Original subtitles

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[man] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[man] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[man] [whispers] [foreign language].

-[woman] A rabbi always pass through a village to get to the

forest, and there, at the foot of a tree -- and it was always

the same one -- he began to pray, and God heard him.

His son, too, always passed through the same village to get

to the forest, but he could not remember where the tree was.

So, he prayed at the foot of any old tree,

and God heard him.

His grandson did not know where the tree was,

nor the forest.

So he went to pray in the village,

and God heard him.

His great-grandson did not know where the tree was,

nor the forest, not even the village,

but he still knew the words of the prayer.

So, he prayed in his house, and God heard him.

His great-grandson did not know where the tree,

nor the forest, nor the village were.

Not even the words of the prayer.

But he still knew the story, so he told it to his children,

and God heard him.

My own story is full of missing links,

full of blanks.

And I do not even have a child.

-I loved him as no woman could ever love a man.

We did everything together.

We earned a good living together,

and each of my thoughts was only for him.

He was such a handsome and warm-hearted man.

If I wanted to, I could talk to him.

If I wanted to keep quiet, he respected my silence.

One day, quite suddenly, he died,

leaving me alone with our 13-year-old daughter.

My world fell apart.

I...

sat down on a chair, looking straight ahead.

My eyes were tearless.

I was senseless.

Only when it was night and dark could I cry.

I sat on a chair crying all night long.

But at daybreak, I had to get up to make breakfast for my

daughter.

I thought to myself, "At least I do not have to get dressed,"

as I never got undressed that whole night.

I thought of my mother, who had remained in Poland and from whom

I had no news in such a long time.

Were they all dead over there?

What was happening in my old land?

Terror gripped my heart but I managed to chase it away.

I said to myself that everything had been easier for her.

Her parents had married her off at the age of 16 to a man she

did not love without even asking her opinion.

She got used to him, to this man,

to my father.

When he died, life went on as before.

Anyway, so it seemed to me.

I was still a little girl.

My daughter and I had breakfast in the kitchen -- a little bread

and tea.

I thought to myself, "He is dead,

and here we go on, eating."

I felt like throwing myself out the window,

but I held myself back.

I thought, "He will never eat with us again,

ever.

He's lying, very peacefully, on a bed in the bedroom."

It was as if he had known he was going to die.

He had taken out a very heavy life insurance.

But what was I to do with all that money?

It was his way of saying to me...

"When I'm gone, life will go on.

You will have enough to live on.

America is a big and beautiful country.

You see, I have no abandoned you,

I am with you still."

We had lived through pogroms, hunger,

cold.

It was even said that today, in Europe,

people are being taken into slavery,

but so many things were said.

In the end, what we knew was this: we could live here without

being afraid, without creeping along the walls.

And then he had to die.

And everything was nothing.

When they came to take him away...

they put him in a coffin.

Then, I fainted.

Yosi, my husband's best friend, came to take us to the cemetery,

he brought me back to life with a-- a little cologne.

A touch at the temples, at the wrists.

My head felt as if it was going to burst,

and Yosi held me...

very tight, by the hands.

When they closed my husband's coffin,

I became hysterical to stop them from putting him into the grave,

and Yosi held me back forcefully from-- from the grave to calm me

down.

I think that I screamed.

I do not...

know how it happened, but on the way back from the cemetery,

on the way home...

Yosi and I were alone together.

Sarala, my daughter, must have been in another car.

I began crying again.

I had hoped so much that some miracle would happen,

something.

But now, he was buried.

What could ever happen?

Yosi did everything he could to comfort me.

He was such a nice boy, my husband's best friend,

a good friend.

He spoke to me softly, to comfort me.

He...

took me in his arms and whispered in my ear.

Then, as he spoke, he kissed me with...sweet kisses.

Very tender kisses, as one kisses a child.

I felt the tears running from his eyes.

He was crying too.

We were both crying.

Then, I felt his mouth meet mine,

and he kissed me the way a man kisses a woman.

And...I was so tired and confused that I let him kiss me.

And without even thinking of my own actions,

I kissed him back.

I was so exhausted.

I did not know where I was.

It was dark all around me.

I let myself continue to cry.

Again and again, he kissed me...

but I had no strength to resist.

He spoke to me.

He said many things, but I heard nothing.

They were words of love but I did not hear them.

I was...

unconscious in his arms, a living corpse.

When I got home, my daughter had already arrived.

She looked at me with big, questioning eyes.

I could not bear to look in those eyes,

but she stared at me.

And it was as if...she had guessed everything and was

asking me why.

Her stare pierced my soul but I had no reply.

But who has an answer anyway?

And what kind of woman had I become?

-Six months ago, I brought my fiance to this country from

Poland.

I tore her away from her family.

Her parents did not want her to leave.

For them, she was no longer among the living and they sat

shiva for her.

She had no one else left in the world but me.

I had to earn a living, so I shaved my beard...

and I cut my side curls and I closed my prayer books...

and I went out into the world.

And I said, "God will forgive me."

There was nothing else I could do.

I had to earn a living.

When I went to meet her at the boat,

she hardly recognized me...

without my beard and dressed like an American.

And we were married that same day.

There was no family...

but a few of my friends from work were present.

And I said to her, "We will build a family of our own.

And we will have our own children.

And later, they will have children who will have children

of their own."

Anyway, we could not stay over there.

That-- that was no life.

And then I told her that one day,

we would have enough money and we would bring over the rest of

the family.

