Everywhere I went in Bulgaria and Serbia, I heard about the Gypsy 'problem'.
Attitudes were often quite negative and relations were clearly strained.
As I wandered and listened and observed, much of it seemed strangely reminiscent
of an earlier time in America. It reminded be of the '50s and 60's when
Americans were also struggling with the presence of blacks (former slaves)
and with those of different ethnicities and cultures...non-whites, such as Mexicans.
It was interesting to find that Roma were slaves in the Balkan regions for many years.
In fact, their legal emancipation occurred around the same time as that of America's slaves.
The Roma perform menial tasks (such as street sweeping and metal recycling)
and agricultural work for little pay in the same manner that blacks and chicanos have.
While our minorities still struggle for equality, things have come a long way.
The pace of integration into society has been much slower here in Bulgaria.
For instance, segregated communities and schools are still quite common.
Segregation is openly accepted and encouraged, whereas in America, segregation is taboo.
Yet historically the Roma received somewhat better treatment in Bulgaria than in other countries.
America was founded on principles of fairness and equality for all. We were dissatisfied
with restrictions and the old ways. The repressed and oppressed flocked to our shores.
We openly defined ourselves as a melting pot as successive waves of immigrants arrived.
America was an experiment of grand proportions and far-reaching ideals, a place of openness
and freedom. A place where everyone had a fair chance. It was, and still is...
Far from perfect. Easier said than done, but through struggle and with time,
we have achieved much.
Ethnic tensions of every stripe were intensely felt and experienced in every aspect
of society along the way.
From jobs to neighborhoods, religion, intermarriage and social and political status...
All were part of the struggle that played out in so many ways.
It was and still is, to some degree, an uneven development, but it continues to work.
Some people are by nature and nurture quicker to adapt to these changes.
Many others are, for the same reasons, slower to receive those that are different.
I could identify with some of their experience by looking back to my own childhood.
I remember my early years growing up in Los Angeles in the early fifties.
Back then virtually everyone seemed to be tall, slim, blonde and tan...
the idealized beauty of the time. My little world was peaceful and homogeneous.
But one night we were driving to a movie theater and my dad took a couple of wrong turns
and wound up in Watts...the volatile black neighborhood of the 50's.
In moments we were surrounded by police cruisers, lights flashing, sirens blaring
and men in riot gear.
It felt like we had stumbled into a war zone. And, in fact, we had.
We were questioned and warned to stay away for our own safety.
And then we were given an armed escort out of the area...
That was eye-opening! I was 5 years old.
Soon after, when the first Mexican family moved into our little suburban neighborhood,
there was a huge uproar. House for Sale signs sprouted overnight..."the Mexicans are coming".
It was only one family, but nearly everyone panicked.
We got to know them once things simmered down a little. They were lovely people.
I still remember Mrs. Soto bringing over big platters of the most delicious homemade enchiladas
I have ever tasted. We became best friends with their girls.
But I also remember their 1st Christmas when someone broke into their home
and stole all their presents. When it was later found that their own relatives had broken in.
we felt their painful embarrassment. We all pitched in to share what we had with them.
You can imagine the gossip from that one!
Some years later, I picked strawberries all summer alongside local kids and migrant workers.
I befriended a Mexican girl whose family lived in the back of a truck.
One girl and 12 brothers...living rough. What a life..
But for our part, we spent a happy summer together.
On the final day of harvest, we would get paid for all of our season's hard work.
My friend offered to cash in my pick ticket and have the money for me early the next morning
so I wouldn't have to wait in a long line. I handed my ticket to her at her urging,
not heeding the little twinge in the pit of my stomach.
When I arrived early the next morning her family was already gone..they had gotten paid the night before. Gone before first light... I was crushed! She had stolen all that I had worked for.
No friend, no money, no goodbye. They were taught to steal....compelled by their parents.
When I was 9 years old, we moved from sunny southern California to Wisconsin.
That was a series of shocks. It was the 1st time seeing snow, having a winter coat!
Sitting in class, there were suddenly all kinds of 'strange' kids! I was so struck by all the diversity!
Polish kids and a Native American or two. Kids of mixed European descent...
