MARINA VAYSBERG ORAL HISTORY

DANIELLE WINTER:This is Danielle Winter, and today's date is April 28th, 2014.  I am here at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst, Massachusetts with Marina Vaysberg, and we are going to record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral History Project.  Marina Vaysberg, do I have your permission to record this interview?

MARINA VAYSBERG:Yes, you do.

DW:  Okay, great.  Thank you so much for coming.  Can you briefly tell me about your family background?

MV:  I was born in Kiev, Ukraine.  Beautiful city.  And I happened to be growing up and raised by my grandparents.  And as my grandmother was telling me 1:00all the stories about their childhood and their life, I kind of became a memory keeper of the family -- I consider myself a memory keeper of the family.  And my grandparents used to speak Yiddish.  And I think that suitcase -- Mr. Lansky was talking in his introductory movie, that his mother lost -- I think I have it.  I have my suitcase.  I saved it.  And my grandparents spoke Yiddish behind my back -- they didn't want me to understand what they're talking about.  And I still liked it.  And -- I think this is about my grand-- about my background.  I recently returned to Kiev, to my roots, last year, after 2:00twenty-two years.  And it was very special.  I could see the building and I could hear my grandma's voice.

DW:  That's so nice.  I'm gonna ask you now some more specific questions about your family.  So, who did you live with in your house?  Was it just you and your grandparents, or were there other people living in your childhood home as well?

MV:  Well, it was a big mishpachah [Hebrew: family], if you could say so.  Actually, maybe I should read -- do you mind if I read a piece from my book?  Oh, I forgot to mention -- if I may do so now -- that I'm -- my grandmother used to say that her life was so full of events that one day she could write a book about it.  And as a child, I promised her, "Grandma, I will write a book about you."  So I am in process of writing that book -- a memoir.  So with your permission, I could read a piece.

DW:  Definitely.

MV:  Thank you.

DW:  I'd love that.

MV:  As you ask me that -- we lived in one room, in a communal apartment.  And as I grew up, the room kind of became smaller on one side, but on the other side, it became endless, and you will understand why.  (coughs) When I was little, my living often spoke Yiddish.  I tell you, they spoke Yiddish behind my back in case they didn't want me to understand what they were talking about.  Being lazy, I have never pursued to learn the words -- with few exceptions, of course.  But those words were the music to my ears.  By then, I learned one hard-to-pronounce word, "gornisht [nothing]."  And the word, I think, applied to me very well.  I learned "gornisht."  I came out of this hidden, full-of-Yiddish-language world of my grandparents with nothing.  What 4:00kind of brain was I?  I was definitely not a yidishe kop [Jewish mind].  I was a "kvetch [complainer]," as grandma called me for a while -- not a very fast-thinking kind of person -- altogether, "az okh'n vey [woe is me]," as grandma would conclude.  But Yiddish, this wonderful, musical language ever, was a big part of my childhood situation.  I felt safe listening them with my back, marveling grandma and grandpa voices, and the language itself.  I miss hearing it behind my back.  Also, they couldn't go too far to talk even if they wanted to.  Three of us shared one small room in a communal apartment where we also had to share kitchen and bathroom with two other families.  One room for three people, I felt wealthy and fortunate.  I have never thought until I was a teenager how tight it actually was.  When I was little, I sincerely thought our room was big, beautiful, and luxurious.  It was cozy, though.  I enjoyed being 5:00in our room, in our insane communal apartment, as long as I didn't have to go outside the room.  When I did have to leave the room -- to use the bathroom or take a long walk through the longest corridor to the kitchen -- I had to face the reality of unpleasant smells and -- sound of bickering.  I would have to say hello to balebosta [busybody], the evil neighbor who ruled the place, which I often refused, causing more tension in the air.  I would have to wait for the bathroom dying of pressure on my weakened-by-constant-waiting bladder.  I would have to answer communal phone and knock neighbor's door, which I often refused, telling the person on the other end of the line that no one is home except myself, causing even more tension in the air.  Our room was small -- about twenty by twenty feet, where three people sleep, eat, live.  There was a bookcase, a service, a china cabinet, which hold a good tea service that my 6:00grandpa gave my grandma for our silver wedding anniversary.  There was a wardrobe, a bed, a couch, a convertible chair, my desk -- that converted to a sewing machine desk -- and a dining table with chairs.  How we could fit all that furniture and ourself in the room is still a mystery to me, but there we were.  Some books on the bookshelf were Sholem Aleichem, Sholem Asch, Ovsei Driz, [Elijah Zeskala?].  Also, Russian -- Kuprin, Korolenko -- and Lion Feuchtwanger.  At night, when darkness fell slowly, our room appeared endless to me.  A time like that, I would sit deep in the armchair under the pleasant, shadowy yellow light of the floor lamp, and look around the room, squinting my eyes for better effect.  At other times, sunk in the armchair, I would read and zone out as I did, imagining mysterious kingdoms, just like those that my 7:00grandma told me about in her endless nighttime stories -- stories I loved so much.  It seemed to me that room lived a life of its own.  Furniture moved around slightly to make itself more comfortable.  Dining chairs hid from the wind draft between door and windows.  The wardrobe lazily moved its shoulders, trying to close the shelves because someone left it open and vulnerable.  The bookcase shuffled books and memorabilia on its glass shelves to straighten things up and look presentable.  The couch fixed a blanket over itself so grandpa always felt cozy lying down on it.  This wonderful, unseen ballet, unknown to anyone else but me, was a huge help to my grandma in her busy Cinderella days as she worked, ran the house, cooked, cleaned, and made all the major decisions for three of us.

