ערובין-נט

Many years ago, Avram, a talmudic scholar from Odessa, received special permission from the Soviet authorities to travel to Moscow.  He took his seat on the train and a well-dressed young man sat down next to him.  Looking at this fellow traveler, Avram thought to himself: This young man obviously is not a peasant and if he isn’t a peasant, he probably comes from this area.  If he comes from this area, he probably is Jewish because a majority of the people in this area are Jewish and we go according to the רוב.  But if he’s Jewish, where could he be going?  The Rabbi told me that I’m the only one from the area who received permission to travel to Moscow.  Avram then remembered that there is a small village outside of Moscow called Samvet and special permission is not required to travel to Samvet.  But why would he be going to Samvet?  He’s probably going to visit one of the Jewish families there, but there are only two Jewish families in Samvet, the Bernsteins and the Steinbergs.  The Bernsteins are a horrible family, so he must be going to visit the Steinbergs.  As the train rolled along, Avram thought to himself, why is his fellow passenger going to visit the Steinbergs?  They have two daughters, so perhaps he’s their son-in-law.  But if so, which daughter did he marry?  Sarah married a lawyer from Budapest and Esther married a local boy from a suburb of Odessa, so this must be Sarah’s husband!  Which means that his name must be David Cohen, if I’m not mistaken.  But with the rampant anti-Semitism in Budapest, he must have changed his name.  What’s the Hungarian equivalent of Cohen? Kovacs.  But if he changed his name, he must have some special status, like a university doctorate.  At this point, Avram turned to the young man and said “Good afternoon Dr. Kovacs.”  “Good afternoon to you,” the startled man responded.  “But how is it that you know my name?”  “Easy,” replied Avram, “I’ve got a גמרא kup.”

05/07/2020