Italians mixed with Irish, Czechs with Germans and the like.
In the end, typical American kids, but from my very limited perspective it was a big adjustment.
I felt like I had landed on another planet. Planet Green Bay.
My world expanded in the most uncomfortable way.
I had to decide quickly if I was going to hate my circumstances or embrace them.
In the end, I embraced them. I began to open up, take chances and like my fellow classmates.
I was lucky. I was a white kid, so circumstances favored my inclusion, more or less without question,
but other minor prejudices kicked in: I wasn't 'from' there. My parents had no standing socially or financially.
My folks helped us deal with those attitudes with a little common sense.
We learned to minimize those concerns.
They taught us that we were just as good as anyone else and to do our best and ignore the rest.
In the end, I thought people in general wasted an awful lot of time and energy on such things.
Judging each other...and thinking they had to put other people in their places...
To me, they were just self appointed bullies trying to shape others to meet their expectations.
No doubt, children and adults suffer the same thing when society becomes overbearing.
Such needless suffering....
Now, as then, people still opt to poison their lives with such nonsense.
They fail to see the gift of each culture, each individual.
When I look upon people now, I see individuals who are the living survivors of so much history.
Just think of all that has happened to our forebears...
Famines, wars, pogroms, natural calamities, plagues and other illnesses.
Mothers dying giving birth, accidents, every conceivable hardship and struggle..
.
How incredibly fortunate that we are here at all...alive and well.
We are...all of us... the living legacy of all that has happened throughout history.
So many miracles that we are here...
Contemplate that for awhile...
Now look at the next human being that you see and consider that this is true for them as well.
We are that precious legacy...each and every one of us.
We should look at each other from that standpoint.
Each one a miraculous survivor of so much..
It should be no wonder that we are a little bumped and misshapen and imperfect...
Still struggling somewhat, rough and smooth, loving and falling short...
.
What would it hurt to accord each person you see a little respect...and awe.
You and I....we are here together... in this time.
A long line of history precedes us. We are the precious remnant that made it through to today.
It becomes inconceivable to me that people would want to take life...or even harm it in any way.
We should be binding up the wounds, breaking out of society's senseless and hate-filled trance.
Connecting with life instead of ravaging it...
Do you feel better when holding onto prejudice, anger or grievance? ...really?
or does your heart swell and ease itself when you are kind to another?
Your own body will tell you everything you need to know....
We are the only ones that can...or will...fix these problems in the end....
We cannot pawn them off or delegate them to others...
Not the governments, not the committees, the endless programs or think tanks....
That has become a get rich quick scheme for those who make a pretense of helping.
Hard earned charitable dollars are systematically withheld from the very people they
were intended to help by the very programs created to administer those funds.
Very little trickles down...it was never intended to...
More about that in the next post...
Thanks again for visiting the Gypsy Ashram...Your comments and additions are always welcome.
Feel free to share these posts...
Keep your hearts open, dear Gypsies...
Monday, May 28, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
The Gypsy "Problem"
Everywhere I went in Bulgaria and Serbia, I heard about the Gypsy 'problem'.
Attitudes were often quite negative and relations were clearly strained.
As I wandered and listened and observed, much of it seemed strangely reminiscent
of an earlier time in America. It reminded be of the '50s and 60's when
Americans were also struggling with the presence of blacks (former slaves)
and with those of different ethnicities and cultures...non-whites, such as Mexicans.
It was interesting to find that Roma were slaves in the Balkan regions for many years.
In fact, their legal emancipation occurred around the same time as that of America's slaves.
The Roma perform menial tasks (such as street sweeping and metal recycling)
and agricultural work for little pay in the same manner that blacks and chicanos have.
While our minorities still struggle for equality, things have come a long way.
The pace of integration into society has been much slower here in Bulgaria.
For instance, segregated communities and schools are still quite common.
Segregation is openly accepted and encouraged, whereas in America, segregation is taboo.
Yet historically the Roma received somewhat better treatment in Bulgaria than in other countries.
America was founded on principles of fairness and equality for all. We were dissatisfied
with restrictions and the old ways. The repressed and oppressed flocked to our shores.
We openly defined ourselves as a melting pot as successive waves of immigrants arrived.
