An Algerian life: Maxim’s and Macias

 The great synagogue, Oran

Claude Rouas (see his videotaped interview here) was born in Oran, Algeria in 1933. He overcame great hardships to finally settle in California, but returned to Algeria to visit to his mother’s grave in 1985. He tells his story to JIMENA on the Jerusalem Post:

Orphaned at a young age
after both of his parents died of cancer, Claude was raised by extended
family including his uncle “Papa Isaac”, and his brother, who was the
eldest of 5 siblings. Growing up in poverty and without parents, Claude
learned the art of hard work early on. His childhood jobs included
selling movie tickets, peddling goods on the street, tailoring and
working as a pastry chef. He lived on an all-Jewish street in the city
of Oran, bordering an Arab Muslim neighborhood. Claude recounts some
fights between the groups, but overall he remembers Jewish-Muslim
relations during this time as peaceful.

Claude’s family migrated from Algeria to France in 1937 in hopes of
finding better opportunities and a more secure life. Their first home in
Paris was a store they rented, sleeping in the storage room and using
the storefront as a makeshift dining room. They returned to Algeria in
1941, where Claude remained until moving to the U.S. in 1963.

Though he doesn’t come from an observant background, Claude was
raised with a value of preserving Jewish tradition, and recalls fondly
practices from his childhood such as studying for his Bar Mitzvah and
going to synagogue on Passover. Every Friday evening his family
gathered together for a Shabbat meal of couscous and d’fina stew. Jewish
custom was an integral part of mourning and life cycles growing up.

The holiday of Yom Kippur holds significant meaning and memory for
Claude. He remembers the hunger-fueled intensity and sullen temper of
his congregation members at La Grande Synagogue d’Oran, some of whom
even passed out at services. But Claude still looked forward to the
holiday every year for a different reason. As it is customary to don new
clothing for Yom Kippur, it was a busy time of year for the 9-year-old
tailor. Working longer hours than usual, Claude stayed at his boss’s
house for extended periods of time. Here he was guaranteed a cup of hot
coffee and a slice of bread and butter every morning – a luxury that
felt like “a dream life”. Nowadays Claude feels even closer to his
faith, which he expresses through practices including lighting Shabbat
candles weekly and wearing tallit.

One of the most profoundly sentimental mediums that invoke Claude’s
memory is the French-infused Jewish Algerian music. Ingrained in
Claude’s mind are the lyrics of Enrico Macias, which intone stories of
Jewish expulsion and migration to France. The melodies bring up such
strong emotions of longing that he avoids listening to them altogether.

At the age of 14, Claude took a major step towards a more promising
future when he left his family to attend a hotel and restaurant school.
As the only Jewish student, he faced some of his most marked
experiences of anti-Semitism the hands of his teacher, Monsieur Soleil,
who was the head of the dining room department. Mr. Soleil had cordial
relationships with other students in his department, who were 90% Arab
Muslim, but with Claude he was physically and verbally abusive,
asserting that Claude didn’t belong in the school because he would
“never survive in this industry.”

Claude excelled above and beyond these hardships, graduating at #2 in
his class and building a career in the hospitality business. He served
for two years in the French Army as a butler to a general in Paris. Here
he went on to work at some of the most renowned restaurants and hotels
in Paris and London, such as Maxim’s and Hotel Mirabelle. In Paris he
also met the owner of San Francisco’s acclaimed Ernie’s restaurant, who
invited him to work there. He was promoted to General Manager at age 32,
and oversaw the institution as it grew to be San Francisco’s most
successful restaurant of its time. In 1981, he opened a Napa Valley
restaurant which subsequently grew into a world-class luxury resort –
aptly named Auberge Du Soleil, a fitting comeback to the instructor who
told Claude he would never succeed in this industry.

Claude’s last visit to his birthplace was in 1985, when he returned
with his two daughters to see his mother’s grave. Claude found the
Algeria of his childhood was unrecognizable: the street names were
changed and beautiful landmarks had been destroyed. A road ran straight
through the middle of the Jewish cemetery, which had become a
“wilderness”, and it was impossible to find his mother’s burial plot.
Miraculously, his daughter happened upon the very patch of land where
his mother’s tombstone still stood. For Claude, the entire trip was
worth this very moment.

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