Life in a Bessarabian Village - Societal Vices
by Alfred Opp
In our village of Teplitz, Besssarabia we lived a simple life. The
families had lived in the village for many generations and the
villagers were close to one another and lived in harmony. Our
ancestors came from many parts of central Europe and they brought
their customs and beliefs with them. Although religion was highly
respected by all, some followed God's rules closely in their manners
while others kept it a bit loose.
My grandma Opp was a serious lady who was conscientious about her
good manners. She also had a sense of humor. In her time, there was
a man who was often seen walking about town with a newspaper under
his arm. Most people thought David to be a show-off, and suspected
that he could not read. But any challenge to his knowledge was
unsuccessful in making him come up short, because he had his wits
about him and always came up with an answer. Many of the villagers
also were not fluent in reading, which made their testing of the man
all the more difficult, but a certain curiosity pushed them on. It
was a custom on weekend evenings that many of the villagers would
sit outside their houses to socialize or watch folks walk by. On one
such day, friend David came by Grandma Opp's place while she was
sitting outside. They greeted each other, and then Grandma asked the
man about what was new. He gave her some gossip and they talked a
bit. Then Grandma asked, What's in the paper? David sat down beside
her, and thinking my grandma probably couldn't read anyway, opened
the paper. He went through the motions of searching through the
paper, but my grandma noticed that the paper was upside-down! After
a minute or so, he remarked that the paper contained "nothing but
politics," folded up the paper and stalked away. Grandma had no idea
what "politics" was, but her curiosity was satisfied - she got her
answer.
Newspapers and tobacco smoking went hand in hand in Russia for
generations. Many of our ancestors enjoyed smoking when they came to
Russia. In the eyes of the church people this was considered
a device of the devil, and smoking in public was not
always tolerated. But many of the later generations were smokers. My
dad was a heavy smoker, whereas my grandfather only puffed one after
he entertained guests. Dad bought a pack of tobacco and cigarette
paper to roll his own. Grandpa smoked in grand style after dinner
with his guests. He had a silver tobacco box that had space for
tobacco, paper and two rollers on a rubberized liner that when set
up rolled a cigarette by opening and closing the box. It was quite
an invention.
A poor man bought his tobacco in a pouch and rolled his smoke in a
piece of newspaper. To light up, many people used matches if they
could afford them. The poor man used a hand-held three-piece flint
device made of a wick, a half-round iron striker, and the
flint-stone that gave up a spark when hit. The trick was to strike
and blow at the same time to get the wick in action. It took
practice to get it right, but I've seen people many times who got it
right. Newspapers in those days were not that common either, and the
ones that were around were in demand for many uses. A chunk of
newspaper was always a prized possession.
Men and boys often enjoyed a game of cards. My mother told me that
in the eyes of the village Elders, cards were a "Devil's game." My
dad played with friends for pocket change, but most of the young
people played purely to be a winner. No-one wanted to be a
Durak - a loser. Card games could end in an argument or
even in a fight. The church folk had harsh words for those who took
pleasure in card playing. A story went around that a man lost all
his land in one night playing cards. As young men, my grandfather
and his brothers played a friendly game one evening when one of his
brothers became upset and raised his voice because he lost. Their
mother heard the arguing, came in, grabbed the cards and took
them and burned them. Grandpa never played a hand of cards again.
Before WWI worldly singing and dancing was also looked on as sinful,
and not to be indulged in by those devoted to the Lord. Many young
folks would hang out on their own - in secret. Our ancestors never
shied away from a glass of wine or spirits, but some imbibed a bit
too much. There were people in our village who became alcoholics and
ruined their lives.The story is told that my great-grandfather H.
Opp was a hard worker. He also liked his wine so much that his wife
felt ashamed. One day he called for her to bring more wine to his
workbench. She obediently fetched the wine, but in doing so added a
dead frog to it. She thought that the sight of the frog would make
him sick. After filling his glass, Grandpa Opp spotted the frog,
grabbed it and tossed it out, remarking, "they get into everything!"
He never gave it another thought.
One time when the village was contending with an outbreak of
cholera, people became very scared and tried various means of
staying well. Many people ate lots of garlic. Special prayer
meetings to seek protection were well attended. Still people were
dying daily. Those who were sick needed someone to take care of
them, but nobody was willing to go near them for fear of catching
this contagious disease. The mayor came to the rescue by hiring four
people from the village to help out. These people were not experts
in first aid - they were drunks! The common wisdom felt that drunks
were resistant to disease. As it turned out, none of the four drunks
came down with cholera. They died later, of other causes.
Our people were good at putting a label on someone to make fun of
them. If someone's speech was odd, or they behaved strangely, or had
a different dialect or accent in their speech, they were called a
Kashub. As I understand it, a Kashub
was a breed between a
Schwabian and a
Prussian. The
Prussian side of the family spoke one way, and the
Schwabian side spoke another way. The two coming
together produced a very peculiar dialect that sounded quite funny.
When the later villages in the north of Bessarabia were settled,
people were assigned to them at random, producing quite a mix of
culture and speech. Similar things had happened in many villages,
but these people were labeled
Kashuba. The term spread until it became common to label
as a Kashub
anyone who handled himself oddly from the rest. All it
took was one individual who did or said what was not heard before to
put him at odds with the purists. I often heard my mom label someone
a Kashub,
even here in Canada. It was clear that the term had a sarcastic
meaning to her. The other day a guy cut me off in traffic. I turned
to my wife and remarked, "What a
Kashub!" Those of us who live here in America but
don't speak such good English could be labeled a Kashub.
Yet nobody laughs at us. It's time I realize that.
Alfred Opp
Edited by Connie Dahlke
_________________
Alfred Opp is the author of "Pawns on the World Stage" - the memoirs
of his childhood in Teplitz, Bessarabia and the experiences of his
family in war-torn Europe (Poland during 1941-1945 before they fled
to East Germany in 1945, then the reconstruction of West Germany
1945-1955).