was the smartest at the age of eighteen. I was never as smart, I never knew so much. Zoology, botany, and sociology, psychology and even cooking, housekeeping, sewing, knitting and so on and so forth. This was our curriculum. In my senior year of high school I even had a boyfriend. If you ask, sure, he was Jewish, there was no other way, right? We spent our free time at this age hiking the Carpathian Mountains—we were very close, and there were some resort places in our province—and we had very good times. I also went to dancing school every Saturday, dancing with boys. My parents didn't even know that. It was not allowed.
Why were you not allowed to take notes on Saturdays?
Because father wouldn't allow me, it was a sin to take notes, he was very observant and girls—I mean, you didn't write on Saturday.
Could you tell us about your religious life, how religion was a part of your life?
I would say that everybody was religious, everybody was observant. If we knew a Jewish person who was not kosher, he was not considered a mensch, I mean he's lost to us. So yes, observant, everybody was, but there were various degrees of observance. We also kept kosher, obviously. I just remembered one incident about this. I must have been fifteen or sixteen years old and it was Yom Kippur. I visited some cousins and they had an orchard and we walked on the orchard and they had walnuts. I found a green walnut on the ground and I cracked it and I started to open it, and then I realized it is Yom Kippur, and I had to spit it out. But I had sinned already, I knew that I had sinned, this is how it went, right? Sure those feelings evolved, but we were all very observant.
What was the name of your synagogue?
Vishnitzer synagogue. I told you my father was a Vishnitzer Hasid and latter on I will tell you how he wrote a book about that.
Was there a fair bit of segregation?
No, I would not say. But most of the Jews lived in the center of the city and almost all the businesses were Jewish. Sure, there were Hungarian businesses, Romanians, and in our courtyard not all were Jewish, no, you could live wherever you wanted at that time.
How did anti-Semitism affect your life?
I did not feel it but, I knew, right, that we are minorities and they don't like us as much. But I did not feel that somebody would discriminate against me personally. Also I had a very Jewish—I'm sorry—Apsan was a very Romanian name. There was in the city another Apsan, a Romanian guy, I do not no how my family got that name, probably a few centuries before. There were two villages in the province—our province in Czechoslovakia—upper Apsan, and lower Apsan. There is a possibility they got the names from there. But since it was a Romanian Apsan some considered me Romanian. I also spoke Romanian very well, and sometimes they didn't know I was Jewish and it pleased me to trick them. But the only think is that they wouldn't let me be number one, which, we understood that.
Can you tell us some more of your experiences with anti-Semitism, when you felt discriminated against?
No, I could not tell you, as I told you, I felt quite comfortable because the Jews were the majority—there were 12,000 Jews out of 30,000—and because we had a very good Jewish life with synagogues, and with Zionist organizations, and with crowds. I did not feel it. My Romanian colleagues were very nice, I tutored most of them, I told you, and no, I would not say.
Can you clarify in your community who were Romanian's who were Hungarian and who were Czech?
This part of Romania was called Transylvania, and in this part—it is northern Romania—and this was part of Austro-Hungary. And during Austro-Hungary, the majority were Hungarians and Jews. During the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Jews had it very well. They were allowed really, to prosper. After the First World War, the Romanians got it, and there were many Romanians in the villages, and then they moved into the cities—into the town to. So by my time—and some Hungarians too—by my time they were almost equal number. I have to tell you, there were many Germans in that province, it was called Maramures, Sighet was the capital of Maramures. There were a few villages with German people, there were many Gypsies around who were come and going. There were some Ukrainians. It's very interesting, when I was going in the summer to visit my grandparents—our summer vacation was spent with—in the villages we had at least thirty or forty relatives—grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins—in various villages. It was very interesting to realize that one village was Hungarian, one village almost completely Romanian—this is my mother from that village. The next village was completely Ukrainian—Rutanian they called them—my father was from that village. They were various minorities. And then after the war Ukrainians took all the part which was beyond the border of Romania at that time. There is more to geography to understand what happened there.
Family Traditions
Can you tell us about your family?
I told you, my family consisted of—My father was married before and he had three boys, and his first wife died after she had the third child—the third boy. This was in Czechoslovakia because before my parents married, all of this was Austro-Hungary that then became Czechoslovakia. It's a little complicated I know. Ater the First World War, my father married my mother who was from the next village, Sapantza—father was from Remetz. He married, and everybody was wondering, a young girl of twenty-one marries a old man of thirty-two with three boys? But my grandparents had eleven children, and there were seven daughters and they were really happy not to need dowry for one of them because they did not need dowry. But later on they realized that my mother had the best marriage of all of them.
I still have a cousin in Israel who just wrote his autobiography in Hebrew and he has my father's picture and he says—this what I just told you—everybody was wondering, "A pretty young girl marrying..." But he was the nicest man. Then they had four other—five other children. I was the first, and four little ones. So we had seven brothers. But at that time the young men didn't stay at home, after the Bar Mitzvah they went either to school or to learn a trade, or to Yeshivas. This way we almost never had really the eight—seven brothers around. But I felt really privileged having so many brothers, they all loved me, and I was only girl who had a birthday party, the only sibling to have a birthday party, everybody knows my birthday. I didn't know all the birthdays of all my brothers but the knew my birthday. So, three older and four younger brothers. I had my grandparents in one village Sapantza, and I had many, many cousins. I traveled every summer to another village to stay with a relative. I have a whole story about some of the villages where I visited.
What were your family traditions?
Whenever I read things written by the Eastern Jews, it was very, very similar. I think the Jews from Maramures were Jews from Galitsia, so they had the same traditions as the Polish Jews. It's also called the Subcarpathian area, it's all a special region. Sure we had very nice Friday nights. I remember how on Friday day time, the schnorers, how do you call it, the beggars came from the all villages and everybody got his coin or whatever. We always prepared for the schnorers Friday, because they had to go back for Friday night to there homes. And Friday nights my father, always with the boys, went to the synagogue and then they came home for the dinner. It was a very traditional dinner. Saturday morning, I think, my mother went sometimes. On the holy days mother also went. Mother wore a—when she was married she was shaved, as all the religious women, and she wore a wig, a blond wig. But latter on she grew her hair, and at home she didn't wear her wig anymore. As I told you, we were modernized, so she did, only when she went to the synagogue Saturday, she put on the wig, or on very festive occasions. Father had a little little, little beard, never had peyos, always at home he wore a kippah, it was a black shiny kippah, and on the street he wore a hat.
He was quite versed in history, he always studied my books. I don't have to tell you about how Shabbat was and how they brought the cholent. I remember when I had to go to school Saturday, and they first made it much earlier, so I just remember when I came home and my mother was waiting for me with the leftover of the Shabbat dinner, and there was always a dish like an egg with onions and then there was this cholent, and she just sat with me and asked me about my school, and how it was and there was always a little compote, probably apple and prunes, and always some dessert. And that was our day of entertainment, Saturday afternoon, meeting with friends and talking and singing and going to those Zionist meetings.
