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I met my husband, Israil Bercovici, two weeks after I came back from Transnistria. I was a clerk at the Mayor’s Office in Iasi and he was in Bucharest. I used to write him, but he didn’t; he’d rather come to Iasi than write back. Because I had nothing, he made me a blouse from one of his shirts by tearing off the sleeves. Even though he wasn’t a shoemaker, he made me a pair of sandals, too.
Location
Romania
Interview
Miriam Bercovici