DW:  That's so nice.  That's so beautiful.  Thank you.  And it's very clear 8:00-- I definitely -- I'm curious to know, the other families in the house -- were they Jewish, as well?

MV:  The baleboste was Jewish, obviously.  She was a real baleboste -- she was a doctor -- or "doctoress," as my grandpa called her.  And they were a family of four.  And there was another family who weren't Jewish -- they were gentile.  But somehow, they were nice people.  And it was one big mishpachah, but there was also a cold war between us -- between three families.  And I had to face it as a child.

DW:  Were you the only child growing up then on this floor -- or in this house?

MV:  It was an apartment.

DW:  Apartment, yeah, yeah, yeah.

MV:  No, there was two children of the gentile family.  The Jewish family had a grownup son.  (coughs) Excuse me.

DW:  So did you have friends growing up who were Jewish and not Jewish?  What was that like?

MV:  I had friends who were Jewish and non-Jewish.  The children of this family were my friends -- it was two girls.  I had a couple of Jewish friends in school and also non-Jewish friends at school.  It was -- it was a little strange.  I always felt being a little -- being in hidden world, as I said -- the hidden world of Yiddish with my grandparents, I always felt a little -- being a little in -- hidden world myself, being Jewish.  And there was nothing I could do about it, because that's how it was.

DW:  I'm sorry -- you said that it was a hidden world?  So you didn't necessarily reveal that you were -- did people know you were Jewish?

MV:  People knew we were Jewish.  Sometimes, kids were rude at school.  We 10:00knew we were different.  That sometimes bothered us, I think.  But on the other hand, it didn't, because when I came home, it was fine.  And I forgot to mention -- and as Sholem Aleichem wrote his first book about his stepmother's sayings, I could write a small chapter about my grandmother's sayings.  So usually if I come from school and my grandma is home, he [sic] would put her hands around her hips and say, "Vos trapylos'?"  Which means "vos [what]" in Yiddish and "trapylos'" is "what happened" in Ukrainian, so it gives a mixture of languages.  And that's -- also gives a picture of the world we were living in -- Jews and non-Jews.

DW:  Would you say you grew up in a Jewish home?

MV:  It's funny.  It's a good question, and I never thought about it until later.  Although on the back of my mind I was trying to hide it -- being Jewish, being different -- on the other hand -- it was a Jewish room, not a Jewish home, because we were in one room.  But yes, my grandparents spoke Yiddish.  They had Jewish friends.  They ate Jewish food, which was a big part of my childhood.  So I could say that I grew in Jewish home.  Yeah.  And I kind of understand it more now, and it gives me more pleasure.

DW:  You said that your grandmother made some Jewish food.  What sort of food did she make?

MV:  Oh.  I -- this is a whole chapter -- (laughs) -- it would be a whole chapter in my book -- a bisl [little] about Jewish food.  And again, I didn't realize it until later, but all she made was Jewish food.  It was gefilte fish -- my favorite.  It was latkes.  It was chicken soup.  It was leykekh [honeycake], that she could make very rare, because the communal stove was very bad and rusty, so that was a problem.  But everything she could meet and -- I mean oven, I'm sorry -- the oven was bad, but the top of the stove was still okay.  And she didn't cook every day, because she was working -- she was a pharmacist -- but when she cooked, she really cooked.  It was a ritual.  Like, cooking gefilte fish was a ritual.  And started with going to market -- a huge market in the Bessarabka center of Kiev -- and getting a best carp fish.  So 13:00then we bring it home and she cuts it and she gives me a lesson on how to cook.  And she said, "You watch me, just like I watched my mother, and that's how you learn."  So if I was home, I was trying to watch her cook.  And she always called me -- I was kind of a chubby girl, and I liked ballet -- I wanted to be a ballerina -- very unlikely -- so grandma used to call me a "well-fed-with-gefilte-fish swan."  That was funny.  And if she cooked chicken, she would make a chicken soup -- bouillon -- which had to be clear -- as clear as brook water.  She did something special to make it really clear.  And then when she cut chicken, she would give me anatomy lessons -- she would show me each organ of the bird.  She -- it would go from bottom -- like, this is a gizzard -- "pupik" -- people like that word.  And there was a liver, which 14:00she made into chicken liver.  And there was a heart -- and she would show it to me, piece by piece.  And the gall bladder -- that was usually a bad part and would have to be removed -- she wouldn't poison everything else.  And I always saw it -- thought about that part more like a -- symbolic.  Like, there's the good part of a person and there's a bad part that poison everything else or everybody else.  So that -- my cooking chapter.

