VISITING THE HOMELAND - Botosani, Suceava, Bucharest, Romania Jul 2016

VISITING THE HOMELAND

Botosani, Suceava, Bucharest, Romania  July 2016

It all started with a Marshall Fellows dinner at Scott Jacobson's house in Phoenix, Fall 2015. There was the usual variety of bright, interesting up-and-coming European leaders and we've always enjoyed these gatherings immensely. But this one proved to be special.

Former mayor and ideal host

During dinner Eileen turned to her companion to the left and asked, "And who are you and what do you do?" He replied, "I'm Ovidiu Portariuc, mayor of a small city in Romania called Botosani."

Something clicked in her brain; that obscure name sounded familiar. She promptly called her mother and asked her what was the name of the town in Romania that Grandma Leah and her family was from.


She responded, "Botosani." (When Eileen told her that she was sitting next to the mayor she said, "Oh, I didn't know you were in Romania." Eileen assured her that was not the case.)

Enjoying the park

So when we said our good-byes at the end of the evening, we assured Ovidiu that someday we would visit Romania and he replied that he would be happy to show us around.

Little did he know that we would hold him to that generous promise. We arrived in Botosani the following July 2016--an eight-hour train ride from Bucharest through limitless sunflower fields.

Hearing about our ancestors

Although Olividiu was not longer the mayor, he was still very involved in politics. Nevertheless, he cleared his busy schedule and met us at our hotel the next morning for a day of touring "his" city, which had a beautiful park and amazing gardens.

A modest exterior

One of our requests was that, if possible, we'd like to meet with members of the Jewish community there. Apparently, the former mayor had some pretty strong connections because waiting for us at the city's last remaining synagogue by Mr. Josef David, head of the Jewish community. 

The beautiful interior

When we entered the synagogue we were startled to see the family name, Smilovici, on a plaque in the entrance--someone who may have been a relative.

Mr. David related to us in Romanian the story of the Jews of Botosani, duly translated into English by Ovidiu. Back in the very early 1900's the Jewish population in Botosani was 25,000 or 72% of the population - the highest percentage of any large city in the world at that time.

Paying our respects

Surprisingly, the Jews of Botosani did not suffer the same fate during World War II as so many Eastern European communities. They were able to keep their jobs and were not shipped off to concentration camps. But, sadly, the children and grandchildren have moved on to other cities with more opportunities. Today 70 (mostly elderly) Jews remain. 

The venerable Mr. Finkel

Joining us was Mr. Finkel. a self-designated genealogist who had taken it upon himself to research family ancestry in the town's old and restricted archives. We had the opportunity to view some of the meticulous, hand-written entries and Simone was able to snap a forbidden photo.

We also had a chance to visit an old cemetery where Eileen spent several hours walking amongst the gravestones, putting rocks on tombs with familiar-sounding names, and trying to take in the enormity of the experience. 

 Papanash: the diet killer

At the monastery

The following day Ovidiu took us on a sightseeing tour, where we had the opportunity to see some castles and the Painted Monastery, which was extraordinary. 

But equally as extraordinary was the dessert we had with the lunch--papanash, a classic Romanian dessert with enough sugar and cholesterol to send one's heart into paralysis. And, yes, it was delicious.

We ended our trip back in Bucharest--a city that certainly has potential but was a little rough around the edges. Strip joints were located on the same street as a gorgeous bookstore.

But perhaps most memorable was Bucharest's public art, which seemed to have been initiated with good intention but the execution left something to be desired. 

What's the cost of public "art"?

There is a monument to those who perished which had, unfortunately, been blasted with red paint. Rather than remove it, the government said that it was part of the statue, commemorating the bloodshed (or so our guide told us).

This gem, positioned on the steps of the National Museum of Romanian History, depicts Trajan and the She-Wolf. Trajan has his private parts exposed and there was an arm, tail, or some appendage jutting out of seemingly nowhere.

No, we didn't get it either.