You know, language is a slippery thing sometimes....
We are bombarded with so many words, so much information these days
that images, ideas and information begin to blur together.
We are jumping to conclusions before we have even quite heard the stories.
As an old friend once cautioned me, "we are jumping to confusions".
On the recent trip to Bulgaria and Serbia, I had to wonder about two of these
'blurry' concepts, in particular...
On one hand, as I looked upon the post communism/new capitalism era
I suddenly heard myself...and was dismayed at my mistake.
I had thought 'capitalism' and not 'democracy'.
Isn't 'democracy' what we pride ourselves on?
Wasn't 'democracy' the original and stated goal?
How had 'democracy' come to denote 'capitalism'...and rampant
western-style capitalism at that?
In a far departure from the ideals of democracy, there has occurred a blurring
of these concepts....perhaps even a 'bait and switch'.
Unfettered capitalism seems to have replaced the democratic experience.
The terms are now used interchangeably and casually to the great harm of societies everywhere.
They have become nearly synonymous.
Having been granted the democratic freedom of autonomy and the rights of individuals
to pursue their own course in life, we find growing numbers of greedy people and corporations
taking over the landscape.
Instead of a noble and uplifting result, what we wound up with was the right to amass
as much money and power at the expense of as many as possible.
Rats clambering up the ladder to success.
We are not building a more just and equal society on either end of the ladder
at this stage of the game.
It is an exclusionary and elitist system that harms the good of all.
Democracy has not delivered on its promises because capitalism has replaced it.
People were seduced onto the path of competition, selfishness and greed.
It is clearly not working... Those in post-communist societies suffer still...more so.
The other concepts that have become unfortunately intermingled in people's minds
are that of 'assimilation' and "inclusion".
The context of my observations has particularly to do with the Roma people,
but it concerns all minority people in almost every conceivable context.
I believe that no person or society or government can work without a good underlying
philosophy. Fix that and most of the rest will take care of itself.
Without a sound and sane philosophy, there is simply chaos and base tendencies run amok.
Of course, this always serves the opportunists well.... Think about it...
The Decade of the Roma is well underway. Begun in 2005 in Sofia, Bulgaria,
it calls for the inclusion of the Roma in every level of society.
Many fine words have been spoken, programs initiated, meetings held.
So much rhetoric but so little tangible progress. Lovely window dressing.
Much money has exchanged hands on behalf of the Roma, but I see that little of it reaches them.
Instead, it continues to circulate within the tight circles of the privileged.
But again, we have the problem of language...
Where does inclusion start? In the minds and hearts of the excluders.
Who does "inclusion" appeal to? Those that "exclude"... of course!
But somehow the argument is turned on its head and, once again,
the burden falls not on the "excluders," but on the Roma who are now expected to "assimilate".
Again the terms are bandied about loosely...one or the other will do, it seems...
It's all the same...or is it?
If you stop to consider for a moment, it is quite clear that these are very different paths.
"Inclusion" assumes the right of every individual and group to co-exist in an equal and fair way.
Sharing the goods, services and opportunities... and not only that...but sharing the responsibilities,
as well.
It is common sense simple... and it is the only tool for healing society's troubles.
Whereas "assimilation" calls for the blending in or obliteration of the society or individual
as the price to be paid in order to participate in society as a so-called "equal".
This a an antagonistic approach that functions to keep people in unequal relationship to one another.
It cannot work. It goes against nature.
There is a further aspect to be discussed in my next post.... Trip to Serbia
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
The Gypsy "Problem"...assimilation's impact on you
In my last post, I considered the attitudes regarding assimilation of the Roma
as the solution to the so-called Gypsy problem.
I found that most of the rhetoric and effort is geared toward assimilation...
fitting in, erasing differences, leaving Roma values and culture behind
and adopting those of the dominant culture.
This does not only apply to the Roma people, but to those who are Gypsy in spirit.
It is not easy to carve out a life or livelihood when you find yourself at odds
with the prevailing culture.
You set aside your art or music, your freedoms and innate rhythms, your very uniqueness
to conform to a culture that encourages alienation from others and self.
Your color, your wild nature, your reaching for joy are all too much
for the uncreative and mechanistic culture that surrounds you.
You rein in your Love for Life and for People to match yourself to those around you.
You know it is wrong every step of the way but you are caught up in the flood for awhile.