DW:  So nice.  So you would sometimes go to the market with her?  What was the market like?  How did you get there?

MV:  Oh, the market was beautiful.  It was right across of her pharmacy.  And I often went to pharmacy right after school, and I would hang out with her.  And I would do my homework there and we would have dinner -- the usual, herring 15:00and boiled potato -- that was our usual menu.  And the market was beautiful -- it's still beautiful.  When I went there last year and I stepped in, it was just the same, but more beautiful, more expensive.  But everything is best quality.

DW:  And you said that your grandmother only made these special foods during certain times of the year because she was working?  What were those special times -- those special occasions that she decided to make gefilte fish or chicken soup?

MV:  Oh, no.  Gefilte fish was a usual menu.

DW:  Usual menu.

MV:  Oh, yeah.

DW:  Oh, okay.  So what were some of the reasons she would make (speaking at the same time; unclear) --

MV:  The special occasion was matzah -- getting (UNCLEAR).  And that was usually during the holidays.  I don't remember the early years, but I think the 16:00synagogue was closed for some time during my life when I was a child.  But in late '70s, the synagogue opened in Kiev on Podil.  And she was able to get matzah.  I don't know, it was some underground connection -- she was able to get matzah.  I always wondered where she gets it or where she would get a calendar of Jewish holidays.  She always had it.  So that was special -- she would make, I guess, chicken soup.  latkes were made for Passover.  I knew about Passover.  I knew about Purim, because Purim was my grandma's favorite holiday.  Because she was born -- she was actually born on Purim day in 1916.  So that was special.  Those two holidays were more special to me than others.  We couldn't always talk about it or do anything on the holidays, but matzah was like a holiday to me.  Whenever matzah appeared, I knew it's a holiday 17:00coming.  And they dunk matzah in the bouillon -- that's how they ate it -- I guess substituting for matzah balls.  That was -- I thought that was special.

DW:  So tell me about the neighborhood you grew up in.

MV:  The neighborhood called Bessarabka -- and anyone who came from Kiev would know immediately where that is.  And it's the very heart of Kiev.  It's an older neighborhood.  It had its ups and downs.  But mostly, I loved it.  Everything was so close -- my house, my school, the movie theater, my grandma's pharmacy, the marketplace -- all around that little area.  And the interesting part that -- when I grew up, there was a building -- what at that time was a puppet theater.  And I had no idea what it was before.  And actually, I love puppet theater and I went there often.  But when I came last year, it's a 18:00synagogue.  And I learned more about history -- I mean, it's never late to learn -- I should have learned it earlier, maybe -- but that building actually was what called Brodsky Synagogue.  The historical synagogue was built in very early twentieth century, I believe -- or maybe late nineteen -- by a wealthy merchant, Brodsky.  And it was functioning for a long time.  Then, it was closed in the '50s, I believe -- or maybe even earlier.  And in my time, it was turned into a puppet theater, which wasn't such a bad thing.  But now it's back to synagogue.  And it's a beautiful building.  And I walked in and again, I wish my grandmother lived to see that -- she would be very happy.  So I think that is a highlight of the neighborhood.  And I think historically it was a Jewish neighborhood -- that's where Sholem Aleichem lived when he was living in 19:00Kiev.  When I grew up, there was a plaque on the building, and now it's a little museum, which I think is very special.  And there is a monument to Sholem Aleichem righ across from my window, which made me cry when I saw it.  And around the other corner of my street, there is a plaque to Golda Meir, who actually was born and lived her early years in that.  So you can imagine what kind of place is that.

DW:  (pause) So what sort of organizations were you part of growing up?

MV:  Well, we all -- this would have nothing to do with Jewishness --

DW:  That's fine.

