Forget Swine Flu, It’s the Gypsy Epidemic
I like to think that I had a pretty normal childhood: finger painting, learning how to tie my shoes, setting up my first 401(k), diversifying my investment portfolio. (Normal enough, right? Come on, my mom couldn’t have been the only one who read The New Yorker to me before bed). It wasn’t until I watched Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame for the first time a few days ago that I realized that — maybe, just maybe — I was a little bit deprived as a child.
At first, I was mad that my mom never let me watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame (you bet your bottom dollar that I called her from half-way around the world to voice my complaints about how incomplete my childhood was because of this). But then I realized that it was probably in my best interest that I’d never seen this movie prior to moving to France. Why? Well, most girls my age claim that all Disney movies gave them unrealistic expectations about love (have you guys seen “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids”? That Wayne Szalinski is so dreamy). But for me, The Hunchback of Notre Dame would have given me unrealistic expectations about gypsies (yes, you read that correctly).
Think that all gypsies are beautiful Parisian belly dancers who can “see past your disfigured face and unsightly hunchback because you’re beautiful on the inside,” Esmeralda-types? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but think again. Most gypsies I’ve met in my time living in France don’t even have all of their teeth, let alone the ability to see past my hunchback (why can’t we just be friends, gypsies on the metro? Is that so much to ask?)
Seven months ago, I was entirely unaware of the Gypsy Epidemic (as I like to call it) that plagued both France and the greater European Union. As far as I was concerned, gypsies and hippies were one in the same: psychedelic flower children, likely re-named “Sunshine” or “Willow,” who could “literally feel the grass breathing.” It wasn’t until I had my first gypsy encounter in Paris that I realized gypsies were nothing like the gypsy/hippie hybrids I’d imagined in my head.
The European gypsies were in their own sad, toothless league. It was in Paris that this old, raggedy-looking woman approached my friend Chrissy and I in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was nothing like Disney had made it out to be. The gypsy woman wasn’t beautiful like Esmeralda and she wasn’t there to dance like a monkey for our entertainment. She handed us piece of paper that read: “I’ve got cancer, I’ve lost my husband in a terrible car accident, and my daughters are hungry.” World’s saddest story, right? Right.
But the thing with gypsies is that they lie, and for the most part, lack any moral compass. Knowing that, it’s hard to feel…anything for their sob stories. Gypsy woman, do you really have cancer? Did your husband really die? Did he decide to go on a drive on a particularly rainy night to surprise your daughters with a new doll for their birthdays? Do you even have daughters?
Despite my queries, it’s always polite to be…polite. So I (politely) tried to tell the woman in French that, as tragic as her story sounded, we didn’t have any money to spare…unless she accepted Visa or MasterCard (in which case, she was in luck! She didn’t laugh at my joke. Talk about a tough crowd). But she didn’t seem convinced.
That’s another thing about gypsies: they’re persistent. Every time you give the gypsies the “I’m Sorry” shrug (you know, the one where you shrug your shoulders with your hands in the air?) and start to walk away, they start to walk with you. Then, you feel bad. So, you try to muster up some change from the infinite abyss of your pockets, and all of a sudden – they call you “cheap” and tell you you’re “no good anyway” and refuse your money (as it turns out, beggars can be choosers). You just can’t win with gypsies!
You don’t want to be the heartless person who denies the cancer-stricken woman a few centimes to help feed her fatherless daughters, but you also don’t want to be the sucker who falls for the lamest trick in the book. What are you supposed to do when gypsies give you puppy eyes? Sing to you? Show you world’s smallest, saddest looking baby?
Easy: just (politely) ignore them – walk away. Don’t waste too much time trying to explain why you can’t help them in one-way or another. Every minute you fumble for the words in [insert foreign language here] is another minute they’ve spent distracting you, and ultimately one minute closer to unlawful ownership of your credit cards and pictures of your dog and Nana. I realize this sounds heartless, but if you’re that person – that person who gives the metro gypsies the time of day – then you’re just asking for it.
So, how do you avoid falling victim to a gypsy’s pick pocketing ploy? First and foremost, do not wear a fanny pack. Aside from the fact that they scream, “I’m a raging tool,” they also shout, “I’m a raging tool…and I’m not from around here.” Try not to carry your wallet in your back pocket either. Carry it in your front pocket and keep your hands in your pockets, too. Just be mindful of your surroundings: if someone asks you to “put your finger in this Chinese finger-trap” or if a herd of gypsy teens “accidentally” bumps into on the metro – it wasn’t without reason. They’re trying to steal your money and your dignity in one fell swoop.
If you can tell the gypsy women hounding you by the metros or by big, touristy sights that you don’t have anything for them and keep your belongings safely tucked away, then consider yourself in the clear. And if you’ve become so numb and jaded to the gypsy experience, consider yourself a true Californian transplant in Europe. Just remember: try your best to be polite (gypsies still people, after all) – until they start getting aggressive. Then feel free to get a little “oh no you didn’t (insert simultaneous Z-snap here)” Isla Vista on them.
