Real Rroma Stuff
You don’t give a shit about Rromani issues until you watch your part-Rrom sweetheart get turned away from of business establishments for being a gypsy.
Dedication
This is my muse and my husband. He is my best friend and we’ve shared many travels together. His late father, a highly successful industrial farm owner who was loved by his community, tried very hard to protect his children from the stigma of their heritage. Most of the children were successfully assimilated into white American culture. My husband on the other hand, was never able to pass. He observed too many of his father’s repressed cultural habits. I think his father only wanted his son to break the cycle of poverty and misery so many unassimilated Rroma people endure. It was still hurtful nonetheless. My husband went to visit his Poland once, to see where his ancestors came from. To this day refuses to return to that country, in spite of my desire to visit. It was obvious that he was a Cygan to those who weren’t tourists and the bitter treatment of prejudice that he received never ceased to haunt him. To this day, my husband sighs at forms asking for demographic information where he can’t pick “other” and has to choose “white” by default.
My beloved was too inquisitive about his roots and knew too much to be able to claim that he was simply just half-Polish and half-German. ”You don’t want people to think we’re gypsies,” was his father’s often repeated mantra. The fear while understandable for someone whose family escaped the prejudice of European culture, grated upon my husband. He saw photos of his travelling ancestors, but was not told anything meaningful about them and eventually most of the photos disappeared. After he met the Kalderash kumpania that held the key to his secret heritage at a carnival that came to his town, he couldn’t deny the truth. When he met his tribe as a high schooler, he was labelled gadje because of his inability to speak Rromanes. He solved that problem rather quickly by stealing a knife from the person flinging the slur and handing it to the chieftain. My husband had the choice between going with a caravan full of distant relatives or staying with his immediate family. He resentfully chose his immediate family and the only world he had known.
When I met him, he embodied every stereotype of the dirty gypsy: An obnoxiously loud, sexist, knife-wielding hooligan with a seemingly insatiable taste for mostly blonde chicks and things he could not have; bad teeth and all. I could not stand him, especially since those in my family with Calo Rroma blood defied the stereotypes by being decent people. Nonetheless, my Rrom was persistent and determined to be with me. When my marriage to my first husband was on the verge of collapse, that dirty gypsy actually abducted me and delivered me to my mother. He was sick of my ex’s abuse towards me, and it was a choice between getting me out of there, or stabbing the bastard.
My parents were both kind of nervous about me marrying a gitano, but they were very supportive. Marrying him was kind of strange. We never officially dated. I didn’t really love him, and I made that very clear. He didn’t care, to him marriage was a transaction and he felt that I was interesting, prosperous, hard-working and useful in the kitchen; that was good enough for him. My being pretty was just a trophy. When I finally married, I realized that the dirty gypsy, was not poor or useless. After enduring a few rocky years, (mostly family issues on his side and not anything either one of us were doing wrong,) my husband has proven himself to be the kind of husband that women kill for. Before I married him, I did not realize that the biggest preoccupation a Rrom has is to excel as husband. As it turns out, he lived up to that stereotype while growing out of the rest. His teeth are absolutely beautiful now and the only thing that makes him look like a ball of filth is fixing irrigators, climbing grain towers, piling potatoes and generally working hard at his late father’s farm.
The Rromani people are human. They are not Renaissance festival caricatures, mythical beings or genetically predisposed to be horrible people. Just like other humans they are capable of good and evil; success and failure. When presented with the right conditions, gypsies can not only overcome the expectations of their stereotypes; they can also excel and prove themselves great successes. Unfortunately, too many people of Rromani descent, like my husband’s late father, are too afraid of the stigma to succeed without being ashamed of their heritage. Too many Rromani people are faced with prejudice so great, they have little hope of success, so the fear is justified. I am grateful that my love didn’t have to abandon his to make something amazing of himself. His often annoying, sometimes sexist but ultimately wonderful cultural roots are among my favorite things about him.
This work is dedicated to him.
Thank you so much for posting this. I was fascinated by the Rromani when I was in highschool because, to me, they led the ideal life – traveling from place to place, being independent, and able to practice magic and the old ways without hiding. When I learned they were a closed culture and that cultural appropriation would be highly disrespectful, I kind of just.. stopped studying, like it was invasive for me to wonder. But I really appreciate this inside view you’ve given us! I had no idea there was so much discrimination and struggle involved. Thank you again for the continued education!
My pleasure.
This graphic novel is something of a labor of love, so that means a lot for me to hear. I go through great lengths to make sure things are as culturally accurate as they can possibly be in each page, without sacrificing the story. It’s too easy to fall into the trap of demonizing or idealizing, so I try to keep a balance.
If you want to learn more about Rroma culture, be sure to read the notes under the comics — there are a lot of interesting research notes that you might find informative. Having my husband as a co-writer and consultant has been an amazing blessing for me. The Rromani are part of a closed culture it’s true. Sadly. a huge reason for that is the prejudice they face. I strongly feel that fighting that bigotry and helping non-assimilated Rromani break the cycle of misery they face is key to gaining a greater understanding of them.
I am so pleased that you enjoyed the dedication. My husband actually started tearing up when he read it. He told me, “You make me sound like a hero.” As far as I’m concerned, he is.
Unfortunately, it is only through hiding our culture that very much of it still survives. Your curiosity and interest in gypsy ways are by me at least, appreciated. (I say gypsy, cause I am a gypsy. Or Rom if you like.)
That was amazing to read, and beautifully done. You have such a way with words, and you and your beloved are an inspiration! *HUGS*
Thank you Trish, that means a lot to both my honey and I, especially coming from you. Welcome to Rasputin Barxotka, and thanks for your first comment here. I hope you enjoy your visit. This is an unusual and somewhat bitter comic, but it’s quite the read.
Absolutely beautiful. I don’t have the words to adequately describe how much this touched me. Your husband is absolutely a hero. He decided to keep his cultural heritage, making it a part of himself. Yet no matter what he suffered for it, he never gave in. He serves as an example to every repressed culture that it is possible to continue. I say bravo.
Thanks man. In my experience, it’s the people who get knocked down, oppressed, and generally marginalized that rise the highest when the time comes.
I will pass your message along to Loki. I am sure that he will be as delighted to read it as I am.