America was an experiment of grand proportions and far-reaching ideals, a place of openness
and freedom. A place where everyone had a fair chance. It was, and still is...
Far from perfect. Easier said than done, but through struggle and with time,
we have achieved much.
Ethnic tensions of every stripe were intensely felt and experienced in every aspect
of society along the way.
From jobs to neighborhoods, religion, intermarriage and social and political status...
All were part of the struggle that played out in so many ways.
It was and still is, to some degree, an uneven development, but it continues to work.
Some people are by nature and nurture quicker to adapt to these changes.
Many others are, for the same reasons, slower to receive those that are different.
I could identify with some of their experience by looking back to my own childhood.
I remember my early years growing up in Los Angeles in the early fifties.
Back then virtually everyone seemed to be tall, slim, blonde and tan...
the idealized beauty of the time. My little world was peaceful and homogeneous.
But one night we were driving to a movie theater and my dad took a couple of wrong turns
and wound up in Watts...the volatile black neighborhood of the 50's.
In moments we were surrounded by police cruisers, lights flashing, sirens blaring
and men in riot gear.
It felt like we had stumbled into a war zone. And, in fact, we had.
We were questioned and warned to stay away for our own safety.
And then we were given an armed escort out of the area...
That was eye-opening! I was 5 years old.
Soon after, when the first Mexican family moved into our little suburban neighborhood,
there was a huge uproar. House for Sale signs sprouted overnight..."the Mexicans are coming".
It was only one family, but nearly everyone panicked.
We got to know them once things simmered down a little. They were lovely people.
I still remember Mrs. Soto bringing over big platters of the most delicious homemade enchiladas
I have ever tasted. We became best friends with their girls.
But I also remember their 1st Christmas when someone broke into their home
and stole all their presents. When it was later found that their own relatives had broken in.
we felt their painful embarrassment. We all pitched in to share what we had with them.
You can imagine the gossip from that one!
Some years later, I picked strawberries all summer alongside local kids and migrant workers.
I befriended a Mexican girl whose family lived in the back of a truck.
One girl and 12 brothers...living rough. What a life..
But for our part, we spent a happy summer together.
On the final day of harvest, we would get paid for all of our season's hard work.
My friend offered to cash in my pick ticket and have the money for me early the next morning
so I wouldn't have to wait in a long line. I handed my ticket to her at her urging,
not heeding the little twinge in the pit of my stomach.
When I arrived early the next morning her family was already gone..they had gotten paid the night before. Gone before first light... I was crushed! She had stolen all that I had worked for.
No friend, no money, no goodbye. They were taught to steal....compelled by their parents.
When I was 9 years old, we moved from sunny southern California to Wisconsin.
That was a series of shocks. It was the 1st time seeing snow, having a winter coat!
Sitting in class, there were suddenly all kinds of 'strange' kids! I was so struck by all the diversity!
Polish kids and a Native American or two. Kids of mixed European descent...
Italians mixed with Irish, Czechs with Germans and the like.
In the end, typical American kids, but from my very limited perspective it was a big adjustment.
I felt like I had landed on another planet. Planet Green Bay.
My world expanded in the most uncomfortable way.
I had to decide quickly if I was going to hate my circumstances or embrace them.
In the end, I embraced them. I began to open up, take chances and like my fellow classmates.
I was lucky. I was a white kid, so circumstances favored my inclusion, more or less without question,
but other minor prejudices kicked in: I wasn't 'from' there. My parents had no standing socially or financially.
My folks helped us deal with those attitudes with a little common sense.
We learned to minimize those concerns.
They taught us that we were just as good as anyone else and to do our best and ignore the rest.
In the end, I thought people in general wasted an awful lot of time and energy on such things.
Judging each other...and thinking they had to put other people in their places...
To me, they were just self appointed bullies trying to shape others to meet their expectations.
No doubt, children and adults suffer the same thing when society becomes overbearing.
Such needless suffering....
Now, as then, people still opt to poison their lives with such nonsense.
They fail to see the gift of each culture, each individual.
When I look upon people now, I see individuals who are the living survivors of so much history.
Just think of all that has happened to our forebears...