And she listened to me silently.

Her face weighing and her eyes big.

And she smiled.

But I felt that she was not able to believe me and that she was

suffering.

I mean, everything was strange to her and upsetting.

I mean, this unknown language and these knew faces,

it all upset her.

Anyway, that next day, she fell ill.

And I had to go to work or I'd be fired.

My boss had already warned me.

And that night, when I returned to our unheated room,

things were not any better.

And the following day, they got worse.

I mean, she stayed in the bed, still being silent...

with her eyes looking up to the ceiling.

But she didn't cry and she didn't complain.

Fortunately, that following day was Saturday and I didn't have

to go to work.

So the doctor came.

And although he didn't know the cause of her illness,

he prescribed medicine.

So I had to go back to work.

I mean, how could I pay for the medicine if I didn't?

I mean, what, beg on the streets? [laughs]

Well, 'cause what kind of man is a beggar?

He's not a man.

By mid-day, I was so sick with worry that I ran home.

And when I opened the door, I heard this frightful voice.

Just wheezing and muttering.

And-- and I heard the voice of an old woman.

And I ran to my wife's side and she was delirious.

And I put my hand on her forehead and she was burning up.

I mean, she was going out of her mind and I was quickly going

mad.

So I went back to the door and I shut it.

And I went over to the stove...

and I turned on the gas.

And I went back to my wife beside the bed...

and I laid down next to her.

And I held her in my arms.

Just the two of us together.

'Cause if she was gonna die, she was not gonna die alone.

[sighs]

And I let myself slip into death at her side.

And I felt relief.

And then, suddenly, my wife, she cried out for air.

And-- and I heard her with what little strength I had left.

And I picked myself up out of the bed.

And not yet dead, I crawled over to the window and I opened it,

and I turned off the gas.

And I picked my wife up in my arms.

And I carried her over to the window where she breathed like

someone who had almost drowned.

And she began to feel better.

Her fever fell.

And the color came back into her face.

And she opened up her eyes.

And she was hungry.

She wanted to eat.

And she began to get better.

And I had almost killed her.

I-- I felt like a criminal.

And I had lost all hope and all the time,

this little bit of life was beating inside of her.

[sighs]

And the following day, she woke up singing.

And she sang as she made the breakfast,

and then she continued to sing as she moved around our home.

And a few days later, I found a good job in a shop...

with a boss who treated me like a son.

And he wanted me to become his partner.

And now, my wife is expecting a baby.

And I'm so happy.

I mean, we're alive and everything is well.

-Mister!

Tell me, before I go completely crazy in this country...

how did you manage to shave so fast?

-You know life?

Life is like a fountain.

-Why?

-So okay!

Life isn't like a fountain.

-Hello, Teitelbaum!

-Mandelbaum, drop dead.

-Come on, Titlebaum.

What's the matter with you?

I give you a polite "Hello" a-- and you tell me to drop dead!

Why?

-Why?

I tell you why.

Suppose I'd answered you politely,

"Hello."

Then, you're gonna ask me where I'm going.

Then, I'm gonna tell you I'm going to the Houston Street

steam bath.

Then, you're gonna tell me the Avenue A steam bath is better.

Then, you're gonna tell me that a man who prefers the Houston

Street steam bath to the Avenue A steam bath must have a hole in

his head.

So I holler that I man who prefers the Avenue A steam bath

to the Houston Street steam bath must be completely crazy.

So you call me a schmuck.

So I holler back, "What?!

A schmuck?!

Drop dead!"

Well, instead of going through that whole long hoo-ha,

I answered right away "Drop dead" and that ends it.

Goodbye.

-Hello, Aronberg!

-Hello, Milstein.

How are you?

How's the wife and children?

-Everyone's fine!

My wife is flourishing.

She's walking down the street like the queen of New York!

She just left for vacation in Florida.

And with a little help from God, she won't become sick this year.

My children are also doing well!

Eszter's going to marry a fine young man from Queens whom she

met at a friend's house, and Dalia is finishing high school.

Well, goodbye, Aronberg.

-As for me...

I'm not going very well, thank you.

[foreign language].

I began studying scientific books when I was very young.

My father didn't say anything, but he disapproved.

He believed my studies were separating me from God and he

was right.

I was constantly tormented by doubt.

As long as I was living with them at home,

I continued to go to synagogue and to attend yeshiva,

but I was constantly disturbed in classes with all sorts of

questions.

As soon as I came to this country, I became

a free-thinker.

My parents stayed behind and they're probably dead by now.

Here, I'm open to the world of ideas.

I have joined the Communist party,

I spend my life at meetings, my wife too.

We live in continual exultation.

We are going to change the world.

When others would arrive with dreadful news from Russia,

we listened, but we didn't believe them.

Eventually, we had children and we had less and less free time.

I had to work more, but still, we kept the same ideas.

Then, I began to feel something was missing from my life.

I became gloomy, nervous.

In time, I did not know why.

My wife was worried about me.

My children looked at me as if they were afraid of me.

I lost me appetite.

I didn't know what to do with myself.

When friends would come over and tell me of the latest strikes or

motions that had been voted on, the conversations left me with a

nasty taste in my mouth.

The faces of my parents invaded my mind.

My father, such a fine man, and my mother,

who would have never hurt a fly.

My mother kept a secret diary.

When I was little, I found it and I read her words.

"I can only confide in you, my diary,

because I am a woman."

My parents were stripped naked.