MV:  -- of course.  But we all became Pioneers.  And we wore a red tie.  And 20:00we were very active.  We collected newspapers and we collected metal and we took care of elderly -- which was a very good idea, I thought.  I was very active Pioneer and I enjoyed wearing my tie.  I liked my group of people I was in.  And then after that, at age fourteen, we were supposed to become Komsomolists, which didn't work for me very well.  And in order to become a Komsomolist, you had to go to a meeting, and they asked you questions, and if you answer them well, you become -- proudly become a Komsomolist.  When I came in, I had very long hair.  So when I came in, they looked at me and they said, Why don't you go brush your hair and then come back to the next meeting?  I got 21:00very upset.  I never came back.  So I never actually officially became Komsomolist.  But I had a little pin given to my friend, so I considered myself one.  And I did some good deeds too, to prove it.

DW:  Good.  And were your grandparents part of any organizations at all -- political or social?

MV:  Oh, that's a whole next chapter.  (laughs) I like things in order -- maybe because I'm a librarian or maybe because how I am.  But my grandfather was a communist.  He was a communist.  They came from shtetl [small town in Eastern Europe with a Jewish population] -- both of my grandparents came from shtetl -- different shtetls.  But my grandfather became a communist -- Komsomolist, actually -- earlier.  His early years, he was very active.  He believed in revolution and all that -- what was happening.  And then he became 22:00a communist.  And he went to Party institute, and he finished it.  And he was very active leader.  And he came to grandma's shtetl as a leader -- a communist leader -- and eventually became a director of kolkhoz, which is a communal collectivization, that movement.  He was a director of one of the communal farm -- collective farm, sorry.  And that's how they met.  He came to the pharmacy to buy medicine, and he fell in love with my grandma's little dimples and her sweet personality.  But he remained to be a communist leader in that area, and actually was someone -- one of the enemies -- the kulaks, wealthy farmers were trying to shot [sic] him, and for the rest of his life, he had a little dent on his forehead.  So that's -- to answer your question, he was a communist and he 23:00went to World War II as a communist -- as a political leader of the army.  And until -- in 1942, he was actually repressed after Stalin put one of the gulag camps.  And he was there for eight years.  He managed to survive.  As my grandma -- one of the stories my grandma told me, that grandpa had very pretty handwriting -- almost calligraphy kind of handwriting.  And he said that saved his life in there.  But that's another story to be told.  So he was a believer in -- even after the war, after the gulag, after he survived, I'm afraid he was still a believer of that communist movement.  That's how he was.  But 24:00grandmother never joined any, but they -- a little bit back to their -- to the shul -- to the shtetl.  Grandma used to go to shtetl, but grandpa didn't because of his position as a communist.

DW:  So communists did not -- yeah, they didn't go into the shul-- just for ideo--

MV:  They were atheists.  They were against religion.  That was one of the --

DW:  Interesting.  Did your family read any books -- did your grandparents read any specific books that you remember?

MV:  Oh, yeah.  Sholem Aleichem was big part of my childhood, and we had books of him.  It was favorite books.  I think my grandmother always -- when I think about my grandparents, I think they were wandering stars, just like the book of Sholem Aleichem that my grandma loved.  I still have that book on my shelf.  25:00And they told jokes from his books, some of the stories.  That was a favorite author, together with others.

DW:  Did they read Sholem Aleichem in Yiddish or in another language?

MV:  I believe grandma read it in Yiddish in her early years.  There was no Yiddish copy saved, and I think she told me she did read in Yiddish.  I don't -- I believe my grandfather read in Yiddish, too, but he kind of moved from that side of his life.  But grandma did.  I didn't.

DW:  So can you tell me about your general education a little bit?

MV:  Yeah.  It's not very exciting.  (laughs) On the back part, I grew up in Russia and I finished the high school and I went to Polytechnical Institute.  I 26:00have an engineer diploma from Russia.  And then we came here and a little while I went to library school in Albany, New York, and I have a diploma of a librarian.  And I work as a librarian now in academic and public libraries.  And I enjoy my work.  And -- I actually had some books ordered from Yiddish Cent-- not book, but information requested from Yiddish Center when I did search on the song that my grandma loved.

DW:  Yeah, we'll talk about that in a little bit.

MV:  Yeah, sure.

DW:  Awesome.  And -- because it seems like we're starting to fast-forward to your life today, but I wanted to ask one more question about your childhood -- and it does go a little bit into your adulthood, as well, but -- did Kiev change 27:00-- how did it change throughout the years?  And being Jewish, did you notice any changes in what your experience was?

MV:  While I was still there?

DW:  Yeah.

