Yakov Rybalov
Part 1, November 2024 - Exodus Issue 265
Tell us about your family background.
I was born during WWII in the Saratov region, where my mother, Klara Zalmanovna Tkach, was evacuated. My grandparents were shot by the Germans in one of the towns of the Khmelnytsky region, so I did not meet them. After the war, in 1946, my parents moved to Lviv, where I grew up. I remember how my father took me with him to the synagogue on Rosh Hashanah. He gave money to those in need there. I also remember how my mother gave me a clean pillowcase and told me the secret address where I should go to buy matzah for Passover, sneaking it home in this very pillowcase. Unfortunately, I cannot say anything more about the Jewish traditions in our family
Did you encounter anti-Semitism as a child or during your studies?
When I played in the yard with the other boys, they would shout at me: “Your Jews wanted to poison our Stalin!”, and I would fight with them. During my studies, I was constantly reminded of my people being a fifth column. Since Judaism was not practiced in my family, I knew nothing about the Jewish religion and history in the Soviet Union. This only changed after I came to Canada.
In what year?
In 1980. First, my wife, son and I came to Italy on an Israeli visa. In Rome, we went to an interview with the Canadian consul. The interpreter who prepared us for the interview turned out to be a Pole from Lvov, and I even knew the house where she lived. We communicated with her in Polish, and I mentioned that my son knew English songs. During the interview, the interpreter told the consul about this. He smiled and asked our son to sing. After the first song, the consul put his feet up on the table, lit a cigar and listened with pleasure to my son's half-hour concert. And then he said: “I invite this boy to Canada!"
“What city in Canada do you want to go to?” he asked me. Before the interview, some immigrant friends advised me: “Ask to go to a small city near Toronto.” So that's exactly what I asked the consul. He replied: “It's strange, usually people ask me to send them to Toronto. I can't grant this request to everyone, but I invite you and your son to Toronto.” But I didn't want to at all. So we found ourselves in the small city of London, Ontario. The city's Jewish community prepared an apartment for us. And so, on our first Canadian morning, the doorbell rang. I opened it and saw a religious Jew on the threshold, dressed in accordance with religious traditions. He introduced himself: "I am Dr. Block, a professor at the University of London. I invited him in. He took a package out of his briefcase, which contained some plastic boxes. I asked, "What are these?" He noted, "These are mezuzahs that will protect your home." Then he asked if I minded if he attached a mezuzah to my door. Of course, I agreed. Since then, wherever I moved, I always installed mezuzahs on the doors of my home and every business.
Let's talk about your work. What is your specialty?
In the Soviet Union, I was involved in construction, serving as deputy head of the Capital Construction Department. My first job in Canada was at a foundry, where I held the position of shift supervisor. Then I worked as a manager at a reinforced concrete plant. But I always felt that I wanted to start my own business – I just didn't know what kind.
Around this time, a friend of mine, who was then living in Chicago, celebrated his son's Bar Mitzvah. Guests from many cities in America came to the party, and my family and I were also invited. There I got into a conversation with a friend of mine, who said something strange: "Here in Texas, many engineers retrain as shoemakers and open their own workshops." I asked him if it was difficult to learn shoemaking. He replied: "I am an engineer by profession, but after work I go to study with a shoemaker." This impressed me, and upon arrival I became interested in shoemaking. I went into the first shoemaker's workshop I came across and began to observe the master. After a few minutes, he asked, "Can I help you with anything?" I replied that I wanted to learn shoemaking. He said, "I will not teach you, but you can just stand and watch." I stood next to his customers and carefully watched the shoemaker's actions. Two days later, he suddenly showed me the door and said, "Go away!" I asked, "Why?" He replied, "You'll learn and open a shop across from me. I don't want that!" At first I was upset, but then I came to the conclusion that I needed to go to a big city. So we moved to Toronto, where I started looking for a teacher who could teach me the shoemaker's trade.
To be continued…
