Gypsies, aka the Roma

As I learn more about Romania -- and it's like peeling a huge onion, with a seemingly infinite number of layers, trying to get to the core truth -- I am also learning more about the Gypsies, also known as the Roma.  I thought I'd share some of the things I am learning, as I learn it.


The Gypsies are a distinct ethnicity in Romania, and can generally be identified by their darker coloring and their shorter-than-average stature.  The Gypsies often dress differently too, the women often in long, colorful skirts.  The Romani are comprised of two subgroups:  the Roma and the Sinti.  The Roma are the Gypsies originating in Romania.

What really interests me is the treatment of the Gypsies in Romania.  I have recently learned that many of the schools in Romania are still ethnically segregated, with the Gypsies going to far inferior schools.  (Sound familiar?)


Here's some information from Wikipedia:

There is a sizable minority of Romani people in Romania, of 535,140 people or 2.46% of the total population (2002 census). The Roma are the most socially-disadvantaged minority group in Romania, even though there are a variety of governmental and non-governmental programs for integration and social advancement, including the National Agency for the Roma and Romania's participation in the Decade of Roma Inclusion. As an officially-recognised ethnic minority, the Romani people also have guaranteed representation in Parliament and official recognition of their language in localities where they make up more than 20% of the population.

Here's a little factoid that a friend in Romania sent to me:

An additional problem is that many Gypsy (Roma) do not have birth certificates (it's a pain in the neck here in Romania and even worse if you try to get one several months or years after the fact --  another long story, but suffice it to say that it doesn't work like it does in the U.S.).  The kids are not allowed to go to school because they don't have a birth certificate (i.e., they don't exist).  Here in Romania, the "paper" MAKES the reality; it doesn't just confirm the reality. And yes, that's the law. 

I think that's a fascinating -- and disastrous -- notion:  that documents make the reality, they don't just confirm it.  So if you don't have a birth certificate, you don't exist.  You can imagine the problems that could create in this modern era, for people who live as much outside the system as they can.

I am of course thinking about how all this will affect Ion, the three year old Gypsy.  As mentioned before, adoption is impossible, even if someone wanted him, he's not going to get a foster family because of his ethnicity.  I wonder what the future holds for him in terms of education, etc.

Right now he's being bounced around.  Last week he was in the CPS home for disabled children, then he was moved to the Barlad Children's Hospital.  Yesterday he was sent back to the home for disabled children, along with Alina, Ionut, and Cristi.  And remember, Ion is NOT disabled, and he's not sick.  He doesn't belong in either the home or the hospital, but there is nowhere else to put him.  <<sigh>>

International Adoptions

A lot of people have asked me if it is possible to adopt a child from Romania.  Sadly, the answer is no.  International adoptions were banned in 2007, and the government has been vehement about affirming that ban.


Perhaps even more sadly, domestic adoption is rare in Romania, probably because of a procedure that can make it all but impossible.


I asked a contact in Romania whether it is true that, even with domestic adoptions, family members have to consent, including grandparents, aunts and uncles, and attest that they do not want the child.  Here's his answer:

"Yes it is true. Also, the biological parents MUST show up in court (when and if they can be found) to give their personal consent at each stage of the adoption process (there are essentially 3 stages) and can decide to say, 'No!' at any one of those stages (including the final one). This requirement holds even for any person who has been 'stripped' of their parental rights, even if they don't want the child and have abandoned him. The family (and particularly the bio parents) retain the right to say, 'No!' to the child being adopted."

So, in short, international adoption is impossible, and domestic adoption is virtually impossible, even for children who have been abandoned and/or whose parent have had their rights terminated due to neglect or abuse, and even when there is nobody else in the world who wants that child.

Hristos a inviat!

At midnight the bells began ringing, and I could hear some even out here at the airport.

The television is showing scenes from the Patriarhia Romana in Bucharest and the Manastirea Sucevita in Moldova (where I want to go next trip to Romania), as well as the basilica and churches in Constanta, Brasau, and elsewhere in Romania.

The priests are moving among the thousands and thousands of people standing outside the churches and light their individual candles from large candles, while other priests sing the Mass.

For the remainder of the Holy Season, instead of the usual greetings (good morning, etc.), Romanians will say "Hristos a Inviat" to which the person will respond "Adevarat a Inviat" --

"Christ is risen"

"Indeed He is risen."

Easter In Romania: Sarbatoarea Invierii Domnului (Google-translate it!)