MV:  Well, to me, it was getting more and more beautiful.  I think they -- the historical part of the city was enhanced more and more.  It was renewed from little to little more monuments, more historical places.  In nineteen eighty-- in late '80s, they celebrated fifteen hundred years of Kiev, which is a little exaggerated, but it's really one of the oldest cities in Slavic area.  And that was that.  And as I said, the synagogue -- the Podil Synagogue opened in late '70s.  That also enhanced my understanding -- helped me to understand the 28:00history.  Because I was always torn between being Jewish and being in Ukraine.  Why was that?  Why was I different?  That question was always in the back of my mind.  But that helped.  And I remember, I went there first -- first I went with my grandmother, because when synagogue opened, she went there immediately to -- for Yom Kippur, 'cause she was very guilty about her parents died in World War II.  And then second time, we went to Simchas Torah.  And I vividly still remember that holiday in synagogue, packed of people, and packed of people outside of the synagogue.  So that was -- I think that was a good thing about Kiev, which was actually international city.  And just beautiful.

DW:  Awesome.  And I know you started to do this -- so sorry to jump around 29:00here for a minute --

MV:  That's okay.

DW:  -- but yeah, can you give me a snapshot of your life today?

MV:  My life today is between two libraries, as I said.  I work part of the week in College of Saint Rose Library.  Although it's a Catholic college -- College of Saint Rose -- but it gives me a little bit of comfort, because my grandma's name was Rose, and the College of Saint Rose -- that gives me some -- just the name gives me great comfort.  And I work there as a reference librarian, and I help students to do their research, find books, comfort them during finals -- just like today -- later, I will be going to work.  And I also work in the public library -- it's the Clifton Park Public Library -- it's also in Albany area.  And I like working there.  And I actually did presentation 30:00there about my trip to Kiev last month, which went really well.  And I also read my piece about endless room and people seemed to like it.  So I was doing a little promotion.  (laughs)

DW:  I really liked that.  Have there been any experiences, historical events, or social movements that were particularly formative to your sense of identity?

MV:  I think I already answered that with the synagogue opening.

DW:  Perfect.  That's what I figured.  But --

MV:  Yeah.  That was a great turning point of figuring my identity.  And it came in the perfect time.  I was kind of -- my seventh, maybe eighth grade -- late '70s -- I graduated high school in '79, so I would say it would be '75, '76, '77, and it was the perfect timing.

DW:  Beautiful.  And can you remember a time that -- and you might have 31:00answered this in some way, but -- can you remember a time that you felt particularly Jewish when you were a young adult -- in a good way?

MV:  Particular -- (sighs) -- it wasn't that many moments, mostly because the only place and time I could speak or think about it was home -- or with a few -- very few friends that I had.  But I think little by little, perhaps after synagogue was open, perhaps grandma felt more free to talk about it or think about it.  And there was always notion then as Jewish kids at school we may have been put in a certain position or -- not in the back part of the class, 32:00but, you know -- some teacher -- the anti-Semitism was still there, so there was nothing we could do about it.  But once in -- I believe it was eighth grade or ninth grade -- I stood up for myself with my teacher, because I didn't think she gave me a right grade.  So I told her, "Maybe because I was Jewish?"  And she didn't expect that.  And it kind of helped me to actually get a little bit of confidence -- although I was in general a very confident child, but I think that was also a turning point and gave me a little bit of confidence and identity.

DW:  So we're gonna move forward in this interview and discuss your relationship to Yiddish and Yiddishkayt.  You mention in your story that Yiddish is like "music to your ears," and you also talk about a lexicon you 33:00developed as a memory keeper.  So I'm just curious to know if you have anything else to expand on that, and how did you come to develop the lexicon?  And I think you might have mentioned that in the PIQ -- the questionnaire --

MV:  (speaking at same time; unclear)

DW:  Yeah.

MV:  Well, mostly it came from my grandmother.  I don't know, she was very -- the more I think about it, the more I think back, I imagine it's like a little theater -- a little Yiddish theater, with same three characters -- me, my grandma and my grandpa -- maybe the baleboste and people around the house.  But grandma was very -- she probably would make a good actress, she was very -- she had very expressive eyes, a lot of gestures.  It wasn't just words.  It was words with gestures.  So it's like, (puts hands on hips) "Vos trapylos'" or 34:00(extends hand out with palm up) "gornisht" or (pats top of head) "yidishe kop" -- stuff like that.  Or "tsimes" -- she would have to put it with her hands, because "tsimes" had to be explained more than just a dish or a word.  She actually loved -- she actually never made tsimes, but she loved that word.  That was her lexicon, and I grew up with that.  And it was a music to my ears.  I thought Yiddish was very musical language.  I still do.

DW:  How does your connection to Yiddish and Eastern European Jewish heritage fit into your broader sense of Jewish identity?