Like many others.

It wasn't so much their deaths that...

But their nakedness haunted.

And no one to say kaddish for them.

I was the only one left alive and I had not said kaddish for

them.

Moreover, who would say kaddish for me,

I wondered.

My children -- true Americans, good children -- knew nothing

about it.

And why would I, a free-thinker, have taught them

anything about it?

One day, by chance, I walked into a synagogue.

It was Yom Kippur and I didn't even know about it.

People were walking into the synagogue looking pale,

having fasted.

I was alone.

I watched as I started to follow them in,

and then, at the last moment, I remembered I was no longer a

believer.

I remembered that I even thought that this belief kept the world

in darkness.

I didn't go in, but I was unable to pull myself from the

synagogue walls.

A force greater than me held me there immobile.

Inside, they began to pray.

And from where I was standing steadfast,

I heard the melodies.

And suddenly, my heart became light.

The strain that had oppressed it for so long disappeared.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

For a good while after that, I felt better.

Then, a...iron hand gripped my heart again.

I felt fretful and depressed.

My wife didn't recognize me.

My children didn't want to see me.

I could no longer work.

Finally, I could bear it no longer,

and I ran into the synagogue and there,

among my own people, I felt appeased.

And without realizing it, my lips began to move.

At first, no words came out.

And then, out of my body came a voice.

I prayed.

And I'd forgotten nothing.

It was as if in one second, I had erased all those years in

America, where I thought I'd found my true self.

I was a man who knew the universe was formed by a big

bang.

I was a man who didn't believe that God had spoken to Moses.

I still don't believe this.

But there I was, praying and praying.

I prayed for my parents.

I prayed for all those who can never again pray.

I even prayed for myself.

And I understood each and every word of the prayers.

They brought me back to my childhood,

to another world of which nothing now remains.

I went home, saw my children happy and free as children who

have no past.

In a way, they seemed strange to me.

Not my own.

I told myself, "You've raised savages in this savage America."

I no longer knew who I was.

Was this man who was praying me?

Or was he my shadow?

Now, every night...

I wait impatiently for everyone to go to sleep.

And quietly, I get up, pick up the old Gemara,

and become engrossed in the Talmud.

A pure atheist like me finding happiness in the Talmud.

Can you imagine that?

Isn't that a real crazy story?

-[sighing] Oy.

-What's the matter?

My shoes are killing me.

-So why are you wearing them?

-Why?

Well...I am going to tell you why.

My business couldn't be worse.

I owe money to the butcher, to the...baker,

to the grocer, to the landlord.

I have two daughters.

So ugly.

Who knows if I am be able to marry them one day?

My son...is a real idiot.

And my wife nags and nags and nags until I go crazy.

Each night, when I come back from a fruitless day of work,

and I look at my bills, and I look at my family,

at that point, I could kill myself.

So...

I take off my shoes...

and mister...

this minute, when my shoes off my feet,

is such a mechayeh, it's only thing that make life worth

living, ah?

Oy. [sighs]

-Ahh.

[sings in foreign language]

-I had just turned 16 years old when I left my little hometown

in Poland.

It was heartbreaking to leave my mother and father,

but they said that horrible things were going to happen in

Europe, and they wanted at least their only daughter to survive.

I did not want to leave.

I preferred to die rather than to leave them.

My mother said that people do not die so young.

Before my departure, she told me,

without looking into my eyes, that a man would come to fetch

me at the boat and that I should say he was my fiance.

She said that otherwise, they wouldn't let me into the

country.

That is how Americans are.

She told me that over there in America,

I would never go hungry, never be afraid,

that I would live as in a dream.

At the age of 16, I left my home and my family and our town and

came to America.

Just as my mother said, a man came to fetch me at the boat.

I said he was my fiance, like my mother had told me to do.

Then, the officials asked me and that man to hold up two fingers,

and then we had to kiss each other.

I felt odd kissing a stranger.

At home, I did not have the right to look a man in the eyes.

After the kiss, they let me into the country.

The man took me to a store full of merchandise.

I had never seen so many things.

He told me that here, I had to wear different clothes,

so that he would not be ashamed of me.

He told me that I had to be modern,

that I should wear a dress with short sleeves.

I rather liked the clothes, but I was a little frightened.

I could hardly recognize myself, and I wondered what my mother

would have said.

After that, the man took me to a bedroom.

I immediately saw that someone lived there,

but the man said it would be my bedroom.

I noticed that the clothes in the room were men's clothes.

I said, "Whose clothes are they?"

He said, "Mine."

I said, "But where is your bedroom?"

He said, "Here.

This is my bedroom too."

Then I said that we could not stay in the same room,

that I could not stay in the same room as a man.

He said that he was not just any man but my husband,

that we are now married, but that I was to be his wife and

that I should behave like a wife.

He took me in his arms and I was so frightened that I almost

fainted.

Then, I fought him off with all my strength.

I had heard about what a man does to a woman and know that

that is what life is supposed to be like,

but I didn't feel I was married to this man.

Day and night, I fought him off.

But especially at night, when he wanted what a man wants from a

woman.

I decided to find a job to get money to run away.

I found work.

But now, he spies on me, comes to where I work all the time.

I think he understands that I want to run away.

What can I do?

Where can I go?

I am alone, I know no one here, and my parents are so far away.

I miss them so much and I am sure they did what they thought

was best for me.

There is no place in the world I can go.

What am I to say now?

-[sings in foreign language]

-Where's a kosher delicatessen?