Famines, wars, pogroms, natural calamities, plagues and other illnesses.
Mothers dying giving birth, accidents, every conceivable hardship and struggle..
.
How incredibly fortunate that we are here at all...alive and well.
We are...all of us... the living legacy of all that has happened throughout history.
So many miracles that we are here...
Contemplate that for awhile...
Now look at the next human being that you see and consider that this is true for them as well.
We are that precious legacy...each and every one of us.
We should look at each other from that standpoint.
Each one a miraculous survivor of so much..
It should be no wonder that we are a little bumped and misshapen and imperfect...
Still struggling somewhat, rough and smooth, loving and falling short...
.
What would it hurt to accord each person you see a little respect...and awe.
You and I....we are here together... in this time.
A long line of history precedes us. We are the precious remnant that made it through to today.
It becomes inconceivable to me that people would want to take life...or even harm it in any way.
We should be binding up the wounds, breaking out of society's senseless and hate-filled trance.
Connecting with life instead of ravaging it...
Do you feel better when holding onto prejudice, anger or grievance? ...really?
or does your heart swell and ease itself when you are kind to another?
Your own body will tell you everything you need to know....
We are the only ones that can...or will...fix these problems in the end....
We cannot pawn them off or delegate them to others...
Not the governments, not the committees, the endless programs or think tanks....
That has become a get rich quick scheme for those who make a pretense of helping.
Hard earned charitable dollars are systematically withheld from the very people they
were intended to help by the very programs created to administer those funds.
Very little trickles down...it was never intended to...
More about that in the next post...
Thanks again for visiting the Gypsy Ashram...Your comments and additions are always welcome.
Feel free to share these posts...
Keep your hearts open, dear Gypsies...
Attitudes were often quite negative and relations were clearly strained.
As I wandered and listened and observed, much of it seemed strangely reminiscent
of an earlier time in America. It reminded be of the '50s and 60's when
Americans were also struggling with the presence of blacks (former slaves)
and with those of different ethnicities and cultures...non-whites, such as Mexicans.
It was interesting to find that Roma were slaves in the Balkan regions for many years.
In fact, their legal emancipation occurred around the same time as that of America's slaves.
The Roma perform menial tasks (such as street sweeping and metal recycling)
and agricultural work for little pay in the same manner that blacks and chicanos have.
While our minorities still struggle for equality, things have come a long way.
The pace of integration into society has been much slower here in Bulgaria.
For instance, segregated communities and schools are still quite common.
Segregation is openly accepted and encouraged, whereas in America, segregation is taboo.
Yet historically the Roma received somewhat better treatment in Bulgaria than in other countries.
America was founded on principles of fairness and equality for all. We were dissatisfied
with restrictions and the old ways. The repressed and oppressed flocked to our shores.
We openly defined ourselves as a melting pot as successive waves of immigrants arrived.
America was an experiment of grand proportions and far-reaching ideals, a place of openness
and freedom. A place where everyone had a fair chance. It was, and still is...
Far from perfect. Easier said than done, but through struggle and with time,
we have achieved much.
Ethnic tensions of every stripe were intensely felt and experienced in every aspect
of society along the way.
From jobs to neighborhoods, religion, intermarriage and social and political status...
All were part of the struggle that played out in so many ways.
It was and still is, to some degree, an uneven development, but it continues to work.
Some people are by nature and nurture quicker to adapt to these changes.
Many others are, for the same reasons, slower to receive those that are different.
I could identify with some of their experience by looking back to my own childhood.
I remember my early years growing up in Los Angeles in the early fifties.
Back then virtually everyone seemed to be tall, slim, blonde and tan...
the idealized beauty of the time. My little world was peaceful and homogeneous.
But one night we were driving to a movie theater and my dad took a couple of wrong turns
and wound up in Watts...the volatile black neighborhood of the 50's.
In moments we were surrounded by police cruisers, lights flashing, sirens blaring
and men in riot gear.
It felt like we had stumbled into a war zone. And, in fact, we had.
We were questioned and warned to stay away for our own safety.
And then we were given an armed escort out of the area...
That was eye-opening! I was 5 years old.