I don't have any pictures to share, but I thought I'd say a word about Easter in Romania.  It's really quite interesting.

Easter here is like Christmas and New Years combined at home.  Church services start on Friday, and the bells ring throughout the afternoon.  Most people go to church briefly on Friday, and Saturday is spent preparing an elaborate feast for that evening and Sunday.

On Saturday, the big moment is at midnight, but most people show up at the church at eight o'clock or so.  If you want to get inside, however, you had better plan on arriving around two o'clock.  Notice I didn't say "get a seat inside," just "get inside" -- there are no seats in a Romanian Orthodox church (which is what perhaps 95% of the people belong to).

Prior to going to church, most of the food will have been prepared, except the eggs, which have been boiled but which will be dyed just before the family leaves for the church.

At midnight the celebrations start in earnest.  The bells ring, and people head to the cemetery to visit relatives' gravesites and celebrate their resurrection.

Teenagers are allowed to stay out and party throughout the evening, though of course excessive carousing is frowned upon.  (I was told that this tradition of letting the young people stay out and party started during Communist days, when there were so few outlets for the young people and so few ways for them to have fun.)

I am watching the TV now, at 11:36pm Romanian time, and the major stations all have live coverage of the scene in front of various Orthodox holy places, including Patriaria Romana, Catedrala St. Josif, and the basilica in Moscova, in split screen.  It's like the New Year's Eve countdown, where they show you the scene at Times Square and elsewhere in the world as people wait for the clock to strike midnight.

After the gravesite visit, the family returns home to crack open the eggs.  The person whose egg has the strongest shell will live the longest, so the family makes sure a child gets that egg.  They eat the bread, the name of which I've forgotten, but which is kind of a babka.

Sunday it's back to church and then back home for more eating and celebrating.

The whole weekend shows you the centrality of religion and family in the lives of most Romanians, and it's very interesting, and touching . . .

11:47pm and counting . . .

Barlad Children's Hospital -- equipment and supplies

The staff at the Barlad Children's Hospital is, almost without exception, very kind and caring, and they work with very limited supplies and outmoded equipment.  They have some strange ideas -- drafts cause fever, that kind of thing -- but they do their best to keep the place clean and comfortable.

Below are some pictures of the rooms and equipment.

"Salon Urgente"

(Intensive Care Unit)

Typical bed in a typical room

Nurses' Station

The babies are fed herbal tea between bottles of formula, if they're

hungry; note that the bottles are glass.  These bottles are only

half-full because they are for Delia Ayana, Gabriela, and Ana Maria,

all newborns

One thing I don't have a picture of is the lunch room.  Mothers generally stay with their children while they are hospitalized, and at mealtime everyone troops down to the ground floor where they are served for lunch and dinner, on a typical day, soup, chicken, mashed potatoes, bread and water.  No special diets; everyone eats the same thing, from what I could see.  The mothers sit at four long tables with their children on their laps and feed them while they chat with the other mothers.  It's really very cozy.

Another child, another Delia

Global Volunteers employs Dan and Mihaela as our "country leaders" here in Romania.  Dan and Mihaela have a seven year old daughter, Delia, and she is just a delight.  She's beautiful, funny, and very stylish, as you can see from these photos.  (She also speaks a little English.)

Other Children in the Hospital

While here I have had the pleasure of meeting other Romanian children in the Barlad Children's Hospital, besides the children we serve.

Iolani

I am not sure that I am spelling this boy's name correctly, but I think his name is Iolani.  He was so helpful in the Tutova rooms, playing with the children, chasing the more active ones down the hall, etc.  He spoke a little English, and is just a lovely young man.  I think he's about fourteen years old.

Katirini & Iolani

After a couple of days an older boy started showing up in the Tutova rooms, ostensibly to check on Iolani, but I think because he wanted to help with the children too, if only to pass the time.  There is absolutely nothing for these children to do in the hospital:  no television, no video games, no board games, nothing.  Mostly they just lie in their beds staring at the ceiling, so the chance to chase a three year old down the hall, or hold an infant, doesn't look like such a bad deal!

The Tutova rooms are on the same hallway with the Psychiatric ward and the Neurology ward, and I am not sure which ward these boys were with.  (They didn't look like either psychiatric or neurology patients!)

I thought it was interesting that all the psychiatric and neurology patients, except Nadia, were gone by Thursday afternoon, presumably to spend the Easter weekend at home.  They have an amazing cure rate here!  :)