Do you understand now why I would’ve never been able to fully enjoy my time abroad if I’d seen The Hunchback of Notre Dame before I moved to France? Seeing a gypsy act like a dejected, toothless vagabond would’ve destroyed everything Disney had ever thought me to be true (Me? Exaggerative? No). It would’ve been like finding out that Santa doesn’t exist, you know? Sweet, lovely Esmeralda would’ve never tried to pick pocket you. Seduce you with her belly dancing? Maybe. Fall in love with a disfigured hunchback? Sure. But rob you blind? Never.
9 Responses to “Forget Swine Flu, It’s the Gypsy Epidemic”
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Can’t believe you been so ignorant. Why are you generalizing a whole ethnic group? It seems like you are a person full with prejudices and stereotypes … have you ever did some researches on this group? Did you ever look behind your perfect pink world?
the thing with this is article it’s meant to be taken light-heartedly. there was no naming of specific ethnic groups or nationalities (i was using the word “gypsy” in the way that walt disney…or john matthew used the word), and it wasn’t meant to be malicious or hateful. i’m pretty sure i even said to be polite because gypsies are still people, after all.
peppered with anecdotes that actually happened to us while traveling, i was merely recounting my experiences and trying to help others from falling victim to pick-pocketing or petty theft (which happens frequently to a lot of people i know). i won’t apologize for writing this (with or without “research”), but i will apologize if it offended you because that was not my intent.
Thank you for your response! Yes, it kinda offended me and i accept your apologize regarding that. You can visit our blog http://romassn.blogspot.com, if you like to get some info.
Keep it safe!
i posted this on the daily nexus site, but i’d like to reiterate my sincerest apologies if this piece offended anyone.
after much thought and reflection, i’d like to say this to you all reading: my original intent when writing this article was not to write about race, to come across as racist, or to target the romani people in any way, shape, or form. if it came across as such, i’m genuinely sorry about that.
the article was originall written for student travelers as a “how to” not get pick pocketed in dense, touristy areas around europe (my example being paris). the term “gypsy” (as an adjective, referring to that nomadic and unconventional lifestyle rather than an ethic group of people) is one that is commonly used in france to refer to the pick-pockets. after being abroad for so long, i had failed to grasp the racial undertones of the word “gypsy” and did not fully understand the meaning or significance of the word outside of this context.
again, it was not my intention to be blatantly racist against any group of people – especially the romani in france. i have nothing but respect for the people i have met during my time traveling throughout europe.
Ms Tran,
I am writing this letter in hope that you will pull this awful article. You portray Roma in two dichotomies: exotic belly-dancers and Disney-esque Esmerelda, and then poor Rom who don’t have any employment much less dental insurance.
You are of Vietnamese American descent, and obviously
studying in international affairs. I would expect more cultural sensitivity in these matters.
This blog will attract racists who claim the usual
stereotypes. Please take a chance to learn about Roma,
for real. Thank you.
Over a half of million Roma died in the holocaust, please do not feed neo-Nazi sentiment. Its wrong.
Dear Drea,
While I respect the fact that you did not mean to offend, the problem is your original use of the word ‘gypsy’ itself, the word – which is in the English language – was brought into usage probably in the late middle ages and then became more common and spread during Victorian times as a term to define ‘nomadic groups’ within the British empire (which included huge swathes of Asia and Africa). But just who writes these entries in English language dictionaries today??
Romani people(s), who have rich oral traditions and culture, and a language even older than many modern European languages have been misunderstood, misrepresented and vilified for centuries. They also underwent centuries of slavery in the regions of what is now present day Moldavia and Wallachia – Romania (this is not written up in Europe’s historical record unfortunately). As a history student learning French, perhaps you would like to write a paper one day on contemporary French Romani history, which would raise the whole issue of biological racism a la the infamous ‘carnet anthropometrique’ regime (which was introduced in 1912 and only discontinued in 1969). Or perhaps you can write an original paper on the treatment of Roma in Vichy France during WWII? In any case, I do hope this email gives you some food for thought. The use of the word ‘gypsy’ as you use it must be discontinued if we are to overcome centuries of mis-representation.
Salut !
Esmeralda
I think I commented on your abridged article But now I read your full article and realized more fully what a cold hearted NAZI you really are. No apology will cut it. Maybe you should do some soul searching. You just called me and my entire family an epidemic. Whats your “final solution” global studies major, another holocaust. I feel sorry for you really, because you must also be a bit stupid as a journalist to post this. Did you know there are Gypsies in college like me. Some people have a stereotype that all Asians are smart, well good for you defying that stereotype by making a complete ass of yourself.
An newsworthy treatment is couturier note. I judge that you should make more on this message, it strength not be a preconception theme but generally people are not sufficiency to communicate on specified topics. To the next. Cheers like your Forget Swine Flu, It’s the Gypsy Epidemic | Daily Nexog.