Saturday, September 17, 2011

L'important, c'est la rose



One more day 'till I'll be in London. Leaving everything behind... Everything including one week of intense and remorseless romance, We will, indeed, keep in touch; maybe not in "that way"- but we certainly will. Maybe it would never have worked out, even if there wasn't the impending fact that tomorrow I'll be on a plane to London, still carrying with me the feel of his hands on my body; it's not something I want to think about right now. All I know is that it's been pure beauty and I'm happy and proud to have lived it.

One more night of sleep 'till I'll start a completely new life.

L'important, c'est la rose.

Friday, September 9, 2011

My Gypsies

I've seen my favourite gypsy punk band live tonight. I wanted to hear them one more time before I leave the country. I danced like crazy with a bunch of fans- among whom many Gypsies, including one very charming little girl in traditional attire. I had fun. I got a bit teary-eyed at that jazzy song about a girl who travels in search of her destiny.I'm happy now.

I like Gypsy art.

I like Romano Butiq- the band that I've seen live tonight


I like this cheesy song that makes me laugh on my worst bad hair day:



I like Cirque Romanes, whom I've only seen online and on TV, but whose shows I hope to see someday:



I like Goran Bregovic, Gogol Bordello, Balkan Beat Box and Dubiozza Kolektiv. I like my Gypsy-style bracelets I bought at a fair. I like most of the stuff on this website.

Among the people I've met and who inspire me, there are a lot of Gypsies; including a very talented actress who had it rough in life more than most of us ever will, the band that makes me dance and dream, a psychologist who does ballet in her free time and two university professors. My Gypsies.

I get angry when people are prejudiced against Gypsies; I get angry at discrimination and hate speech. I feed the trolls when I shouldn't. I get angry when the same people who complain about how Romanians are seen abroad make about Gypsies the same sweeping and unkind generalisations they don't enjoy being made about themselves- and fail to see the irony. I get angry because "gypsy-like" is a common Romanian expression meaning "tacky". I get angry that a lot of time I find myself bringing up in conversation the art that I love or the people that I admire, only to be told "Oh, have you heard about such-and-such crime on TV that happens to be committed by a Gypsy?". As a sociologist with a penchant for critical theory and semiotics you learn to notice these things. A bit too much, maybe.

For every act of prejudice and discrimination, for every stupid "Die gypsies" troll comment on a blog, for every "damn Gypsies are an embarrassment for this country"- let it be known that one of the things I will miss the most leaving my country are my gypsies.

PS: Alina, I hope you got the acting school scholarship you needed; I'd be happy to have at least on of my gypsies in London with me.