MV:  It actually came to me very late, to be honest.  Because as -- I guess as Dr. Wisse mentioned yesterday at the lecture, some people think Yiddish is a 35:00funny language, which could be a mistake.  It wasn't funny language to me -- it was musical, it was language of my grandparents, it was there.  And it was part of my life.  But I haven't heard much -- anybody else speaking Yiddish at my time in Ukraine.  So I cannot identify to myself at that time much -- more when I came here and people from all those different countries -- Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania -- they all speak the same language, so it more came to me together here, rather than back there.

DW:  Interesting.  And how did it come together here?

MV:  In good terms, everybody speak the same language.  Now, we came, we struggled with English, we looked for people who spoke Russian to be comfortable -- especially the earlier years.  And then, little by little -- especially in Brooklyn -- we lived in Brooklyn our first year, and then we went out of New 36:00York City, then we came to Queens -- and you hear the language -- older people -- and older people are my favorite, of course.  So -- they all speak the same language.  It was kind of funny.  It was nice.  It was beautiful.

DW:  That's so nice.  I like that.  And how has your relationship and interest to Yiddish evolved over your lifetime?

MV:  (coughs) I'm sorry, can you --

DW:  No, that's fine.  And you've said some of this, but just to reiterate, if anything has not been said yet at this point -- how has your relationship to Yiddish evolved over your lifetime?

MV:  I actually want to learn Yiddish.  I actually came to that point that I really need to learn Yiddish.  And I think I'm gonna ask my rabbis -- our local rabbi's wife to help me, because they do speak Yiddish.  And they teach their 37:00kids -- they're fairly young people, they're in their thirties -- they do -- they speak Yiddish, I think they read Yiddish -- I have to confirm on that.  But I think it's about time I do it.

DW:  That sounds so nice.  What has been the most important for you to transmit to the generations after you?  I know you have children, so I'm curious to know what part of Judaism -- yeah, you've -- if any at all -- have you given to your children?

MV:  Well, they learn at home.  It's been -- we always knew that we are Yiddish.  We follow certain rules.  We weren't very religious, but we always brought kids to synagogue for Passover and Purim -- my two favorite holidays.  I keep following them.  And same -- and our local rabbi's house now -- we used 38:00to go to Passover and Purim.  My kids are in college now, but when they grew up, we brought them.  They knew -- we didn't have time to teach them Yiddish or bring this up at all, because I had to make sure they speak Russian together with English.  But I think now that they're grown up and they can make their own decision, they know they have this.  They know they had the grandparents -- great-grandparents who spoke Yiddish.  I taught them to respect my grandparents as much as I respected them.  So it's here.  It's in their life.  And I hope at one point they come to the same conclusion that I did now -- no matter when, but I think they -- they're going to have it.  They might even learn Yiddish a little bit.  I'm hoping for that.

DW:  So tell me about the Yiddish music you heard in your home.  You mention "Bay mir bistu sheyn [To me you are beautiful]."  How did you come about researching the song, and --MV:  That song was always in my life.  When I mention that -- that my grandma always sung it, and she said her mother sung it.  So I grew up with an impression that song was born in Ukraine.  And I wasn't completely wrong, because Secunda actually was from Ukraine -- the composer who wrote the song.  So little by little -- and I came -- and I had the CD, and I -- when I came here, I got a CD of Sister Barrys singing.  And I loved the song.  And my grandma sang it, and she was trying to translate it to me -- she sung it beautifully, of course.  So when I came to the question, Where the song came from?  So I immediately wrote the Yiddish Center, and the 40:00woman answered to me, the song was written by Secunda, and he was actually American at that time, in 1932 -- which -- my grandma was about sixteen at that time.  So little by little I got the book -- it was inter-library loan -- my profession helped me a lot -- and I read the book by his daughter, Victoria Secunda, about his life and about how song came in and how popular it came here in United States.  So this song is always in my life, just like my grandmother is.

DW:  As a parent, are there any specific rituals that you've adapted for your own family life?  I know you've mentioned that you took your children to a synagogue, but just if there was anything else you had to add to that at all?

MV:  We've developed a great respect of my grandmother.  And she was still alive and she came to visit us.  And my younger daughter and her made hamantaschen together one year -- my daughter was about eleven or ten.  And they have a picture of her holding hamantaschen like that, hugging grandma.  So that's -- I think that's the best thing -- was ever done in terms of tradition and following -- hamantaschen became a symbol.

DW:  How do you think the identity of younger generations of Jews differ from yours?