Wh-- wh-- wh-- where's the synagogue?

And the-- the Jews, where are the Jews?

Guvalt!

[foreign language]!

Help!

Jews are being beaten!

Where?

Why knows where?

In Hungary?

Russia, maybe?

I only wanted to know if anybody here gives a damn.

[laughs]

-Listen.

Let's walk on the other sidewalk,

okay?

-Why?

-Well, they are two and we-- we are alone.

-When I first got married, my wife was so shy,

so humble, so gentle.

Never would she raise her voice against anyone.

She did everything she could to help me in the store.

We worked hard together.

When we had children, she stayed at home with them and took care

of them with love and patience.

Each day, I thanked God for giving me such a good life.

One year ago, we rented one of our rooms to a young man.

Then, our home life changed.

I noticed that my wife began to neglect the children.

At night, dinner was not ready when I came from work.

And she began to go to the theater,

to the cafes with him.

And she decided to be an artist.

Of all things, an artist?

Then, they both joined the Communists and accused me of

being a capitalist, of oppressing the poor.

But...

I was poor myself, so how could I oppress the poor?

Then, the neighbors began to make insinuations.

They said this...man and my wife were having a...affair behind my

back, but I could not believe them.

Not me, her husband...

the man who loved her.

But I knew her true nature, and I know that could not be true.

Not her, not my wife.

And if becoming an artist would make her happy,

then an artist she should be.

And if becoming a Communist is what she wanted,

then let her be one, so long as she loves me.

But one day I...

I saw them kissing in the street.

My heart stopped beating.

I had to lean against a building to keep from falling down.

I couldn't believe it.

When I returned home, all of her things were gone.

So were the young man's.

The children were alone and playing,

laughing, unawares of all that was going on.

I did not know what to do.

I don't want to go on living, but the children need a mother

so I'm going to go and look for her and look for her until I

find her.

And she will love me again.

She will love me again.

I will forgive her.

And we will be happy.

Everything will be as it was.

It has to be.

-♪Do you remember sweet Betsy from Pike♪

♪Who crossed the white mountains with her brother Ike?♪

♪She crossed and she went and then something so♪

♪And she went and she went and she [inaudible] something more♪

♪Dada da da dada da dada da dadum♪

Harry, why do you always go outside when I start to sing?

You know how it hurts my feelings.

-What do you want me to do?

Stay inside and have the neighbors think I'm beating you?

-What are you doing here?

-I'm waiting.

-What are you waiting for?

There's nothing to wait for in this world.

-Are you dancing?

-Are you asking?

-I'm asking.

-I'm dancing.

-When we arrived in America more than 12 years ago,

I thought we would never survive.

I had two little children then, and my husband couldn't feed

them.

He looked all over town, everywhere,

to find work.

Sometimes, he was hired for a day or two.

But there was never enough money to pay for our room and food.

The children became so thin you could see their bones.

They looked at me with their big,

hungry eyes.

They didn't dare to ask for anything.

They didn't dare to cry.

They clung close to my body to get a little warmth.

And one day, the landlord came and he demanded to be paid the

rent that very evening, otherwise,

he was gonna throw us out.

My husband ran all over town to find the four dollars that we

owed him.

But all his friends were as poor as we were.

That evening, he came home completely defeated,

having found not a single dollar.

Seeing his distress, I held back my tears,

I packed our backs, and I took the two children in my arms and

I went out in the street.

And I sat down on the sidewalk.

People passing by threw us coins.

Neither I nor my husband picked them up.

And then, an elegant lady stopped in front of us and she

asked a few questions.

She treated us like human beings and she kissed the children as

if they were hers.

And when she found out what had happened to us,

she took us to her home.

There, she gave us something to eat.

And then, she went out to buy warm clothes and some nice toys

for the children.

She would have done anything for us.

Her husband gave my husband $50 and promised him a job.

The lady was so happy.

She kissed, she hugged the children all the time.

Overwhelmed, her husband told us,

"You have brought happiness into our house."

I didn't understand, but I offered no resistance.

I was relieved, a little worried,

but the warmth of our new friends set my mind at ease.

And the following day, we rented a room,

we began a new life.

A few months later, with the help of our generous friends,

my husband opened a business that prospered,

and soon, we were a happy family.

Not a day goes by now without us seeing our benefactors.

We've lived on the same street together for several years,

and for us, they're more than family.

Now, I'm the mother of six children,

three boys, three girls, each one more beautiful and more

intelligent than the other.

They study well at school, they're good children,

we're proud of them.

What more can a mother ask for?

My husband does a good business.

And the hell of our earlier years has long been forgotten.

But recently...

something dreadful happened that troubles me a great deal.

Our friends, who saved our lives,

have no children.

They're well-off, they get along with each other.

However, they have one great sorrow:

they're desperate to have children and they cannot.

And they're so attached to our children.

Last week, Ellen, our friend, came to pour her heart out to

me, sobbing.

She told me she no longer enjoyed anything and that her

life was empty and joyless.

I did what I could to comfort her.

I told her she shouldn't despair,

that at her age, she could still have children.

And then, she burst out sobbing and she said she knew that that

was not possible.

And that only I in all the world could help her.

I told her of course, I would do anything to help her.

And then she told me...

that she wanted me to give her...my youngest child.

Not even two years old.

And when I heard these words, I felt the blood leave my body.

I almost fainted.

I said I had to speak to my husband about it.