Soon after, when the first Mexican family moved into our little suburban neighborhood,
there was a huge uproar. House for Sale signs sprouted overnight..."the Mexicans are coming".
It was only one family, but nearly everyone panicked.
We got to know them once things simmered down a little. They were lovely people.
I still remember Mrs. Soto bringing over big platters of the most delicious homemade enchiladas
I have ever tasted. We became best friends with their girls.
But I also remember their 1st Christmas when someone broke into their home
and stole all their presents. When it was later found that their own relatives had broken in.
we felt their painful embarrassment. We all pitched in to share what we had with them.
You can imagine the gossip from that one!
Some years later, I picked strawberries all summer alongside local kids and migrant workers.
I befriended a Mexican girl whose family lived in the back of a truck.
One girl and 12 brothers...living rough. What a life..
But for our part, we spent a happy summer together.
On the final day of harvest, we would get paid for all of our season's hard work.
My friend offered to cash in my pick ticket and have the money for me early the next morning
so I wouldn't have to wait in a long line. I handed my ticket to her at her urging,
not heeding the little twinge in the pit of my stomach.
When I arrived early the next morning her family was already gone..they had gotten paid the night before. Gone before first light... I was crushed! She had stolen all that I had worked for.
No friend, no money, no goodbye. They were taught to steal....compelled by their parents.
When I was 9 years old, we moved from sunny southern California to Wisconsin.
That was a series of shocks. It was the 1st time seeing snow, having a winter coat!
Sitting in class, there were suddenly all kinds of 'strange' kids! I was so struck by all the diversity!
Polish kids and a Native American or two. Kids of mixed European descent...
Italians mixed with Irish, Czechs with Germans and the like.
In the end, typical American kids, but from my very limited perspective it was a big adjustment.
I felt like I had landed on another planet. Planet Green Bay.
My world expanded in the most uncomfortable way.
I had to decide quickly if I was going to hate my circumstances or embrace them.
In the end, I embraced them. I began to open up, take chances and like my fellow classmates.
I was lucky. I was a white kid, so circumstances favored my inclusion, more or less without question,
but other minor prejudices kicked in: I wasn't 'from' there. My parents had no standing socially or financially.
My folks helped us deal with those attitudes with a little common sense.
We learned to minimize those concerns.
They taught us that we were just as good as anyone else and to do our best and ignore the rest.
In the end, I thought people in general wasted an awful lot of time and energy on such things.
Judging each other...and thinking they had to put other people in their places...
To me, they were just self appointed bullies trying to shape others to meet their expectations.
No doubt, children and adults suffer the same thing when society becomes overbearing.
Such needless suffering....
Now, as then, people still opt to poison their lives with such nonsense.
They fail to see the gift of each culture, each individual.
When I look upon people now, I see individuals who are the living survivors of so much history.
Just think of all that has happened to our forebears...
Famines, wars, pogroms, natural calamities, plagues and other illnesses.
Mothers dying giving birth, accidents, every conceivable hardship and struggle..
.
How incredibly fortunate that we are here at all...alive and well.
We are...all of us... the living legacy of all that has happened throughout history.
So many miracles that we are here...
Contemplate that for awhile...
Now look at the next human being that you see and consider that this is true for them as well.
We are that precious legacy...each and every one of us.
We should look at each other from that standpoint.
Each one a miraculous survivor of so much..
It should be no wonder that we are a little bumped and misshapen and imperfect...
Still struggling somewhat, rough and smooth, loving and falling short...
.
What would it hurt to accord each person you see a little respect...and awe.
You and I....we are here together... in this time.
A long line of history precedes us. We are the precious remnant that made it through to today.
It becomes inconceivable to me that people would want to take life...or even harm it in any way.
We should be binding up the wounds, breaking out of society's senseless and hate-filled trance.
Connecting with life instead of ravaging it...
Do you feel better when holding onto prejudice, anger or grievance? ...really?
or does your heart swell and ease itself when you are kind to another?
Your own body will tell you everything you need to know....
We are the only ones that can...or will...fix these problems in the end....
We cannot pawn them off or delegate them to others...
Not the governments, not the committees, the endless programs or think tanks....
That has become a get rich quick scheme for those who make a pretense of helping.
