Elsa - a political refugee in India
(Kolkata, around Jan. 1996) (scan of an old print of a slide) – Opening these last days my dusty albums with old photos from my travels, I had a surge of emotions remembering Elsa Armhem, a refugee who had been living in Calcutta since 1936 and who passed away there, some time around 2001 or 2002. A very special lady, who spent about 65 years of her life in India.
This is a photo that I took early morning during the winter in 1996, when she was sitting in front of me inside the popular « Khalsa » for an early breakfast (a small, very simple Sikh eatery, who was so kind with her and gave her lots of credit).
As a Jew, she had had to flee Nazi Germany with her family ; her 2 sisters had married in India and lived in the suburbs, but she had very little contact with them ; she eventually found a husband too, but much later : she married when she was 60, with a « young man » of about 40, coming from an old Jewish Baghdadi family, who was still in charge of a nearby synagogue some years ago.
Despite having left since so long her native country where she never had the chance to return, she always announced proudly : « I am from Germany », and she received regularly a small pension from the German government. Still, I think she could not manage her money and she was at the end of her life almost a destitute, the couple living for free in a Sikh charity home, on Chowringhee lane.
I had noted carefully her date of birth : Nov. 18, 1902 : she loved to get for her birthday greeting cards, even more, postcards, specially from Europe. She was very proud of her age, but in her nineties, she had some problems counting the years passing, and seemed to have sticked permanently to the respectable age of 92.
In her nineties, she lost a bit of her balance and her memory, also her head, and appeared to outsiders as a sort of tramp in the neighbourhood of Sudder Street. Kids were laughing at her, but she did not care, sometimes she joked with them, and she always smiled.
She could not remember my name, forgot me from one year to the other but could remember my face from one day to the next ; sometimes, after breakfast, we would walk hand in hand to the nearby market to buy some fruits and other food. Her hands were extremely soft but always so very cold !!
Then her last years were sad, often in bed, I paid sometimes visits, also with friends (she liked a lot these « young men », who looked as much surprised as she was during these encounters), and more and more, she needed – and received – care, attention and patience, from her husband and the staff of the home.
I thought that with her witty smile and the sparks in her eyes, she could have her place in this gallery :
***let’s not forget all the refugees in the world, specially the ones who have been such a long time away from home…***
(Next photo : a "photo souvenir" of her husband and her : they wanted to remember the occasion when we went to the cinema together :)
Elsa - a political refugee in India
(Kolkata, around Jan. 1996) (scan of an old print of a slide) – Opening these last days my dusty albums with old photos from my travels, I had a surge of emotions remembering Elsa Armhem, a refugee who had been living in Calcutta since 1936 and who passed away there, some time around 2001 or 2002. A very special lady, who spent about 65 years of her life in India.
This is a photo that I took early morning during the winter in 1996, when she was sitting in front of me inside the popular « Khalsa » for an early breakfast (a small, very simple Sikh eatery, who was so kind with her and gave her lots of credit).
As a Jew, she had had to flee Nazi Germany with her family ; her 2 sisters had married in India and lived in the suburbs, but she had very little contact with them ; she eventually found a husband too, but much later : she married when she was 60, with a « young man » of about 40, coming from an old Jewish Baghdadi family, who was still in charge of a nearby synagogue some years ago.
Despite having left since so long her native country where she never had the chance to return, she always announced proudly : « I am from Germany », and she received regularly a small pension from the German government. Still, I think she could not manage her money and she was at the end of her life almost a destitute, the couple living for free in a Sikh charity home, on Chowringhee lane.
I had noted carefully her date of birth : Nov. 18, 1902 : she loved to get for her birthday greeting cards, even more, postcards, specially from Europe. She was very proud of her age, but in her nineties, she had some problems counting the years passing, and seemed to have sticked permanently to the respectable age of 92.
In her nineties, she lost a bit of her balance and her memory, also her head, and appeared to outsiders as a sort of tramp in the neighbourhood of Sudder Street. Kids were laughing at her, but she did not care, sometimes she joked with them, and she always smiled.
She could not remember my name, forgot me from one year to the other but could remember my face from one day to the next ; sometimes, after breakfast, we would walk hand in hand to the nearby market to buy some fruits and other food. Her hands were extremely soft but always so very cold !!
Then her last years were sad, often in bed, I paid sometimes visits, also with friends (she liked a lot these « young men », who looked as much surprised as she was during these encounters), and more and more, she needed – and received – care, attention and patience, from her husband and the staff of the home.
I thought that with her witty smile and the sparks in her eyes, she could have her place in this gallery :
***let’s not forget all the refugees in the world, specially the ones who have been such a long time away from home…***
(Next photo : a "photo souvenir" of her husband and her : they wanted to remember the occasion when we went to the cinema together :)