But she cries and she begs to have this child that she loves

more than anything else in the world.

But he's my child.

And nothing in the world, not even gold,

could replace him.

Her husband tries to reason with her.

He's more affectionate to her than ever.

But it doesn't help.

And I have the impression that if this goes on,

she'll go crazy and I will too.

I'm afraid that this will end in tragedy.

-Listen, Finkelstein.

I am really happy to run into you.

Maybe you can give me a little bit of advice.

You are a wise man and everything you do,

you do well.

-With pleasure, but, uh, what's the matter,

Bernstein?

-I don't know what I have to do.

Poorer than myself, you will not find.

I have one room -- one single room -- where we are living

eight of us together -- me, my wife,

and my six children.

And every year, my wife brings a new baby into the world.

They are beautiful babies, but I,

myself, do not know what to do and feed them.

What do I have to do?

I don't know anymore what to do.

-Do nothing.

-"Goodbye forever," my brother said to me when I left Poland.

He was only eight years old and my mother did not want him to

leave with us.

I said, "Why forever?"

He told me he felt we would never see each other again.

I told him that at his age, he was too little to feel that kind

of thing.

And then he turned his head away.

At that moment, I became frightened that he might be

right.

But my father and I left anyway.

As soon as we would get enough money,

we thought we would bring over my mother and brother.

Here, my father worked day and night.

During the day, he was door-to-door salesman,

and at night, he cut out and tailored suits.

But still, we never had enough money.

My father grew so then that he scared me.

And then, after all our struggles,

he fell ill and died, and I was left alone and wanted to die

too.

But our neighbor came to get me.

She said I was going to live with her.

You did not leave a 14-year-old girl alone in a house.

And then, a few months later, I learned that my mother and

brother had died too.

I did not even cry, I was so numb.

And anyway, it was as if they had all died a long time ago and

me too.

And then, one day in the street, a few feet away from me,

I saw him.

It was me brother!

He had grown up so, but it was really my brother!

And I wanted to cry out "Isaac!"

But the words would not come out of my mouth.

And I wanted to run toward him but my legs could not move.

Then, he turned the corner.

Only then did my legs take off on their own,

but when I got to the street, he was gone.

I ran around the block.

I ran and ran until nightfall, but I did not find him.

Then, I put ads in all the newspapers trying to find him

and my mother.

People even answered the ads, but it was not them.

Now, every day, I go back to that street where I saw him and

I wait.

That is all there is left for me to do,

to wait from morning until night.

Everyone tells me that I'm mad, that I had a hallucination and

that sometimes, this happens when you want something very

much.

Someone even once told me -- a survivor -- that he saw my

brother enter that place from which there is no way out.

He told me that is what they did with the children,

and he said that my mother was far too weak to have survived

that hell.

But I know!

I saw my brother with my own eyes!

It was really him!

-Do you know that God said that one cannot go out with a married

woman?

-First of all, how can you be sure that she's really married?

If she wasn't married by the rabbi,

but only by the mayor, I don't know if God would consider...

she's really married.

-Maybe not.

But in that case, would she have the right to have sexual

relations with her husband?

-If her husband is her husband, yes,

especially if she's not married with another man.

-But if God doesn't consider that she's really married with

her husband, maybe then God would accept that I have sexual

relations with her.

-You?

Certainly not.

-And why not?

-Because you're a married man.

-But not by the rabbi.

-Then you are not a married man.

-So?

-So you'd better get married, because it's a sin for a Jew not

to be married.

-But I am married.

-Then why do you ask all these questions?

-You know what?

Even a married man has the right to ask questions.

-I'm looking for a room to rent.

-Come.

Enter, please.

Who knows what'll happen tomorrow?

Maybe we'll all be dead.

-We can die even in the next minute.

-I'm as alone...as a stone.

And I'll never be in love again.

-I wonder what God thinks of all this.

-Let him think what he wants.

Anyhow, he doesn't know us anymore.

-But we don't know him anymore either.

-I would like to tell my sufferings to the world.

-But the world doesn't care.

-But then who cares?

-[man] Yaso!

Yaso, how are you?

-Well, I'm good.

Everything's good.

-Really?

But I heard you had a terrible year.

So then how can everything be so good?

-But everything is going well!

Every morning, I'm good and depressed.

Every night, I'm good and tired.

In the summer, I'm good and too hot.

In the winter, I'm good and cold.

There's so many holes in my roof,

I'm good and soaked.

My floor is so shaky, when I take five steps,

I'm good and mad.

My children are so lazy, I'm good and disgusted with them.

My wife talks so loud that I'm good and sick of her.

In fact, all is going so well in my life.

It's just that I'm good and tired of living.

-Well, good.

So enjoy it.

[laughs]

-I'm enjoying it.

I'm enjoying it.

-I was born in a little village in Poland,

and I lived there very happily until the age of 13.

My parents did everything to give me a good education.

Then, a pogrom broke out, and they were the first victims of

the blood bath.

They burned our houses, destroyed the synagogue,

spared no one, and no one is left for me.

But that was not enough for these murderers.

When they found me, I was the last living person in the

village they burned to the ground.

I begged them to kill me, but they did not.

Instead, they stripped me of my honor and left me there to

suffer and cry.

I lost my memory.

I do not remember anything very well,

only that smell of burning.

And me lying somewhere in the corner of that village,

silent and in ruins.

Then, some people from the neighboring village came and

they took me with them.

They took care of me, but they could never heal me.

