Song of the Romani
"Djelem, djelem" was the song the wandering wolf sang. Its verses recalled hatred and bloodshed and senseless suffering that was inflicted upon his nomadic pack but it also spoke of the confidence of finding a new home, away from what anyone would consider home. You see the wandering wolf, whose name was Saban Stevanoski belonged to the pack which called themselves "Romani"- they were the children of the ancient Roman empire though the rest of Europe treated them with complete and utter disdain and outright hatred, which forced them into a modern-day exile. Saban's pack would often have to move out of a place they were not welcome only to find they were unwelcome in the new place as well.
Thus, the Romani would start out again thus beginning the whole process over again and it never stopped- these social outcasts would be in perpetual movement until the end of time, at least they believed. Even if they found a place that accepted them, their feet could not grow too cold before they would want to move again free across the uncharted wilderness. For it was the destiny of the Roma to be "ando drom"- a term from their language which meant "on the road" from the day they were born to the day they died. This destiny was reflected in the flag they erected at every stopping place- blue on the top half to represent the heavens, green on the bottom to represent the earth with a red "chakra" or wheel to indicate the perpetual movement across the earth. Saban knew very well that every country on the earth that the Romani wagons had wandered across. But he had also learned from an early age why friendship outside the Pack was not encouraged- for wherever the Roma stopped by, even for a temporary rest, they were hated.
For sure, the outside world had fallen in and out of love with the Romani packs, inventing a rainbow of terms in their languages, each one based on packs that lived nearby. In Spain, they were known as los Gitanos, the Germans knew them as Zigeuners, the Norwegians called them 'reisende' ('Travellers'), and the French called these packs "bohemienes' or 'Manouches'. The violins and clarinets of their music, as recent as American jazz or ancient as Northern Indian kathak, the exotic scents and spices of a passing group of nomads who traded with anyone who was willing to give them money, or for that matter, anything of value still enthralled the world. And in modern-day Europe, the Romani packs were beginning to make in-roads and outsiders were starting to become more understanding of the terrible things which befell these packs many years ago. Still, while the sight of the emblematic Romani wagon was an attractive site to some, it was not attractive to many others, as Saban had learned many years ago. And as the wolf had found out through the years, poverty was the one constant in life for the Romani, no matter what the majority called them and no matter their reaction to the wagons.
Across the camp, Saban's girlfriend, and hall the other young females were preparing for the day when they would be brides to a new generation of Romanos. Her name was Cigana, the most beautiful female in the pack. Her mother was the owner of the largest wagon in the Romani pack, filled with arcane potions and ingredients all designed to make her daughter the most attractive to any male who laid his eyes upon her as the pack continued its neverending journey through the steppes and forests of Eastern Europe, constantly gaining a new layer of mystery with each passing generation. There were incantantions and foods and drink recipes which Cigana's mother assured her would make her the most attractive she-wolf and able to give birth to as many cubs as she could, all created within the sanctity of the wagon. No one ever dared question her mother Maria's authority- she was the alpha female who could provide protection, love, fertility- all with a special recipe handed down from generations.
"Now I want you to know, my cub, the secret to life in this world, which the Romani know. Each and every single one of us, Roma or outsider has their own special star which follows them all the days of their life. Now we all hope that our star shines bright, giving us good health, money, prosperity but when that star dies out and does not shine any longer..."
"That is what the folls call death but that is what we call destiny",, the two answered in unison. It was a story that the Romani had known well, encapsulated in songs which beame social gatherings for all the members of the pack to congregate and sing their favorite songs, to the accompaniment of violins, clarinets, and hollowed-out gourds now used as drums. It was at one of these gatherings Cigana met Saban, whose sweet voice resonated the Romani anthem, as she joined the pack in singing.
"Djelem, djelem, lungone dromensa
Maladilem bakhtale Romensa
A Romale katar tumen aven,
E tsarensa bahktale dromensa?
A Romale, A Chavale
Vi man sas ek bari familiya,
Murdadas la e kali legiya
Aven mansa sa lumniake Roma,
Kai putaile e romane droma
Ake vriama, usti Rom akana,
Men khutasa misto kai kerasa
A Romale, A Chavale"
His voice was absolutely perfect and he could play the violin with unmatched vigor and beauty, the bow sliding up and down from his paws across the strings wondrously. He was strong physically, the son of the wheelwright, for whom carpentry was very important and he was one who honored the songs, stories, and traditions of elders- and Maria predicted that if the two were married they would make a perfect couple, capable of producing many wonderful cubs. And Cigana knew well the responsiblities of the Romana- birthing children. In doing so, Cigana would rise to an honored position like that of Maria and many would come to talk to her for advice and she would be the alpha female of this pack.
"Oh, Saban, there you are. You know in just a week, my mother will accept a bride price and the both of us will be married. You are the strongest and most handsome of all the yong men and many females would be thrilled to call you their husband." In her mind, she was already thinking of the foods, the pleasant dress, and the music of a Romani wedding and it was something that Saban often thought about as Cigana put her paw in his.
And there in the wild forest near the Balkans, Cigana and Saban felt at peace and away from the hate-filled ones with the blood-red eyes who victimized their ancestors mercilessly. In this savage and untamed wilderness, there was a Romani pack with their wagons, having found safety in a world that all too often sought to destroy them. For a pack such as theirs, there was simpy no place for them to call a permanent home yet perhaps that is the way the Romani wanted it, the itinerant wanderers of a world that alternately loved and hated them. And they both knew there would come a time when they would form a family and teach them the ways of Romani life- the rich heritage of the nomadic life they and their ancestors practiced. And yet many of them had been told a history of mindless suffering and death, sneseless suffering and persecution which marked their history. This culminated in the "Pojramos" which saw the death of more than half of the Roma population in Europe. And yet still the packs survive, in spite of centuries of mistreatment. And it was for this reason the Romani would sing and dance and wander the earth in their wagons, making their homes wherever they saw fit until the end of time.
But for now, all that Cigana and Saban could do was enjoy a long and wonderful kiss, their muzzles rubbing together as they prepared for the rest of their lives together. And there in the silence of a Balkan night, Saban and Cigana began to sing once more.
"Djelem, djelem."