Gypsy Roots Read online

Gypsy Roots

  Anne Luicrim

  Copyright 2015

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  In loving memory of my father, Aciu, Alexandru.

  Roots

  Once upon a time there was this young gypsy girl who travelled alone half the globe to settle in Australia. Her name was Rose Cooper and this is her story. Here she was, far away from her family and her country, single and reaching 25 years in a couple of weeks and yet to find her vocation in life. Not that she was complaining.

  She was an independently minded lassie who wasn’t yet ready for sharing. You know, space and time and money, enjoyment and sorrow. Not yet ready to be tied down. Some days she struggled with loneliness but according to her, life was a personal story that everyone can write it. Hers was waiting to be written. She thought that someone had told her that but could not recall who or how long ago. Must have happened in her childhood, she believed, as she has felt like that for ages. Secretly she hoped that it was something said to her by her parents and didn’t want to shed a light on the matter.

  Rose was born in Transylvania, a region of Romania located west of the Carpathian Mountains. According to the local tourism promoting materials the area had a beautiful landscape and rich history. However most tourists associate it with vampires since the movie adaption of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula or famous names such as Avram Iancu or the fairytale Corvin Castle. The locals thought of it as a land of mystery and magic.

  Rose’s parents, Carmen and Xavier, died in an airplane crash. She was only 9 years at the time. Her sister June was 6 years older. Grandma Letitia, although not in a great shape financially did her best to feed and generally care for them. From clothing to shelter and emotional nurturing she provided all, among other things.

  Rose was now 5 feet 6 inches tall and had a BMI of 23. In her grandmother’s circle of friends and extended family that was considered skinny or unhealthy. She had a different view on the matter. Rose was pleased with her healthy looking complexion, her light brown skin and long black curly hair. She was secretly delighted that people describe her big dark brown eyes as intense and mesmerizing. They said that she inherited her good features and temperament from the gypsy side of the family. The crazy thing was that Rose saw herself as the underdog, the person who beats the odds and would not consider for even a moment a different life. She finds life’s challenges invigorating and gets a kick out of them.

  During the college years she started to use number 535 L’Oreal Paris on her hair and had not been without it since. It’s a warm, glossy chocolate color and the best part of it is that she learnt to apply it herself. Hello, what else can a girl do today to keep up with the fashion? She will readily admit that she has tried to manage the art of manicure too but with less success. Then, and only then she decided to get professional help.

  Rose had a long time ago confessed to being nosy by nature and compelled to fix other people’s problems. As a child she was raised to be self sufficient and believe that there are no golden rules in life. That being said she strongly believes in learning from experience but not necessarily your own.

  Her father was a native Romanian. You know a descendent of Vlachs, the inhabitants of ancient Dacia which is roughly the space at the north of the Danube up to Ukraine at north, Hungary in the west and Black Sea in the east.

  The country adopted the name of Romania in 1878 and the language is Romanian, with a vocabulary of Latin origin. There has always been a lot of debate about the exact boundaries of the country as the tiny space has been under many occupations over the years.

  Maybe gymnastics fans associate Romania with the name of Nadia Comaneci. Other sport fans might recall names such as Ion Tiriac and Ilie Nastase. If France had Edith Piaf, Romania had Maria Tanase. And for those trying to keep young and overcome the accumulating years, I have no doubt that Gerovital, the ‘youth drug’ and Ana Aslan spring to mind when hearing about Romania. OK, that one is still controversial from what I understand.

  Rose’s grandma Letitia was born in Transylvania too but some would say that she is a woman of color; true gypsy or Romani, as they are also known by. Rose was always excited about her origins and put that to good use, even as a kid. Some years ago, while still in school Rose dealt with bullying by pretending to be knowledgeable in magic and tarot cards. When kids were not convinced by her story she would mention her grandma as Letitia had the reputation of a beautiful but strong and powerful tiganca (gypsy) who was good at spells. It was said that it was better not to mess with her if you appreciated your life. Everyone who wanted to look into their past or future appreciated Letitia’s in-depth knowledge of paranormal: from white and black witchcraft to charms, talismans, amulets and gemstones, Letitia was familiar with all.

  For an outsider it’s quite common to mix-up a Romani with a Romanian. A Romani person, formally known as gypsy has an Indian origin background and the language spoken is indo-Aryan with local influences.

  Although a light skinned Roma, grandma Letitia would never be able to pass as non-gypsy due to her peculiar fashion and vocabulary. In the city she could be mistaken for someone who became manic after forgetting to take her pills because Grandma Letitia has always been an assertive, energetic, outgoing, free-spirited woman, proud of her origins and with lots of enthusiasm for life.

  ‘Say, what? I’ve got zest for life’ she says.

  When left with the two young orphans she sold her Vardos and turned 180 degrees in her lifestyle. Bought a big brick and mortar house near a school and gave up the nomadic way of life. However Letitia made sure that the two young girls learned the gypsy traditions and she took them regularly to visit her extended family and friends who were still living in Vardos but insisted that the girls get a degree and speak a few languages fluently. She was very familiar herself with Romanian, Hungarian and a few Romani dialects.

  As a result of that Rose and June had never had the chance to complain about boredom. Grandma Letitia was never rich but never talked about money and the need to have a job. She diligently stressed the importance of looking and talking like a lady and getting married. She also believed in arranged marriages as other people from her generation and culture. But that’s another story!

  That actually meant that the girls spent a lot of time shopping, learning about makeup and when to toss out cosmetics, having color consultations and learning about what’s available in beauty parlors. There was no need for surgical enhancements. ‘Glamour my girls, where is the sparkle? Doll up! Spiff up!’ Rose recalls Letitia telling them, over and over again. Something out of a fairy story, huh?

  Don’t be mistaken, Letitia was not a submissive type; she was well spoken, and knew how to get what she wanted and at times she showed glimpses of diplomacy. The girls never saw her give up, feeling guilty or hopeless. ‘Savore si miste!’ (Everything is fine!) she used to say no matter what was happening and that was a fairly common situation while growing up. Even nowadays every time she talks to the girls she encourages them with the following words: ‘Girl, life is too short to waste it. Have you been this week at the beauty parlor? Doing anything special? ” Her ideas proved again a
nd again to be successful. They always feel better after talking to her. She might have been a shrink in a previous life.

  Rose was drinking her morning coffee and daydreaming when Target, the neighbor’s cat landed on her garden fence and jolted her back to reality. I learnt from the best, she concluded, but now I am reminiscing, it might be the effect of the southern hemisphere on me as I noticed that it’s happening quite often these days. Maybe a Coriolis effect on my thoughts, huh? An artifact of the earth’s rotation.

  After all, Rose had been living in Australia for about six months now and one would expect to get more accustomed to this place of Waltzing Matilda but for whatever reason she caught herself thinking about her grandma very often. It could be loneliness she admitted reluctantly, nothing to hide from. Only another six or seven months left and she’d be back home, she reminded herself. She was in tip top physical condition and she didn’t have a care in the world but she needed a brief pep talk to buster her mood and confidence. Nothing unusual. She was usually a chirpy and upbeat type of a person. Rose was making sure that she regularly did things to boost her happiness: she nurtured