From quiet to epic: The slow burn of Roma celebrations

and feeling the electricity in the air

Vasko and Slavcho joking and blowing up balloons in preparation for Nana’s 50th birthday party | Picture by Martina Petkova

In our tribe, 4:00 PM is the default proclaimed start time for every celebration. Birthday or wedding, at home or a restaurant or outdoors, the invite always says 4:00 PM.

“What time is the party?” Pepi asked his sister Nana in December last year. She was about to turn 50 and was planning a huge celebration at a restaurant.

“4:00 PM,” she said.

The day of, Pepi’s phone started ringing at around 12:00 PM.

“Where are you?” people asked. Nana, her son Little Pepi, her son-in-law Trayan, all called. He kept telling them that we were waiting for our daughter (then, just over 1 year old) to wake up from her nap and we’d be on our way.

We were at the restaurant at 2:30. Half the tribe was already there. Some blowing up balloons and adding final touches to the decorations. Some setting the tables. The musicians were tuning their instruments. We had coffee and chatted with one of Pepi’s sisters.

The celebration officially began at around 5:00 PM. And by “officially began” we mean, that this is when Nana arrived at the restaurant and the entire tribe welcomed her with music. When celebrations are hosted in a restaurant, the arrival of the person who is being celebrated is a sight to behold - and a topic for another article.

But the question of when celebrations begin is fluid and, to the Romani, of little consequence. The start time they announce when they invite people serves the purpose of gathering the guests in the same place for the celebration. The expectation is never that they’ll arrive at this said time. The expectation, and reality, is that the guests start constellating much earlier (sometimes even from the morning to help with the preparations,) and in the same vein, some can even leave before the “official” start, or arrive very late. The point is to show up.

For anyone in mainstream culture, this might sound exhausting or downright horrifying. Imagine preparing an event for 100+ people and they start arriving hours before they were “supposed to.” The thing is, when Roma guests arrive they don’t expect to sit down and be “entertained.” They join in and help out. Preparations never lie solely on the shoulders of the host. The entire tribe is a family and, together, they make the magic of the celebration happen.

But many people who arrive early do end up mostly joking around with others, drinking coffee, and just hanging out. This is also part of the celebration: the slow burn.

Feeling the build-up.

Witnessing how the air electrifies even though everything is still objectively quiet and uneventful.