I had a free morning, without commitments, wow, at least
some hint of holiday. I did however, use half of it to prepare for the
rehearsal – those pieces I learned last time had finger-breaking ornaments, and
I had NOT done my homework properly L.
The remaining half of the day, well, staying in a hotel with a free spa, what
would one do other than go to the sauna, the Turkish bath and the Jacuzzi of
course.
Punctually at 3pm, Asan, my Roma trumpet friend came and
picked me up in a 'Roma taxi' which looked like it had seen better days. Instead of a rehearsal we went to the house of his acquaintance the
self-declared ‘Minister of Culture’ of Šutka. On the way through the aisle of
Šutka, we bumped into a wedding party, the bride in bright red-golden garments,
similar style to my outfit I bought last time in the Šutka market, was just
being picked up by a brass band surrounded by lots of family and friends,
dancing Čoček in the streets.
Asan’s friend Branko spend the afternoon to tell me, in his
best intentions, and in his best Macedonian-Serbian-Romany language, about his
mega project, which I think he made up on the spot, and of course I was right
away signed up to be his partner. According to him, I will, for the rest of my
life, tour around with his Romany Caravan and his crew, through Europe and the
world, make all the Gypsies into one nation, and infuse the whole world with
Macedonian Romany Culture, and my big role to knock onto the British minister of
culture's door and get some money…
I was incredibly proud of how much I understood, or
at least thought I understood, the rest to be taken best with not just a pinch
of salt.. With Asan afterwards we agreed ‘Branko kaže puno i pravi malo’ –
Branko talks a lot and does little…
Anyway, it was a cultural experience. At one point he called
all the young girls of his street in and made them dance for me. Poor girls,
they felt quite embarrassed, dancing Balkan belly dance, Čoček, and then
hip-hop, for me, a strange foreign lady who dropped in from a different planet…
As usual, every few minutes another member of their incredibly large family
walked in, said hello, stayed and joined the conversation for around 10
minutes, always trying to show off their 5 words of German, English, Italian,
which they learned when working abroad – I think I have not met a Macedonian,
who did not live and work in another country for a few years. All of them,
Romany or white, feel 100% unhappy with their government, feel they can not do
anything with their life’s here, and they feel stuck, tied to a place of
corruption and mismanagement.
In the evening I finally managed to meet up with my friend
Bojana, for more stories of being stuck in Macedonia. She at least had made
peace with Macedonia, after having spent lots of time in London, Singapore and
other places; she found her own corner, where she can get on with her music,
and not be too bothered about all which is negative.
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