Then, my family from America sent for me,

but I feel like a stranger here, neither dead nor alive.

And they have stopped caring about me.

Here, I feel lonely as a stone.

A few months ago, I met a man.

A nice, sensitive man.

I loved him right away and he loved me too.

But how can I, a dishonored woman,

marry him?

Now, he has asked me to marry him.

And I asked for a little time before I give him an answer.

I even tried to discourage him, but he does not want to hear of

it.

He urges me everyday to give him an answer.

And his heart is heavy because of my silence.

When he comes, I say nothing, and when he leaves,

I burn with desire to have him come back.

I want to tell him everything.

This secret leaves me restless.

It troubles me night and day.

I do not want to hide anything from him.

If only he were to find out everything and then make his own

choice.

One day, I will find the strength to tell him.

I hope it will not be too late.

-My heart is broken into a thousand pieces.

I cannot sleep, I hardly eat.

Here is why.

I love two men.

Have you ever heard of such a thing?

But in this country, everything is possible and nothing holds us

back.

I'm one of those immigrants who works in a store and,

as I'm already 18 years old, I'm starting to earn a good living

and my boss likes me.

Sometimes, I think he likes me too much,

but I try not to notice because he's a married man and he has

three beautiful children.

I've never really seen, in true life,

the first man I love.

I first started loving him when he sent me a picture of himself.

A nice face with such gentle eyes that look very much like my

father's eyes.

He is a part of our family and he lives in Chicago.

My parents want me to marry him, so we started to write letters

to each other and the letters got longer and longer.

He writes very well.

And in his own honest words, I can feel what kind of man he is.

And certain letters are very poetic and full of passion and

feelings.

And I like that.

And he earns a good living, so if I marry him,

I will not have to work.

Three months ago, a man came to buy the store where I work.

He came by several times.

And then I realized that he kept coming back to see me.

And we started to go out together.

And at first, I thought he was a Jew.

And before I discovered that he was not,

I fell in love with him.

And now, he wants to marry me.

[sighs]

I love him.

But I also love the other man in Chicago.

I feel I'm a part of this new world when I'm with him but it

frightens me that he is not a Jew...

even though I am a progressive person.

But with the other man, it is completely different.

Each word he writes me warms my heart and...

and sounds so familiar.

It is like a part of the old country that I left behind me

over there and...that I miss every day.

Inside me...

I feel that I'm not so different from the girl I was in Poland,

even though everything here is different.

I feel so lost.

H-- how can I choose?

Sometimes, I wonder if there isn't something wrong with me.

-Where are you going?

-Washington.

-Why are you lying to me?

-But I'm not lying to you.

What makes you say I'm lying to you?

-You tell me that you are going to Washington to let me believe

that you're going to Philadelphia...

when you are really going to Washington.

-Where do you get your money from?

-I take it from my night table.

-But who puts the money in your night table.

-My wife.

-But who gives the money to your wife?

-I do.

-But where do you get your money from?

-From my night table.

-But who puts the money in your night table?

-My wife.

-But who gives the money to your wife?

-I do.

-But where do you get your money from?

-From my night table.

-But who puts the money in your night table?

-My wife.

-But who gives the money to your wife?

-I do.

-[man] [singing in foreign language]

-Give me the borscht.

-Take my advice, have the chicken soup.

-I'd like the pea soup.

-If you'd like the pea soup, take my advice,

have the barley.

-But with the bone?

-[inaudible] busy.

-How is this possible?

Hardly this morning, you came to see me and you told me "My wife

and children are sick, and I don't have the money to pay for

the hospital.

And all my windows are broken.

That's how it is how they got sick.

And I don't have the money for the window repairman,

and if I don't pay my rent, they're going to throw me out,

and that won't be good for the health of my family."

And now...

I find you sitting here, like a king.

Doing what?

You're eating a filet of salmon with mayonnaise.

And that is the only way you found to spend my money?

Aren't you ashamed of yourself?

-Ashamed?

Even a poor man has a right to sit.

And as regards to the salmon a la mayonnaise,

without the money, it is impossible to eat one.

And now that I've found some money,

I can't eat the salmon either?

So tell me, when can I eat it?

-So...

when, then?

So, when, then?

-Sir?

Do you know whether to shit is a physical or an intellectual act?

-Intellectual, of course.

-Intellectual?

Why?

-Because...

if it was physical, we would hire someone to do it in our

place.

What's bothering you?

-Nothing, nothing.

-Don't be so discreet.

Tell me.

What's bothering you?

-Okay, I'm gonna tell you.

For days and days, I've been wondering...

what's the difference between a psychotic and a neurotic?

-Ah.

The difference between a psychotic and a neurotic.

Well...

I'm going to tell you.

-Really?

-Yes.

Well...

a psychotic, he thinks that two and two...

make five.

A neurotic, he knows that two and two make four,

but...

he can't stand it.

-But me, I think two and two make five,

and I still can't stand it.

[sighs]

In the Torah, it is written:

"Thou shalt not lie down with another man for it is

a damnable thing.

And thou shall not lie down with a sheep or you will be unclean

for a week."

-This chicken soup is really the best I've ever tasted in all my

life.

-[inaudible]!

-So why didn't you recommend the chicken soup to me?

-Because you didn't ask for the borscht.

-[man] Waiter!

Waiter!

Waiter, my cake!

Listen, I changed my mind.

Bring me a schnapps instead.

Ahh.

-You owe me for the schnapps.

