This article appeared in the Dec. 20, 2017 issue of the Interlake Enterprise…
“I was born between two rivers that flowed into the Red Sea in a place called Tarotino,” said 92-year-old Alma Belousow of Gimli, as she motioned to a plate of Christmas cookies she has baked herself.
“Would you like one,” she offered hospitably.
Belousow told of being born in a German province of Romania, in an a region since taken over by Russia and subsequently resettled by Ukrainians. She talked about life there, the trials during war time and the work camps, juxtaposed by memories of better times.
“The climate, you could compare it to British Columbia. It had vineyards and fruit—melons as far as your eye can see. It was a beautiful, beautiful piece of earth,” she remembered fondly.
While some of the landscape might share similarities to parts of Canada, Christmas certainly had marked differences. Firstly, the Romanian Santa was not at all like the North American version. In the old country he was called “Weinachtsmann”. Belousow remembers how the children were afraid of him, “but it taught the kids a lesson to be good,” she added.
Weinachstmanner were usually male relatives, aged 20 to 30, whose identities were hidden behind costumes. They would often be seen walking arm in arm on Christmas Eve, ringing bells and yelling.
“On Christmas Eve Santa Claus was already in the street. You could hear the bells ringing and you could hear them yelling. Santa Claus there is not like here. He wore sheep jackets turned inside out, and looked scary and wore ugly masks with teeth and horns.”
On Christmas Eve, we had a little supper before church,” she continued. “And after church we went to school to say a Christmas poem that we had to write ourselves. Then we’d get a little bag of goodies– homemade candies and cookies, an apple, and if an orange was in there, that was sure something.”
“Then, of course, Santa asked us to say a poem and then he’d give you a little bag. Sometimes parents would give them permission to give their child a licking if they were bad,” she added.
One year, when she was 11 years old, Belousow dared herself to jump up and rip off the Weinachtsmann’s mask.
“…I was scared to do that, but I did it, and ripped off his mask—and who was it but my cousin? That’s the last time I believed in Santa Claus.”
As the evening wore on and things settled down, presents, consisting usually of handmade items like socks, gloves and cookies, were given. Visitors would arrive and songs would be sung, and the Christmas tree would be lit up with real candles made of beeswax.
“The Christmas tree—that was a very big secret,” Belousow said. “You were not allowed to see the Christmas tree until Christmas Eve. You were not allowed in the living room at all. The tree was decorated with nuts wrapped in silver paper, with cookies and cotton balls for snow, and real candles. It was beautiful.”
Christmas day would be a day for a bigger meal of ham, turkey, cabbage rolls and perogies.
“We made our own sauerkraut,” Belousow said. “We were lucky. Dad owned the flour mill. Not everybody had what we had. It was a rather poor province.”
Belousow immigrated to Canada with her husband and first child, Irma in 1952, at first living in
Estonia, SK. She felt the challenge of language barriers which hindered her job prospects.
“These were very, very poor Christmases,” she recalled.
She cooked a little and knitted her daughter, Irma, some mitts, socks and a hat. She bought her husband a carton of cigarettes.
“That was his present,” she said. “That was all we had.”
After mastering the English language, she was able to eventually to get training as a practical nurse, and things began to turn around for her. She got a good paying job at Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg, and the following Christmases became less impoverished.
Each Christmas Belousow made a point of taking her three children to the downtown Eaton’s department store to see Santa in his bright red suit.
“They believed for many, many years in Santa Claus.” It was a nice thing for them to have.
“It’s kind of cute. I think it’s nice,” Belousow said of the North American Santa. “We adopted the ideas from here so that the kids were comfortable; We kept half the traditions—church, dinner and opening presents on Christmas Eve. The food is the same as we had at home. We kept that tradition.”
For Belousow, the best part of Christmas is gathering together, and the holiday meal.
“What I don’t like is all the presents. The kids now, I think we spoil them. When they are older, what are we going to give them then?” she asked.
“Nowadays you don’t know what to get them. They’ve got everything.”
