Part 9 - Sofia's Story

September 2005

by Risto Stefov
rstefov@hotmail.com

Sofia, daughter of Kata and Vlcho, was born in the village Zhelevo in August 1926.

Sofia went to live in Oshchima when she was three and a half years old. Her father died and her mother remarried Florin, a man from Oshchima. To protect the young girl’s future, Sofia’s last name was changed, thus assuming her mother’s new married name. Her brother Nikola, born in December 1924, was left in limbo drifting between Zhelevo and Oshchima while Sofia lived with her two stepbrothers Kole and Lambro.

Sofia completed grade six in the Oshchima public school and afterwards went to work helping her mother look after her baby sister Fana, doing housework and tending to the fields.

Sofia’s new family owned a number of fields and livestock which were looked after by step-brother Lambro and a variety store managed by step-brother Kole. With the property looked after, Florin was free to seek pechelbarstvo (migrant work) away from his village. He left for Canada in 1938.

Life was typical for Sofia until 1941 when Kole and Lambro decided to move out of the family home to pursue a life of their own. Without the men, Kata, Sofia and young Fana were left to fend for themselves.

Being the most able bodied all responsibilities now fell upon Sofia’s shoulders. In addition to housework, Sofia had to do tilling, planting, harvesting crops, cutting and transporting firewood, harvesting hay from the meadows and all other chores usually reserved for men.

Sofia had one passion in life, to ride her horse (another activity reserved for men) for which she was frequently criticized by her mother. In spite of all criticisms however, Sofia, in the absence of her mother, continued to ride her horse (like a man instead of like a woman with both legs to one side). As fate would have it, one time she accidentally came across her mother and to avoid being seen she hurriedly tried to dismount. Unfortunately, her foot got caught in the stirrup and she fell face down. She still bears the scars to prove it.

Startled, her horse bolted leaving Sofia on the ground with bleeding cuts to her face. Her mother ran to her aid and soon afterwards her horse too came back and Sofia was rescued.

The horse Sofia loved to ride so much was confiscated by the German military soon after the German invasion. Sofia was so sad to see it go.

Life for Sofia became even harsher with the Italian and later with the German invasions. Livestock and food were frequently confiscated and a certain amount of labour was demanded from each household. Sofia recalls one time while tilling soil, her plough (ralo) caught on a thick root and broke. Without a plough she was in serious trouble. If she quit ploughing she would commit her family to starvation. At that moment Sofia wished there was some way that she could escape her harsh life, hoping that a door would open to a different world where she could just walk away.

Unfortunately such a door did not exist and with the start of the Greek Civil War her situation continued to worsen. With her stepfather stranded in Canada, her brother drafted by the Greek Royal Military and her stepbrothers drafted by the Partisans she was now truly alone. Then when things seemed bleak they became even bleaker when the Partisans drafted Sofia herself.

Who was going to look after her mother Kata, her young sister Fana and her baby brother Vasil (born August 1934) now? Sofia was comforted by the fact that Fana was a capable girl and loved her mother very much and as long as the two women were together they would be all right.

In 1947 Sofia, along with three hundred other young women, was drafted and sent to Gierman, Prespa for military training. Sofia trained for three months before she found out her draft was a mistake. One day during a military cleanup exercise, when the women were taken to Rula near central command, Sofia was encouraged to appeal her draft on the grounds that two of her siblings were already Partisans. During the early stages of the Greek Civil War the Partisans followed policy, especially regarding the number of family members simultaneously drafted. Sofia’s appeal was accepted and she was discharged.

There was another unfortunate episode in Sofia’s life that took place during the burning of the Oshchima barns. The investigators were pointing fingers at the Partisans but Sofia knew that the perpetrators were not Partisans because they were wearing Royalist badges on their hats. Sofia, as she watched the men burn the barns, clearly saw a Royalist badge as it reflected the light from the flames.
Because of her remark, made in public, Sofia was dragged through a number of unpleasant investigations and frightening inquiries.

Unfortunately as the war progressed it reached a desperate stage and the Partisans again called Sofia to duty. It was January 1948 when she was sent for childcare training to Zhelevo, the town where she was born. After two months of training Sofia was transferred to Nivitsi, Prespa to begin receiving the refugee children. Her initial task was to round up lost and orphaned children. Later she was to receive and prepare children for the exodus.
Sofia recalls it was March 1st, 1948 when she was first transferred to Nivitsi and April 30th, of the same year when she left for Hungary.

When all the refugee children from the villages were collected, they were organized into small groups, assigned to designated mothers and one by one each group was sent on a trek out of the country. After reaching Rumbi, Prespa Region, for their safety, the groups were diverted from the main paths and escorted over the mountains. Most of the terrain was rough and difficult to traverse and the fear of being discovered made the situation very tense. The guides escorting the groups were constantly yelling at the designated mothers to keep the children moving and quiet.

At one point Sofia’s group came across a dangerously steep slope. Sofia recalls the slope was full of loose rocks and led directly into the rushing waters of a river. It was too dangerous for the children to cross alone so each mother had to make several trips and carry a child on her shoulders. The slope was out in the open, exposed to aerial view and expediency was in order. Sofia was lucky that day as a tragedy was narrowly averted. In her haste to get across, Sofia tripped over a thorn bush and lost her balance. As she stumbled she managed to take the child off her shoulders and toss her up the slope. Luckily the girl didn’t panic and was able to brace herself. Sofia then grabbed the child’s feet and regained her own balance. It was a frightening experience for everyone.

