How the Romani give from an empty wallet
On the boundless generosity in Roma culture
Before Martina fell in love with Pepi and married into our tribe, she spent a few months advocating for several of Pepi’s siblings, nephews, and nieces on administrative problems. She accompanied people to municipalities, institutions, and lawyer’s offices, she helped prepare documents, and she led many battles against racist bureaucrats who were attacking the tribe from countless angles.
All this involved a lot of idle moments. A lot of waiting, a lot of car and bus rides, a lot of walking from one building to the other. It was in these moments that Martina started getting a glimpse into the nature of the Romani.
One time, Martina spent an entire afternoon with Pepi’s niece Vela, and her husband Nicky. Here’s a brief story from that day.
Vela and Nicky had to file very important paperwork but were being given the runaround by municipality workers. We spent hours driving from one place to the next, filling out documents, waiting in line to file. Vela and Nicky had only a few coins, which they spent on buying coffee for the three of us, first thing we met. They were expecting their salaries that day. We made several stops at ATMs throughout the afternoon, so they could check if their money had arrived. At around 5:00 PM, the money was finally there. Out of the expected sum of around 700-800 BGN, they had received in total about 200 BGN. They had both been penalized by the street cleaning company they were employed at. They also owed money to the loan sharks that rule over the neighborhood. With the money they were able to withdraw, they weren’t even going to be able to cover the full payment they owed to the loansharks.
So what did they do after they withdrew the money?
It was cold outside, so Vela took me to their car. While we were chatting, Nicky bought pizzas and soft drinks for all of us. We ate them and chatted for about an hour. Nicky announced he’ll quit the street cleaning job. Then, they took me to a taxi and Vela pressed a bank note in my hand, to cover the fare. I refused. “I don’t mind taking the bus, it’s only a 30-minute ride.” But Vela insisted. They wanted to make sure I get home safely, she said. I traveled home with the taxi and paid with Vela and Nicky’s hard-earned and already spoken-for money.
Every outing with Vela and Nicky involved a treat. Even if it was their last money, even if Martina refused, even if Martina offered to buy coffee or food this time, they always insisted that the treat was on them. During these months, Martina, Vela, and Nicky spent a total of many, many hours on benches, sidewalks, buses, and cars, having coffee or lunch, and talking.
Martina thought their generosity was a thank-you for her help with the administrative hell they were dealing with.
But this was before she married into the tribe. She was yet to learn that this generosity is not conditional and not in exchange for anything. It is simply part of the Romani soul.
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