Hard earned charitable dollars are systematically withheld from the very people they
were intended to help by the very programs created to administer those funds.
Very little trickles down...it was never intended to...
More about that in the next post...
Thanks again for visiting the Gypsy Ashram...Your comments and additions are always welcome.
Feel free to share these posts...
Keep your hearts open, dear Gypsies...
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Gypsies in Bulgaria... the trip part 1
oh so much to say!
Gathering up a carry-on worth of clothes and heading off to the airport for the trip
was exhilarating, as always.
When I give thought to many of the most enriching times in life, they have almost always
involved traveling, being on the move.
Once you get the hang of travel as a necessary part of life's education, you learn to travel light...
and then lighter...and then lighter still.
When you get really good at it, you can leave most of your belongings along the way.
In the final tally, YOU are the essential element. You...and the world you are encountering.
Essentials vary along life's path... So take what you need...leave the rest.
The more you have to stop and think about, care for, protect, etc., the less present
you are to your experience.
To paraphrase Thoreau, "A man is rich in proportion to what he can live without."
That has been a guiding principle since I first encountered it.
I've experienced both sides of life and I still agree!
For the cultural experience, I opted to fly on the Polish Airline LOT to Chicago,
then on to Warsaw and Sofia.
There were few non Polish travelers on board, so it was a small immersion in the language,
food and feel of the country.
I enjoyed the family interaction, the temporary village of travelers and the general Polishness
of everything.
It also had the effect of catapulting me out of America, shaking me loose for a little
European diversity and waking up to the challenge of travelling....lots of dormant brain cells there.
In keeping with my recent experience of losing access to my computer and setting aside
various media, I decided to not bring a laptop, not bury my nose in a book or write
more than a few notes.
I would just experience simply and in repose.
What a difference that can make...
No feverish list making, reading of guidebooks, and the like.
No avoidance of what is there, be it a squalling child, or a crowded seat, or the passage of time.
The flights went smoothly, I arrived in reasonable condition and before long I had dropped my bag, freshened up and headed out for a walk to stretch my limbs and breathe in the Balkan spring air.
It was so good to be back. The beautiful cathedral, the parks, cobblestone streets, cafes and tiny shops. Sofia has a special ambience. There was snow on the nearby mountain peaks, flowers and trees in bud
and the city was reveling in Palm Sunday festivities.
I had also arrived on International Roma Day, but much to my surprise there was no mention
this year of upcoming or scheduled events. I looked in vain, as did several friends who would
know about such things. Although it has been a tense year for Bulgarian Roma since an
accident last September brought tensions to the fore.
However, an opportunity to visit a Roma settlement and school on the outskirts of the city
came a few days later when a handful of us tagged along to watch a spirited dance rehearsal
for an upcoming show.
I was forewarned that I would be entering another world...a very dark world.
When we drove into the settlement it reminded me somewhat of a Native American
Indian reservation. A segregated world, where intruders were few.
It was somewhat poor and rundown with a few newer houses alongside handmade shanties.
The grounds were somewhat littered, but it was not as horrible as I had been led to expect.
I wasn't there to criticize, but to observe and learn as much as I could.
Looking beyond that, I saw kids playing on bikes and 4 wheelers, safe and relaxed
within their village, people walking together, shopping at the several tiny convenience stores.
Conditions were simple, below Bulgarian standards, if you will, but Bulgaria itself is one of
the poorer countries in the region (since the collapse of Communism some 20 years ago,
it has been hard to recover in many ways)
But, for all that, the Roma settlement has a liveliness all its own. The kids were beautiful,
eager to learn, as rambunctious as the kids I had seen in Rajastan years ago.
Magical... They knew it, too!
I'll post pictures soon...you'll see what I mean.
Big dark eyes, infectious enthusiasm, inquisitive and soon loving.
It wasn't long before any hesitation evaporated and we connected from the heart.
On the way back to Sofia, I was asked my reaction to the young people...
I said without hesitation, "They're just like the Bulgarian kids! They're great!!"
It seemed that I had said the unthinkable...but they knew I meant it. I hope it helped...
I only wish that society was farther along in terms of acceptance and embracing diversity.