-But I gave you a cake in exchange!

-You didn't pay for the cake!

-But I didn't eat it!

-[woman] Waiter!

-[man] Waiter!

-Me, I would like a glass of tea.

-Me too.

A tea.

And in a clean glass, please.

-Waiter!

Taste this soup.

-30 years, you've been eating the same soup.

Have I ever served you a bad soup?

-Waiter, taste the soup.

-What's the matter with you, [inaudible]?

You got problems?

The business?

Your wife, maybe?

The children?

I always thought that David was a terrible tramp,

and that one day or another, he'd make trouble for you.

I'm not saying that he'll end up in jail or he'll take up

with...wayward women but, uh, make enough trouble for you so

you won't be able to sleep nights.

So you won't let your wife sleep either,

which means she won't be able to help you in the store.

So the store will have to close because she is the business

woman and not you.

And then, you won't be able to pay for Josie's studies anymore,

and he'll have a nervous breakdown,

and then--

-Waiter!

Taste the soup!

-All right, all right, already.

I'll taste your soup.

Where's the spoon?

-Aha!

-Waiter!

-Who was the one who wanted a clean glass?

-It was me.

Listen to me.

You, that make out so well with women.

You must have a trick.

How do you do it?

How do you have to talk to them?

-Well, I will tell you my secret.

Jewish girls like three topics of conversation in particular:

food, family...

philosophy.

That's all you have to remember.

Now, to ask a girl what she wants to eat makes her feel

important.

To ask her questions about her family shows that you have

honorable intentions.

And to discuss philosophy, that is the most important of all.

That shows you have respect for her intelligence.

-Food...

family...

and philosophy!

Hello.

Do you like noodles?

-No.

-Do you have a brother?

-No.

-But if you had a brother, he would like noodles.

-Take the umbrella!

Take the umbrella!

It's going to rain!

I feel it!

-I don't feel it.

-[crying]

-So you, too, are in the schmata business.

-So it is my death you want.

-Our children are ashamed of us because we speak Yiddish.

They all went to the university, even our daughter,

and we're proud of them.

They've become doctors and professors.

Who could ask for more?

But...

we have brought up strangers in this world.

My daughter, my only daughter has dyed her hair strawberry

blonde.

My heart aches.

Am I wrong to want to speak Yiddish?

Should I, too, dye my hair blonde to please my children?

-I am leaving.

I am leaving.

I am going back to Warsaw.

To survive here, you have to have a heart of stone!

Moishe...

lend me some money.

-I can't.

-But-- but you're rich!

-That's why.

-[laughs]

What do you see, huh?

-People.

-What do you see...now?

-Myself.

-Ah!

You see what a little silver can do,

huh?

Before, you saw people.

Now, you only see yourself.

Ah...

I'm leaving.

I'm going back to Warsaw.

-He's a dead man.

[laughs]

-[inaudible], you put this scarf on!

It is cold outside!

-No.

No scarf.

-Excuse me.

Are you Jewish?

-No, not at all.

-Your father was Jewish.

-No, not at all.

-Your mother, maybe?

-No.

-Perhaps your grandparents were Jewish.

-No.

-Your great-grandparents.

-[sighs] My great-grandparents were Jewish, and they died in a

pogrom.

My grandparents were Jewish, and they starved to death.

My parents were Jewish, and they died at Auschwitz.

And I am a Jew, and for the moment,

I'm doing very well, thank you.

-Well, well, well.

That's very strange.

You don't look Jewish.

-[inaudible]!

It has been so long!

Oh, I am so glad to hear you.

But tell me, how are you?

Fine?

[laughs] Oh, I understand, you have people over.

I will call you back later.

-Max, I beg you, put the scarf on!

It is cold outside!

-Good.

Now, tell me, is it warm outside?

-[laughs]

-In a few days, I will no longer be among the living.

I have chosen the 24th of June to end my life because it is the

day that my parents disappeared from this world,

and with them, so many others.

It is the day that they died and it is the day that I shall die.

Why?

Look at me.

I'm young, I'm full of strength, but inside of me,

there's only ashes.

My body is meant to bring others into life but it won't.

My hands are meant to work and caress,

but they tremble as if they weren't mine.

When I look into the mirror, I see this healthy man as if

nothing had happened, and I feel horrified.

This can't be me.

When I eat any meat, I feel only blood.

And when I breathe, I feel the odor of murder and death.

When I walk, it's as if I'm stumbling over corpses.

I don't want to breathe anymore and I won't.

Why should I survive when everyone else has died?

Why must I stay alive to remember?

-Listen, Sarala, things can't go on like this.

You've got to get married.

When I die, who will take care of you when you get sick if

you're not married?

Look at that young man.

What a magnificent young man!

-But Dad, he's going to commit suicide.

-Suicide or no suicide, as long as you like him.

-I have an answer.

I have an answer!

Does anyone have a question?

-[all] I do!

-[singing in foreign language]

-[man] Waiter, waiter!

-[singing in foreign language]

-[men] Waiter!

-[singing in foreign language]

-[woman] Waiter!

-[singing in foreign language]

Oh, what a beautiful night!

-What a beautiful night tonight.

-What's so beautiful about this night?

-I don't see anything beautiful.

-See or not see, as long as you hear.

-Are you hearing your thoughts?

-I have no thoughts.

-Neither do I.

I have a green card, a gold card,

a platinum card, and a union card.

-But you still have emphysema.