MV:  I think it's much better -- much easier for them here in United States.  They don't have to hide or think of how to hide.  They could practice if they 42:00want.  They could speak Yiddish if they want.  They could be in a group of Jewish people if they want.  So I think it's a great opportunity for us, coming here and giving them that chance, as we gave chance to ourselves.

DW:  To what extent do you think language plays a role in transmission between generations?

MV:  I think it's very important.  And I wish I learn it earlier so I could pass it to girls earlier -- to my girls.  But I didn't.  But they know about it.  And they -- I think it's -- the seed is already planted.  I think they already have it in the back of their mind.  So that seed should grow at some point.  And I think it will.

DW:  Some people think Yiddish is dying.  What do you think?

MV:  I don't.  I don't.  I think it's coming back -- as Mr. Lansky wrote in his book, "Outwitting the World [sic]," which I discovered two days ago in my library.  I don't think it's going to die.  I don't -- as long as people like me interested in it and they pass it to their generation.  That's what we should do.  Because it's really a musical language.  That's what I think.

DW:  And what is its current place?  What is Yiddish's current place in the world today, and how do you imagine its future?

MV:  It really depends on people -- of community, on organization.  And I think even if it's spoken in a certain community and certain number of people 44:00and kept in there, it's going to live.  It doesn't necessarily have to cross the ocean or fly by plane somewhere far away -- as long as it's still here with us and we are the people who want to speak Yiddish and think about it and pass it to our kids or our friends.  Even back to shtetl -- I think -- because my grandma lived in the mixed part of a shtetl -- I'm sure there were Ukrainian people who spoke Yiddish, just as they spoke Ukrainian.  So even back then -- it wasn't just in between Jews.  I think -- I'm pretty sure it was spreaded more than that.  So that's what going to happen, I think -- if you get people interested.  And that's what you're doing in this Center.  So non-Yiddish people -- non-Jewish people may even be interested -- secondary, but -- I think 45:00it's gonna live.

DW:  (UNCLEAR) We're nearing our time, but there's a few more questions, and I'll definitely give you an opportunity to share any information that we did not get to in the formal questionnaire.  But before we do that -- and I know you've talked about a few songs and phrases -- but we do ask this every time.  What is your favorite Yiddish word, phrase, or song -- if you have a different -- I know that the Barry Sisters also have influenced you already, but just in general, if you have any other -- if you have another word or phrase or song to add.

MV:  I always like "Hava Nagila."  I don't know, it gives me such an energy, and it's a dance -- I think that brings people together, and I think what -- Jewish songs, they're very energetic -- all of them.  Even -- well, there are some sad songs, of course, but those -- the happy ones, they're very energetic, 46:00and they kind of make you happy and they put people together.  The phrases -- I can't remember longer phrases that grandma said from her lexicon, but she used that word "a bisele" -- like a bisele this, a bisele that -- that was in cooking or non-cooking.  And "yidishe kop" was her favorite.  I wasn't yidishe kop.  I'm sorry.  I failed.  (laughs) But that was a good thing she used.  What did you say, song, phrase?

DW:  Yeah, and even just one.  So that was great.  That was awesome.  (pause) Is there something you'd like to talk about that we haven't gotten to at 47:00this point?

MV:  Yeah, I think the big part on my side -- but it doesn't have to be big with you -- was that how -- the history of the family altogether, which I brought picture -- maybe show them later.  And it was an actually very sad but very interesting story on how two families -- two part of my grandmother's family split, and one ended up in United States, and one stayed in Russia, and that where I came from.  Can I --

DW:  Yeah, please.  Please, yeah.  Definitely.  Tell the whole story.

MV:  So there was -- the family -- it was the Chernobilsky family -- that's my grandmother's family -- it was her grandfather and grandmother, Meyer and Sheyne.  And they had a son, Avraham, who was my grand-grandfather, and daughter, Tamar-Rebeka, who became Rebecca in America.  Rebecca married Joseph 48:00Marinovski, who came to the United States in 1914 -- and I have a record, actually, of -- from Ellis Island.  He came here, and he was supposed -- she was supposed to join him, but she couldn't.  World War II broke, and the pogroms broke.  And she was actually -- their house was in the heart of shtetl, compared to my grandparents later.  And they actually faced pogroms a few times.  And one time she stood for her older father and was beaten and raped.  And after that, the old man decided to try to get to America, too.  And they put on the road -- they have all their belonging, all their money, and with heavy heart, they got on the road.  And they spent a year on the road, and they reached Romanian border -- and they decided to come back.  Because they had very limited resources, and in order to cross the border you had to bribe the guards, and they decided not to do that.  So at the half of the journey, they 49:00returned back away from America to the darkness -- not completely darkness, but a totally different life.  So finally, when Meyer died, Rebecca joined her husband in the United States, and they settled in Buffalo.  And they had two daughters, Shirley and Miriam, my dear, close family that I was honored -- and my grandma got to meet them.  And Shirley has a son, Joel Waxman, who lives in Minneapolis -- who actually is a rabbi who is fluent in Yiddish, who speaks, read in Yiddish.  He actually ordered some books from Yiddish Center.  He's very proud of it.  But my grandmother's family stayed in Russia.  Avraham married Rachel -- those were my great-grandfather's parents.  And my grandmother was -- had older brother, Yosef, who was killed in World War II.  And herself, my grandma Rose.  And she had a younger sister, Manye, who after 50:00the war ended up in Israel.  So we all -- all parts of the family went in three different places.  And for us, in Russia, with Iron Curtain, it was hard to connect with our Israel family -- and American family, God forbid.  So it was kind of another hidden part of our life.  But eventually, we started to get letters and parcels.  Can I read a short piece?