You adopt fear, set aside generosity and innate goodness, and wipe away your open smile
to conform to a cold society.
It can be experienced as a kind of death to self to stifle your best and truest impulses
in order to survive...
You literally take your life in your hands if you dance sideways of the system to fashion
a life out of the deep and half-hidden desires and sensibilities you hold within.
Many times you run counter to family, spouses, friends, and authorities of all kinds
as you begin to assert yourself.
You run up against hurdle after hurdle until you are almost too weary to fight on.
We incur so much pain and self doubt along the way.
Much of our life is lived underground...we live as small and secret selves, hidden Gypsies.
We have already learned to reject ourselves...to hold prejudice on an inner level.
The work begins there ultimately...on the inside...as you discover and acknowledge
all that you are. To make a little room for that self...a safe and respectful place where
it can be protected and cultivated again on its often interrupted path through life.
It becomes a kind of spiritual quest for self and for God who gives continued nudges
as well as strength for the journey.
A colorful mosaic emerges... as messy, crazily beautiful and exuberant as life itself.
Do what you are able to do for now, but know that you will one day need to come
out of hiding and declare who you are...if you are lucky.
That is Life's gift to you ...to free you from self-limiting ideas...self-limiting lives...
other-limiting lives.
That is also your gift to others... to be who you are without reservation or apology.
To bring who you are out into the open...and to make that possible for others, too.
To forge a new and better culture day by day...
Consider it a creative challenge...don't sit around complaining about your plight.
Use your innate intelligence, wit and humor to out-strategize the system.
But find legitimate ways to express who you are, even if who you are changes daily.
Don't stop until you find the cleverest, most ethical, most lovingly human ways
to show the prevailing culture that they are misguided in regard to you and to life itself.
Don't become a leech out of anger and self righteousness as many have done,
but find the most artful and compelling ways to frame your innate beauty, character
and gifts.
Don't struggle...simply take what you have right now...for it is enough...and Outshine.
As always, be a Good Gypsy....Be a Smart Gypsy while you're at it!
as the solution to the so-called Gypsy problem.
I found that most of the rhetoric and effort is geared toward assimilation...
fitting in, erasing differences, leaving Roma values and culture behind
and adopting those of the dominant culture.
This does not only apply to the Roma people, but to those who are Gypsy in spirit.
It is not easy to carve out a life or livelihood when you find yourself at odds
with the prevailing culture.
You set aside your art or music, your freedoms and innate rhythms, your very uniqueness
to conform to a culture that encourages alienation from others and self.
Your color, your wild nature, your reaching for joy are all too much
for the uncreative and mechanistic culture that surrounds you.
You rein in your Love for Life and for People to match yourself to those around you.
You know it is wrong every step of the way but you are caught up in the flood for awhile.
You adopt fear, set aside generosity and innate goodness, and wipe away your open smile
to conform to a cold society.
It can be experienced as a kind of death to self to stifle your best and truest impulses
in order to survive...
You literally take your life in your hands if you dance sideways of the system to fashion
a life out of the deep and half-hidden desires and sensibilities you hold within.
Many times you run counter to family, spouses, friends, and authorities of all kinds
as you begin to assert yourself.
You run up against hurdle after hurdle until you are almost too weary to fight on.
We incur so much pain and self doubt along the way.
Much of our life is lived underground...we live as small and secret selves, hidden Gypsies.
We have already learned to reject ourselves...to hold prejudice on an inner level.
The work begins there ultimately...on the inside...as you discover and acknowledge
all that you are. To make a little room for that self...a safe and respectful place where
it can be protected and cultivated again on its often interrupted path through life.
It becomes a kind of spiritual quest for self and for God who gives continued nudges
as well as strength for the journey.
A colorful mosaic emerges... as messy, crazily beautiful and exuberant as life itself.
Do what you are able to do for now, but know that you will one day need to come
out of hiding and declare who you are...if you are lucky.
That is Life's gift to you ...to free you from self-limiting ideas...self-limiting lives...
other-limiting lives.
That is also your gift to others... to be who you are without reservation or apology.
To bring who you are out into the open...and to make that possible for others, too.
To forge a new and better culture day by day...
Consider it a creative challenge...don't sit around complaining about your plight.
Use your innate intelligence, wit and humor to out-strategize the system.
But find legitimate ways to express who you are, even if who you are changes daily.
