A Sephardi Life in Southeastern Europe. Aron Rodrigue

      3/ Constantinople (1877–1878)

      My uncle Nahim had been in the Turkish capital since at least 1874. He opened a bank there with his partner, M. Baruch Cohen. Everything was thus set up to receive us. We moved into a house on Yazidji Street in Pera.¹ I wondered what would be done with me: I was not long in finding out. The role of a servant charged with running errands was destined for me. My instincts warned me that if I did not seek my own way, outside the protection of my uncles, I was lost. Without telling anyone, I went to Balat, where my former teacher M. Nissim Béhar was living, and informed him of my situation.

      M. Nissim knew the affection that his wife, who had died the previous year, had had for me and how happy she would have been to welcome me, since she had called for me so insistently. He immediately proposed that I come stay with him and sent me to get my bedding. I returned to Galata² and presented myself to my grandmother to inform her of my resolution. She was greatly annoyed, but my resolution was made and I left.

      On this matter, let me say that my maternal grandmother was always a stranger to us. She never showed the slightest affection and I doubt she ever loved anyone, even her own sons. As for me, I never received an embrace or a loving word from her. Later, she even broke off ties with my mother for refusing to pass on an offer for me to marry a cousin with a birthmark.

      The stay in Balat was a fruitful period for me. I worked relentlessly, day and night. I belonged to the first class, which had no program properly speaking. We did what we liked and taught one another in tacit freedom. Here we were a little club of amateur students. Chatting took up as much of our time as study. This system has some advantages and many disadvantages. The greatest disadvantage of all was that I, who had remained completely innocent until then, was now present at exchanges that were less than edifying. My comrades showed me obscene books, the likes of which I have never seen since. The consequences of these unhealthy excitations can be guessed.

      At the end of the school year, I was nominated for the Ecole Orientale,³ along with my friend Joseph Nar. Only he was admitted. But on the advice of M. Nissim, I left for Paris with my friends from Constantinople: Alphandary, Chéni, Haym, and Nar. M. Nissim himself was going to Paris. My uncle Nahim was kind enough to lend me twenty Turkish pounds for the trip.

      We arrived in Paris on 18 September 1878, the eve of Rosch-Haschana.⁴ My friends went to 4 bis, rue des Rosiers, where the school was located, and I headed for a hotel at 12, rue Mazagran. M. Nissim went to live at 4, rue du Plâtre. Since my purse was almost empty, I quickly moved, renting a room on rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine for eighteen francs a month.