Created by gailkavanagh
Gail Kavanagh is a writer living in Queensland, Australia.
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The Gypsies of Lemuria love to sing, dance and tell tales around the campfire. Join us and listen to our songs and stories and learn a little Gypsy lore.
The Lemurian Gypsy Camp is part of the Soul Food Cafe Community.Lemurian Links
- Lemurian Abbey
- is a divine sanctuary across the lake from the City of Ladies. This lake is not unlike Lake Como in Northern Italy and is home to votaries of the Soul Food Way.
The Abbess (Heather Blakey's alter ego) welcomes all comers and encourages residents to give bricks to ensure the growth of this virtual sanctuary by shopping here.
The Abbess (Heather Blakey's alter ego) welcomes all comers and encourages residents to give bricks to ensure the growth of this virtual sanctuary by shopping here. - The Gypsy Camp Blog
- There's a wealth of fine writing and art by the Soul Food Community here as well as fascinating resources of Gypsy lore.
- City of Ladies
- The migration of the Soul Food Community to the City of Ladies has seen a fresh outpouring of inspiration. There's a Gypsy Camp here as well - just click on the category.
Learning the Romany Language and Culture
There are a few places on the web where you can pick up Romany words and phrases to sprinkle into your conversation...try these links...
- Romany Dictionary
- Intended for gamers, this is a very useful list of Romany words because it is quite comprehensive and shows you how to pronounce the letters.
- Romani
- Lots of useful information here - a Romani dictionary and phrasebook, as well as a list of names - so useful for writing stories!
- Pesha's Gypsy Blog
- Pesha is a Romany Gypsy in the UK, and keeps her blog to promote a positive image of the Rom Nation. The articles are varied, fascinating and moving. I particularly loved Dick Jones' poem Aunt Ellen's Death. A very good place to discover what life is like for gypsies in the 21st century.
Gypsy Musicians
Gypsy music has its roots in many traditions, creating a vibrant multi layered musical experience. From the foot tapping rhythms of Spain, to the heart wring ballads of Ireland, Gypsies have done so much to make music a shared international pleasure.Through the centuries, Gypsy musicians and entertainers roamed all over the world, and some have become world famous.
One of the most famous Gypsy musicians was jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt. A brave man as well as a fine musician, he overcame debilitating burns received in a caravan fire to become one of the world's great jazz musicians. His collaboration with violinist Stephan Grappelli, who busked in the streets of Paris as a youth, is a musical legend today.
Reinhardt travelled the world, but spent his last years living the Gypsy life, finding that trying to adjust to modern living. He died in 1953.
Manitas de Plata ( the name means little silver hands - his birth name is Ricardo Baliardo) was born in a caravan in France in 1921. He always held himself in awe of Reinhardt and only agreed to play in public after Reinhardt's death. Today he is regarded as one of the greatest flamenco guitarists in the world, and he was declared by Picasso to be a greater artist than himself.
The Gypsy Kings are arguably today's most famous Gypsy band. These exuberant musicians - the five Reyes brothers and the three Baliardos Brothers - bring joy wherever they travel in the world.
But Gypsy music isn't staying in the past. Young Gypsies are forming bands more in tune with the modern world, such as New York punk band Gorgol Bordello. These boys are punks with a message - leader Eugene Hutz is working with empowering young Roma through hip hop music, and made a moving film about the Ukraine with Lord of the Rings star Elijah Wood in 2005 called Everything Is Illuminated.
Gypsies and the Holocaust
Like the Jews, the Gypsies have long been a persecuted people. The Nomadic life was forced on the Jewish people when they were expelled from Israel and no country would give them a permanent home. Gypsies chose to be nomads, and live outside settled society. Both paid a terrible price for being shunned in World War II under Hitler's fascist regime.The Romany call the Holocaust Porrajmos - the `devouring' - a time when lives were devoured without pity by the Nazis and those who favoured them. No one knows how many Romany perished in death camps during the war - no records were kept - but it is generally believed to be one quarter to half a million.
For a long time after the war, the deaths of Romany, and many other people of various cultural background, sexual orientation and colour, who were included in the holocaust, received little attention.
But on May 7 2007 a memorial was held for the people who had died at the Roma Concentration Camp at Lety in the Czech Republic, and lately there has been much recognition of the suffering of the Romany during World war II.
Later that year, on October 23, Romanian President Traian Bsescu apologised for his country's part in the Porrajmos, and spoke part of it in the Romany language.
There is an online exhibit of the Romany Holocaust at http://www.historywiz.com/gypsyplague.htm
Many books has been published on the Porrajmos, including Guenter Lewy's The Nazi Persecution of the Gypsies, Paul Polansky's Black Silence, The Lety Survivors Speak, and a memorial book of the The Gypsies at Auschwitz-Birkenau, published by the State Museum of Auschwitz-Birkenau, all available at Amazon.com
Gypsy Fortune Telling
Can Gypsies really foretell the future? Can they really know who you are from the lines in your hand?