Don't stop until you find the cleverest, most ethical, most lovingly human ways
to show the prevailing culture that they are misguided in regard to you and to life itself.
Don't become a leech out of anger and self righteousness as many have done,
but find the most artful and compelling ways to frame your innate beauty, character
and gifts.
Don't struggle...simply take what you have right now...for it is enough...and Outshine.
As always, be a Good Gypsy....Be a Smart Gypsy while you're at it!
Monday, May 28, 2012
The Gypsy "Problem" ....Assimilation
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...
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.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Back Home Again
Well, it has been an unexpectedly long absence...
My computer was down for several weeks and then, within days of its return, it was time to leave
for the Balkans once more.
For those of us who live on our computers much of the time, these events can be quite stressful.
They have been in the past whenever I was separated from my laptop and my routines.
This time around, I was surprised to find myself much calmer than usual.
I was initially told that the repair would take 2-3 days at most. I could live with that.
A little break is a good thing. Little did I realize that I would still be waiting 3 weeks later.
So much to do, yet I was stopped in my tracks at the most inconvenient time.
By now, I have lived long and hard enough to learn that the 'Universe' trumps all in these matters.
In the past, I would have fretted, pushed, gotten angry or indignant. I would have worried myself sick.
This time around I responded more gracefully. I slipped out of my old addiction simply and without complaint. Everything happens for a reason and the unexpected is usually a good thing.
No point in upsetting myself or anyone else over these events.
But what to do with all that time and energy!?
Well... I would just have to look up and around and perhaps within to see what other life beckoned.
I had half an idea that I might use this opportunity to ditch the TV for the duration, as well.
Most of my reading, too...
Step into the void for awhile... Lose the routines... Create a little growing space...
When I looked up and around me, I saw a whole lot of disconnect,
In my comfortable old routines I had managed to not see and neglect my environment.
There was cleaning to do and tossing of stuff that was extraneous to my life.
It felt good to de-clutter and renew my spaces.
Then I noticed the disconnect with my body. A perennial concern...lol.
I began to consciously attend to myself...reconnect.
I danced, I communed. I ate well and rested more.
I let down and released many of my old concerns.
I unburdened myself on every level.
I began to realize that this was all perfect preparation for the trip ahead.
Clearing my mind and heart for what lay ahead.
Letting myself become rested and still, emptied, pliable and receptive...
I gave some thought to how fragile we humans are...
These wonderful tools...our computers, TVs, cell phones and the like can go
from being timesavers and conveniences to becoming obsessions and addictions.
What is meant to serve us begins to master us instead.
We lose touch with our essential selves.
We even begin to think that time and energy spent this way IS real life.
If nothing else, it seems to become a satisfactory enough substitution...
That is why I have learned to appreciate these times of uncoupling and unplugging.
Our addictions are broken up periodically and we get to reconnect in a healthy way.
Awareness returns and we slip out of our little trances.
The societal trances that say that we must all be twittering and facebooking,
texting and sexting, exhausting ourselves with endless chatter and involvement.
Our family, work and personal trances that call for too much busyness,
too much self-criticism and self- improvement.
These are ideas that drum relentlessly in people's heads.
Other people's opinions that rob us of the simple peace and happiness of being here,
of being alive, of just living...without obligation, pressure and guilt.
Before you know it we are living "out there" instead of living "in here"...in our centers.
Our lives are being orchestrated for us...rather than being directed by our own awareness
and the desires of our own true selves.
We have to wrestle ourselves out of the grip of the society we find ourselves in periodically.
In the world, but not of the world...
Pilgrims, Gypsies, Exiles all....
Recovering, protecting and preserving our Gypsy souls...and, above all, expressing them.
so many blessings dear Gypsies...
My computer was down for several weeks and then, within days of its return, it was time to leave
for the Balkans once more.
For those of us who live on our computers much of the time, these events can be quite stressful.
They have been in the past whenever I was separated from my laptop and my routines.
This time around, I was surprised to find myself much calmer than usual.
I was initially told that the repair would take 2-3 days at most. I could live with that.
A little break is a good thing. Little did I realize that I would still be waiting 3 weeks later.
So much to do, yet I was stopped in my tracks at the most inconvenient time.
By now, I have lived long and hard enough to learn that the 'Universe' trumps all in these matters.
In the past, I would have fretted, pushed, gotten angry or indignant. I would have worried myself sick.