After spending a short time in Yugoslavia, the children were loaded on trains and sent to various Eastern European countries. Sofia’s group, consisting of about 2,000 children (35 from Oshchima), was sent to Hungary. During her trip Sofia found out that her sister Fana was among the refugee children but it wasn’t until later that the siblings met in person. Sofia was happy to see her sister and at the same time worried about the wellbeing of their mother.

After reaching Hungary the children were gathered together in a military barracks in Budapest. There each child was undressed, sprayed with pesticide, bathed, dressed in new clothing and given a package of toiletries that included a tube of toothpaste. The children, not knowing what the toothpaste was, mistook it for food. The aroma of mint reminded them of candy and many wasted the toothpaste, attempting to eat it.

Initially Greek and Macedonian children were mixed together in a single group. But due to outbreaks of fighting, the authorities were forced to split the children into smaller groups, segregated by village of origin. The Oshchimian children and Sofia were grouped together with the children from Nivitsi and Besfina.

After spending three weeks in quarantine the groups of children were adopted by the Hungarian community. Each village community supported by a factory complex adopted a group. Sofia’s group was taken by one of the richest communities in the region and her children were privileged to live in quarters made of marble. Nearby there was a small lake teeming with exotic and colourful fish. Unfortunately the children were all homesick missing their mothers and had little appreciation for luxury. Slowly, however, routine began to take over as the children attended school and became involved in school activities. Besides the regular curriculum, the refugee children were expected to learn to read and write in their native language. Even though Greek officials administered the programs and scoffed at the idea, the Macedonian children were given the choice of learning Macedonian.

There were a total of three hundred children in Sofia’s camp attending grades six to eight, males and females mixed together. The dormitory, however, was a Catholic nunnery and the genders ate and slept in separate quarters.

In August 1948, Sofia and one hundred and twenty other immigrant women were sent to Romania for two months of training to upgrade their teaching skills.

As the civil war back home drew to an end, Sofia, through the Red Cross, found out that her mother was well. She had emigrated to Toronto, Canada in 1950 where she joined her husband Florin. From her Greek boss and school administrator, on the last day of school, Sofia also found out that her mother was looking for her. Kata had sent a message via the Red Cross wanting both of her daughters to join her in Canada. After sharing the news with Fana, the sisters decided to go, the urge being too strong to resist. This, however, was not good news for the Greek administration and as a result Sofia was fired from her teaching job. After this Sofia was unable to find employment anywhere.

Without a job, Sofia could not pay her bills and had to move in with Kita, another surrogate mother from Oshchima. Kita’s place was small and had no spare bed. Thanks to Oshchimian ingenuity, however, Pandoitsa, another Oshchimian woman, came to the rescue. Pandoitsa found a large burlap bag, filled it with hay and gave it to Sofia to use as a mattress.

Her desire to cross the iron curtain landed Sofia in more trouble than she anticipated when she discovered that she couldn’t even purchase items from the stores. The local shops refused to sell her yarn. She had hoped that, being unable to support herself in any other way, she could knit gloves and sell them in the market. But as she discovered she couldn’t even do that. Kita’s mother came to her rescue. When purchasing yarn for herself she also purchased some for Sofia.

Fana shared a similar experience. After announcing that she accepted the offer to leave Hungary for Canada, Fana in 1955 was kicked out of nursing school and she too ended up living with Kita.

Finally the day came when Sofia and Fana were cleared to leave Hungary. They landed in Montreal in January 1955. When the doors of the plane opened no one was allowed to leave. On the tarmac music was playing and people were waving flags as the airplane’s captain announced on the P.A. that the first “Greek” children from behind the iron curtain had just arrived. Sofia and Fana looked around looking for “Greek children” but they could see none and concluded that the captain must be mistaken, there were no Greek children on the airplane. It was not until a Greek voice came over the P.A. asking anyone who spoke Greek to step forward, that the sisters realized they were talking about them. As they descended to the tarmac the media took pictures. To this day Sofia still treasures the newspaper articles written about them and the photographs of that day.

The reception in Toronto was even grander, hailed as an historic moment of being the first refugee children to cross the iron curtain. This was also a triumphant event for the Red Cross, for its crowning achievement of rejoining war torn families from the Greek Civil War.

No sooner had she landed in Canada than, according to her mother, being the eldest daughter and in the Macedonian tradition, Sofia’s priority was to quickly find a husband. She was twenty-nine years old when Sofia met George, a Hungarian man, whose culture and language she understood well. George was born in 1925 and left Hungary for France in 1946 and from there emigrated to Canada in 1954. George married Sofia in 1956. A couple of years later, their son Nick was born. The family followed Hungarian traditions at home and brought up Nick as a Hungarian but Sofia remained a Macedonian from Oshchima all her life.

Fana, Sofia’s sister, in spite of promising Sofia she would marry a Macedonian boy, also married a Hungarian.

Vasil, Sofia’s youngest brother, left Oshchima in 1947 with the refugee children and ended up in Poland where he remained until 1955. Vasil arrived in Canada in 1955.