Old judgmental attitudes die hard...
But for those who can open their hearts and take the time to get to know their neighbors
and receive them as such there are such gifts. The Roma/Gypsy have so much to share...
a medicine that our culture may well benefit from.
Gathering up a carry-on worth of clothes and heading off to the airport for the trip
was exhilarating, as always.
When I give thought to many of the most enriching times in life, they have almost always
involved traveling, being on the move.
Once you get the hang of travel as a necessary part of life's education, you learn to travel light...
and then lighter...and then lighter still.
When you get really good at it, you can leave most of your belongings along the way.
In the final tally, YOU are the essential element. You...and the world you are encountering.
Essentials vary along life's path... So take what you need...leave the rest.
The more you have to stop and think about, care for, protect, etc., the less present
you are to your experience.
To paraphrase Thoreau, "A man is rich in proportion to what he can live without."
That has been a guiding principle since I first encountered it.
I've experienced both sides of life and I still agree!
For the cultural experience, I opted to fly on the Polish Airline LOT to Chicago,
then on to Warsaw and Sofia.
There were few non Polish travelers on board, so it was a small immersion in the language,
food and feel of the country.
I enjoyed the family interaction, the temporary village of travelers and the general Polishness
of everything.
It also had the effect of catapulting me out of America, shaking me loose for a little
European diversity and waking up to the challenge of travelling....lots of dormant brain cells there.
In keeping with my recent experience of losing access to my computer and setting aside
various media, I decided to not bring a laptop, not bury my nose in a book or write
more than a few notes.
I would just experience simply and in repose.
What a difference that can make...
No feverish list making, reading of guidebooks, and the like.
No avoidance of what is there, be it a squalling child, or a crowded seat, or the passage of time.
The flights went smoothly, I arrived in reasonable condition and before long I had dropped my bag, freshened up and headed out for a walk to stretch my limbs and breathe in the Balkan spring air.
It was so good to be back. The beautiful cathedral, the parks, cobblestone streets, cafes and tiny shops. Sofia has a special ambience. There was snow on the nearby mountain peaks, flowers and trees in bud
and the city was reveling in Palm Sunday festivities.
I had also arrived on International Roma Day, but much to my surprise there was no mention
this year of upcoming or scheduled events. I looked in vain, as did several friends who would
know about such things. Although it has been a tense year for Bulgarian Roma since an
accident last September brought tensions to the fore.
However, an opportunity to visit a Roma settlement and school on the outskirts of the city
came a few days later when a handful of us tagged along to watch a spirited dance rehearsal
for an upcoming show.
I was forewarned that I would be entering another world...a very dark world.
When we drove into the settlement it reminded me somewhat of a Native American
Indian reservation. A segregated world, where intruders were few.
It was somewhat poor and rundown with a few newer houses alongside handmade shanties.
The grounds were somewhat littered, but it was not as horrible as I had been led to expect.
I wasn't there to criticize, but to observe and learn as much as I could.
Looking beyond that, I saw kids playing on bikes and 4 wheelers, safe and relaxed
within their village, people walking together, shopping at the several tiny convenience stores.
Conditions were simple, below Bulgarian standards, if you will, but Bulgaria itself is one of
the poorer countries in the region (since the collapse of Communism some 20 years ago,
it has been hard to recover in many ways)
But, for all that, the Roma settlement has a liveliness all its own. The kids were beautiful,
eager to learn, as rambunctious as the kids I had seen in Rajastan years ago.
Magical... They knew it, too!
I'll post pictures soon...you'll see what I mean.
Big dark eyes, infectious enthusiasm, inquisitive and soon loving.
It wasn't long before any hesitation evaporated and we connected from the heart.
On the way back to Sofia, I was asked my reaction to the young people...
I said without hesitation, "They're just like the Bulgarian kids! They're great!!"
It seemed that I had said the unthinkable...but they knew I meant it. I hope it helped...
I only wish that society was farther along in terms of acceptance and embracing diversity.
Old judgmental attitudes die hard...
But for those who can open their hearts and take the time to get to know their neighbors
and receive them as such there are such gifts. The Roma/Gypsy have so much to share...
a medicine that our culture may well benefit from.
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