Vela's grand Limo ride from the crisis center
or how the Romani roll like royalty
Pepi’s niece Vela has a spirit of pure fire.
We’ve shared many stories about her. How she made a reporter feel uncomfortable with her sass, as she was walking into the unknown - pregnant - away from her house that had just been demolished. How she shut up a mean municipality worker who tried to shame her relative for her “too many children,” by proclaiming loudly that the Romani have a lot of sex. How, on her own wedding day, she gave Martina one of the simplest and most powerful pieces of advice as a conflict between the men was escalating: “Be a woman.”
But what encapsulates Vela’s spirit the best is her recent insistence to book a limo.
It was a fierce statement of defiance, pride, and love.
A boy turned 9 months
What was the occasion? Vela’s grandson was turning 9 months and she decided to combine this date with a traditional ritual called “pogacha” that involves breaking a special, round loaf of bread over the head of the baby - for good health and fortune.
It’s a Bulgarian tradition that the Romani here have adapted into their culture. And while in the Bulgarian tradition, this is a quiet and humble celebration with immediate family, for the Romani it’s neither quiet, nor humble. The “immediate family” of a Roma person involves the entire tribe. And if they’re celebrating someone’s health and fortune, they make sure they do it in a way that the Gods can hear them.
Vela, in particular, embodies this spirit in full. The whole reason she and Nicky got married was for social housing purposes. It was in a conversation with the municipality that Martina accompanied them to where they were told that they will not be given social housing as a family because they were not legally married. At this point, they had been together for over 15 years and had 4 children. As they were leaving the municipality office, they decided to get legally married. It was a short conversation, a no-brainer. But they didn’t just go to sign the paperwork and have it over and done with in 2 days. They threw a traditional Roma wedding, that took about 10 months to plan, organize, and save for.
Then why bother with the gold and glamor? To outsiders, it might seem that it’s all for show. But where most people would say “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing poorly,” the Romani say “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing properly.”
In other words, you either do it or you don’t do it. And if you do it, you really do it.
From “How do the Romani afford lavish celebrations despite living in extreme poverty?”
So, when Vela decided to celebrate her grandson’s 9 months, she went all out.
She booked a restaurant. She printed official invitations. She booked a musician, a band, and a live orchestra to “beat the drums” for the boy.
And, she booked a limo.
The looming eviction notice
Here is some background to illustrate the boldness of this celebration. Ever since their house in the Roma ghetto was demolished, Vela and her family have been living in a run-down social housing building that they had to personally repair from fire damage. Vela’s blind cousin would constantly fall from the second floor, due to the many holes, through her roof and into her room. One time, he broke his leg.
The house is unfit for living, and the municipality has been trying to find a way to evict the people it put there without taking any formal responsibility. Last year, it successfully evicted Vela’s aunt Todorka with her blind son and her grandchildren by trying all kinds of bureaucratic tricks. And this year, it served a final eviction notice to Vela and Nicky.
This was not the first eviction notice. We’ve all lost count which number it is. Vela and Nicky appealed several times. But now, it’s final. They have nowhere to go. Despite getting legally married, they were not given housing.
Facing homelessness at the brink of winter, they didn’t plunge into despair. They threw a massive celebration because their grandson was turning 9 months.
The boldness of the limousine
The restaurant Vela booked is in the Roma quarter. The preparations for the celebration: hair, make up, dressing up, took place in the crisis center where the majority of our tribe has been living since their homes were demolished.
The distance between the crisis center and the Roma quarter is about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles.) Vela booked a limo for 1 hour and its purpose was to drive her and her family from the crisis center to the restaurant. The cost was 150 BGN (83 USD.) They were already spending a lot on the celebration. An extra 150 BGN was a drop in the bucket.
The limo spent the majority of the hour waiting in front of the crisis center as Vela and the family were dancing to the drums of a Roma orchestra in a room indoors.
Adjacent to the crisis center is a police station. Several policemen walked up to the limo and took pictures and videos. Who knows what for. But for sure, if they thought they had “seen it all,” Vela showed them they were wrong.
The crisis center is the most unlivable place we’ve ever seen. Constant power cuts, bug infestations like from a horror movie, doors that don’t lock, missing sinks and plumbing, no furniture, preying policemen, preying reporters. Rain bursts down the stairs from the holes in the roof.
The Romani were forced to live here with a very clear purpose. The erasure of their dignity. The municipality wants them to scatter and magically disappear.
But they neither scatter nor disappear. They roll up a limo and board it dressed like kings and queens, on their way to celebrate a new baby’s 9-month milestone.
“Whose idea was this?” Martina asked after Vela called us to help her find a limo service. “Vela’s or Nicky’s?”
“Vela,” Pepi said. “This is all Vela.”
In the face of eviction, threats, and violence, Vela never shrinks. This is what drives outsiders crazy about the Romani. The unapologetic joy. The fierce, unshakable dignity.
Whatever happens, they stand tall. They put tiaras and gold on their women. And they celebrate each other so loud that the Gods can hear.