DW:  Please.  Yeah.

MV:  Do we have time for that?  It's a much shorter piece, but it's very funny, and it has some Yiddish in it.  So little by little, as I said, letters started to arrive from America.  And then one day, the parcel came, and that was a big thing.  (reading) One day, the parcel arrived from America.  For some reason, it was delivered to the apartment.  Baleboste had to be the one to open the door to mailman.  Red-faced, she was outraged when she knocked our door and hand grandma the box.  "I didn't know you had relatives overseas," she 51:00spoke through her clenched teeth, swallowing her pride and stepping over her ego.  Grandma mumbled something like, "Yeah, how did you guess?  Az okh'n vey."  And she closed the door behind evil woman.  We knew she continued to stand behind the door -- that's what she often did -- so we didn't speak for a little while, and then we whispered.  (UNCLEAR) said grandma to grandpa, and she rolled her eyes.  Her face was very descriptive with expression of the moment.  "Who is it from" -- I finally jumped in -- "grandma?"  "Oy gevalt," she said.  She was as surprised as I was, and a little concerned.  Apparently, there was a time when people -- especially Jewish people -- were afraid to receive overseas packages or any mail at that point.  So that was my first.  And we sat around that package for a long time, and finally, we opened it.  So that was my connection with my family.

DW:  And did you know you had family in all these places, or not --

MV:  Well, grandma tried to keep it from me, because she was afraid I'd talk about it at school.  She was afraid I'd -- her sister, Manye, from Israel started to communicate a little bit earlier.  She was sending little glittery Rosh Hashanah cards, and they were beautiful, and I kept them in an old chocolate box, and grandma was afraid I'd bring them to school.  So little by little, she was telling me, you know, "Maybe you should keep quiet about it."  And I didn't know anything about American family -- let alone people speaking English.  We have people who speak different language?  We have family in America?  That was crazy.  That was breathtaking.  So little by little -- but she didn't tell me about the American family until the package came.  So after that, I knew I had family in America and in Israel, which was absolutely crazy at that time.

DW:  So nice.  I only have one more question before we bring out your pictures 53:00and you can show me all that good stuff, so if there's anything else that you would like to add at this time, that would be fantastic.

MV:  The only thing I could add -- I probably should end it as I started it, with the endless room and my memories about my grandparents, who brought this whole Yiddish language and Jewish world to me -- which wasn't easy in Russia, believe me.  But as -- when I picture my grandparents, I picture Chagall's painting, "Stroll" -- which we could see later -- because they're wonderful, interesting people.  And grandma was really a flying soul.  And just as she loved Sholem Aleichem, she was taking life with humor.  Laughter was really her 54:00best medicine.  And I will say, too bad she couldn't sell it or give it in pharmacy, because she could have.  Because anything happened -- and they had a lot of happening in their life -- there was -- just like wandering stars, they were separated for ten years after the war, and they reunited.  And there were other sad events in their life -- their parents were killed, their brothers and sisters were killed in the war, they lost everything, they never returned to their home in Kiev, they had to travel a lot -- but all that, she was taking it all with a little bit of humor, a little bit of smile, a little bit of laughter.  And that's, I think, how life's supposed to be taken.  And that's why I like Yiddish language, which came to me with laughter.  And I like the whole Jewish culture, which is huge and important to me.

DW:  That's a great way to then ask my follow-up question, which is, What advice do you have for future generations?

MV:  Just be yourself if you can.  It took me a while to be mys-- to realize that I could be myself.  And don't forget your roots.  Don't forget your roots -- your parents, your grandparents, your great-grandparents -- as far as you can go.  If you can bring that to yourself and your next generation, that would be great.  That would be awesome.

DW:  Thank you.

[END OF INTERVIEW]