-I take my pills, but I still have the high blood pressure.

-What pressure?

There's no pressure here.

-I thought you were dead.

Somebody even told me they knocked you down and-- and you

wouldn't get up again but, uh, coming from you,

it didn't surprise me.

"As lazy as ever," I said to myself.

I was very upset.

I-- I-- I even said kaddish for you.

-But maybe I am dead.

-Who knows, but, uh, then if you're dead,

maybe I'm dead, too.

-And both of us are ghosts.

-Ghosts.

But, uh, from where?

-That I don't know and I certainly do not want to go back

there.

-Tell me, how's your cousin doing?

-A lot better.

The doctor said he could leave the psychiatric home.

-Is that where he was?

-Yes, he thought he was a grain of corn.

But things are going better.

-So, uh, where is he now?

-Up in a tree.

And if you want my opinion, I think he's better there.

-But why?

And, uh...what's he doing up in a tree?

-Well-- [sighs] now that he is cured,

he knows that he is not a grain of corn but a man.

But who can know what the hens think?

-Who knows what hens think?

-[men] Who knows?

-[foreign language].

-Sing me something before I die.

-[sings in foreign language]

[foreign language]

What a beautiful night this is!

What a night.

Lovely.

Just beautiful.

Beautiful stars.

And the moon!

Oh...

Just for living, just for living.

-Which way...is to Thornton Street?

-You, uh-- you-- you follow this street,

you go straight head.

You keep straight ahead, then you make a left.

No, uh, rather, a right.

No, no, it's-- n-- neither a left nor a right.

Um...

you come back 50 meters...

then, you go kitty-corner a little, and you'll pass

Yankel's.

You should ask her!

She knows all about geography and she knows all the names of

the stars in the sky.

-Speaking about Yankel, I think I understood.

If he is outside, it's-- it is because he doesn't like to be

inside...

perhaps because he doesn't love his wife anymore.

Probably just happened to him one day,

just like that, to stop loving her.

And how ever, he did not love her a lot.

Now, he has no more strength.

It is perhaps a question of age, perhaps not.

But that is the way it is.

And-- and if he looks at the ground,

it is...perhaps because he doesn't want to look at the sky

anymore, and surely not in front of him,

because what is in front of him, he knows all too well.

-But tell me!

Why do you have to go there?

What's so good about Stanton Street compared to Fulton?!

Or Orchard Street, for example?

-[laughs] I-- I don't know.

-But I know.

I am going to tell you the way to Stanton Street.

You're going to walk steadily for two kilometers that way.

Then, you-- you walk back 10 meters and you go around my

brother-in-law's garage.

Don't ask him anything because he is so hopeless that he'll

hold you up for hours talking to you.

What does a man have to talk so much for?

And talking never did make hopelessness any better.

Huh?

When you-- when you go around the garage,

in the distance, you'll see a newspaper man.

He doesn't like to sell today's paper,

only yesterday's.

Because for him, the past is always better than the present,

and the present is there anyway,

so why sell it?

Once you have gone by the newspaper man,

well, take a left.

No.

Take...

an...

Well, I don't know anymore.

Um...

you should ask Moishe.

He at least knows how to explain things.

Moishe!

Moishe, come over her.

-No, no, no, no.

Ask Sarah!

Sarah...

Women are more precise.

Besides, they know the roads.

Besides, Sarah has been hanging out day and night.

I-- I don't know how long, I don't know why.

"Not for love," she says.

Sarah!

-Sarah, the way to Stanton Street.

-Oh, it's easy!

-Look, you see that building over there?

The one sticking out?

Well, you go in that direction.

Above all, don't take your eyes off that building.

Then, when you no longer see it, you turn.

No.

Do you turn to the left or to the right?

-W-- W-- what does it mean, do you turn to the left or to the

right?

-What is important is to turn.

Then, you will come to a square.

-No, no.

Not a square.

To an intersection!

And there, you go past the red light,

and s-- a second--

-A third.

Then, you go down the stairs.

No...

-No, you go up the stairs.

Then, at the top, you--

-No, at the top, you go down the stairs and you pass by the

garbage cans and you continue ahead a few steps.

No...

-And th-- and then, you stop to think it's better in these

cases.

Then, you go on a steep road.

Then left, and then-- then right,

then-- then right, uh...

No, no, uh...

-There is no way to get to Stanton Street.

-Good, uh...

[laughs] then I better say here.

[laughs]

Ahh.

One day...

in Moscow or in-- in Warsaw, as you like,

there is a man waiting in line in front of a...butcher.

He's been waiting in the middle of hundreds of others...

for hours!

When his turn comes up, he asks the butcher,

"I would like to have a fillet of beef."

The butcher looks at him stupefied and responds,

"Fillet of beef?!

No, mister.

We don't have that."

"Well, then, uh...

[laughs] I-- I would like to have the lamb cutlets."

But the butcher looks at him more and more shocked.

"But no, mister!

We don't have lamb cutlets!"

"Well, then...

[laughs] veal cutlets!"

"No, mister, certainly not.

We don't have veal cutlets."

[laughs] "If not veal cutlets, then...

maybe...veal...roast?

Huh?"

"But mister...why don't you ask me for something we do have?!"

"Well...then, uh...

give me simply...

the breast of duck."

The butcher responds, "There isn't any."

"Ah..."

And the man leaves.

And the butcher says...

"What a fool.

But how he remembers...

Hah!

How he remembers!"

[laughs]

[grunting]