This time around I responded more gracefully. I slipped out of my old addiction simply and without complaint. Everything happens for a reason and the unexpected is usually a good thing.
No point in upsetting myself or anyone else over these events.
But what to do with all that time and energy!?
Well... I would just have to look up and around and perhaps within to see what other life beckoned.
I had half an idea that I might use this opportunity to ditch the TV for the duration, as well.
Most of my reading, too...
Step into the void for awhile... Lose the routines... Create a little growing space...
When I looked up and around me, I saw a whole lot of disconnect,
In my comfortable old routines I had managed to not see and neglect my environment.
There was cleaning to do and tossing of stuff that was extraneous to my life.
It felt good to de-clutter and renew my spaces.
Then I noticed the disconnect with my body. A perennial concern...lol.
I began to consciously attend to myself...reconnect.
I danced, I communed. I ate well and rested more.
I let down and released many of my old concerns.
I unburdened myself on every level.
I began to realize that this was all perfect preparation for the trip ahead.
Clearing my mind and heart for what lay ahead.
Letting myself become rested and still, emptied, pliable and receptive...
I gave some thought to how fragile we humans are...
These wonderful tools...our computers, TVs, cell phones and the like can go
from being timesavers and conveniences to becoming obsessions and addictions.
What is meant to serve us begins to master us instead.
We lose touch with our essential selves.
We even begin to think that time and energy spent this way IS real life.
If nothing else, it seems to become a satisfactory enough substitution...
That is why I have learned to appreciate these times of uncoupling and unplugging.
Our addictions are broken up periodically and we get to reconnect in a healthy way.
Awareness returns and we slip out of our little trances.
The societal trances that say that we must all be twittering and facebooking,
texting and sexting, exhausting ourselves with endless chatter and involvement.
Our family, work and personal trances that call for too much busyness,
too much self-criticism and self- improvement.
These are ideas that drum relentlessly in people's heads.
Other people's opinions that rob us of the simple peace and happiness of being here,
of being alive, of just living...without obligation, pressure and guilt.
Before you know it we are living "out there" instead of living "in here"...in our centers.
Our lives are being orchestrated for us...rather than being directed by our own awareness
and the desires of our own true selves.
We have to wrestle ourselves out of the grip of the society we find ourselves in periodically.
In the world, but not of the world...
Pilgrims, Gypsies, Exiles all....
Recovering, protecting and preserving our Gypsy souls...and, above all, expressing them.
so many blessings dear Gypsies...
Saturday, March 3, 2012
International Romani Day
In our last post, I mentioned that I always keep a suitcase (or several) by the door...just in case.
Well...spring is stirring and the desire to traipse around a bit has risen with it!
In the next weeks, I'll be joining some of my fine Dance Gypsy friends for Spring Fest in Chicago.
It will be a long weekend of Balkan, Turkish, Macedonian and Gypsy/Roma dancing with wonderful live music.
Soon after I will travel to Sofia, Bulgaria where, as fate would have it, I will arrive on April 8,
just in time for the International Day of the Roma. Bulgaria is home to many Roma people.
It is still possible to see horse drawn carts making their way down cobbled streets alongside cars.
I wonder what experiences await!
From Bulgaria, I will travel overland to Belgrade, Serbia. In my recent research, I was surprised to learn that Serbia is the main exporter of Gypsies to America...and that the Midwest is home to many of them.
At the time I started this blog, I did not know that these trips were on the horizon.
It is fascinating to see how everything is weaving together.
I am eager to see what I am to learn and experience...
Well...spring is stirring and the desire to traipse around a bit has risen with it!
In the next weeks, I'll be joining some of my fine Dance Gypsy friends for Spring Fest in Chicago.
It will be a long weekend of Balkan, Turkish, Macedonian and Gypsy/Roma dancing with wonderful live music.
Soon after I will travel to Sofia, Bulgaria where, as fate would have it, I will arrive on April 8,
just in time for the International Day of the Roma. Bulgaria is home to many Roma people.
It is still possible to see horse drawn carts making their way down cobbled streets alongside cars.
I wonder what experiences await!
From Bulgaria, I will travel overland to Belgrade, Serbia. In my recent research, I was surprised to learn that Serbia is the main exporter of Gypsies to America...and that the Midwest is home to many of them.
At the time I started this blog, I did not know that these trips were on the horizon.
It is fascinating to see how everything is weaving together.
I am eager to see what I am to learn and experience...
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