Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

WAGE EARNERS 33

From the shining stones to the rags and bones...

The rag-and-bone dealers have their own melody. "Voddeeeee" (raaaaags!).

Then a thirty seconds pause.

"Voddeeeee!!!"

They never shout "bones".That is because bones do not yield profit any more since the glue factories have switched to producing artificial glue.

Moreover, you can smell the bones a mile away and they attract a cavalcade of flies which accompany the cart from one street to another. That drives away the customers.

"Voddeeeee!!!" When he chances to meet one of his companions in adversity on the street, the rags dealer says "In seven weeks I have not earned one cent. But perhaps todays my lucky day."

To them the rag trade may be a means of earning their bread, but they have to be satisfied with dry bread, there is no meat on it.

The simple folks in those days dreamed of being able to afford eating meat sandwiches in a sandwich shop. For them that was the crowning luxury. There were many such shops in Amsterdam at the time. In the sandwich shop a beefy man in a white coat cuts lean salted meat into thin slices. Then he places the slices in a freshly cut roll but leaves the meat hanging from the sides like lavish curtains. That is what's called a "normal" roll.

A variation is the "half-and-half" roll, a mixed marriage between boiled liver and meat, joined in holy matrimony by the bread. The precarious wedlock is made spicy by a blob of mustard. Sandwich shop Zuidema in Warmoestreet