To truly understand why Gypsies seem to have mysterious powers, you have to understand how they live. Gypsies live very lightly in the world - they do not build anything, nor are they overly attached to possessions or places. They roam freely through it all, and living very close to nature heightens your senses about certain things.
Older country people, you may have noticed, have no trouble predicting the weather. ``It'll rain," they say, while you look up at a cloudless blue sky in disbelief. But they noticed the little signs that point to a change in the weather - for example, spiders that build their webs in the corners of verandahs will retreat into the shelter of the eaves and take their captured food with them.
A Gypsy that lives truly free and one with the elements grows up keenly aware of these signs. Gypsies mimic nature by leaving easily overlooked signs for their fellows to show which way they have gone. They call these signs `patrin'.
They become very observant in other ways as well. It is not hard for a gypsy, basically as disinterested in the affairs of society as animals are in the affairs of men, to sniff which way the wind blows - just as animals know when we are around and plan to make a nuisance of ourselves.
A human hand can offer so much information that you may not even need to know how to read the lines. No use removing your wedding ring to fool a gypsy. Those sharp eyes will spot where it has been. They will also spot tiny calluses, scars and other marks that proclaim your profession.
Does this mean the lines in your hand have nothing to say? Oh no, because Gypsies believe that everything is connected and know that folk whose hearts rule their heads have a deep corresponding line across their palms.
If Gypsies seem to have more sixth sense than others, it is because they understand acutely how much we are part of nature, and how our story becomes written in our hands, our faces, and everything we touch.
To truly understand why Gypsies seem to have mysterious powers, you have to understand how they live. Gypsies live very lightly in the world - they do not build anything, nor are they overly attached to possessions or places. They roam freely through it all, and living very close to nature heightens your senses about certain things.
Older country people, you may have noticed, have no trouble predicting the weather. ``It'll rain," they say, while you look up at a cloudless blue sky in disbelief. But they noticed the little signs that point to a change in the weather - for example, spiders that build their webs in the corners of verandahs will retreat into the shelter of the eaves and take their captured food with them.
A Gypsy that lives truly free and one with the elements grows up keenly aware of these signs. Gypsies mimic nature by leaving easily overlooked signs for their fellows to show which way they have gone. They call these signs `patrin'.
They become very observant in other ways as well. It is not hard for a gypsy, basically as disinterested in the affairs of society as animals are in the affairs of men, to sniff which way the wind blows - just as animals know when we are around and plan to make a nuisance of ourselves.
A human hand can offer so much information that you may not even need to know how to read the lines. No use removing your wedding ring to fool a gypsy. Those sharp eyes will spot where it has been. They will also spot tiny calluses, scars and other marks that proclaim your profession.
Does this mean the lines in your hand have nothing to say? Oh no, because Gypsies believe that everything is connected and know that folk whose hearts rule their heads have a deep corresponding line across their palms.
If Gypsies seem to have more sixth sense than others, it is because they understand acutely how much we are part of nature, and how our story becomes written in our hands, our faces, and everything we touch.
Romany Funerals
Perhaps one of the nicest thing about Romany life - and one the rest of society would do well to adopt - is the absence of squabbling over the possessions of a deceased loved one.
The reason for this is that, when a person dies, everything of theirs is traditionally destroyed. Everything that can ignite is burnt, while other possessions, such as plates and pots, are broken up so they are rendered useless.
In the past, a true Romany funeral meant the dead person's caravan was burnt to the ground with everything they possessed inside. This did not include the body, as some have believed. That was buried with all due rites.
One reason for this may date from the Middle Ages, when widespread infections such as the plague were common. Living close to nature gave gypsies the edge on understanding how nature works - they knew that a contamination in the body often spread to everything the sick person had touched. So by burning everything connected to that person, they protected the rest of the tribe from the sickness. Such contamination spread from the dead to the living was called `marime' and this incorporates many gypsy beliefs about the afterlife.
Later this ritual burning had less to do with infection and more to do with preserving harmony in the tribe - for if the dead's possessions are destroyed in this way, then there cannot be that unseemly squabbling over legacies that mars the Gadjo families.
In 2003, Joseph Smith became the last Gypsy in Europe to receive these ancient rites. Smith, a well known Welsh gypsy, died at the age of 82 at Brecon in Wales.
Joseph's body was buried at the local church, then the mourners, who had come from all over the British Isles and Ireland, returned to the campsite to burn his caravan and all his possessions. The caravan was decorated with white candles and white sheets were spread over the seat and windows before it was burned.
Joseph was so loved by his tribe that he was known as the `King'. Thus the media proclaimed this as the last traditional funeral of a Gypsy King.
The reason for this is that, when a person dies, everything of theirs is traditionally destroyed. Everything that can ignite is burnt, while other possessions, such as plates and pots, are broken up so they are rendered useless.
In the past, a true Romany funeral meant the dead person's caravan was burnt to the ground with everything they possessed inside. This did not include the body, as some have believed. That was buried with all due rites.
One reason for this may date from the Middle Ages, when widespread infections such as the plague were common. Living close to nature gave gypsies the edge on understanding how nature works - they knew that a contamination in the body often spread to everything the sick person had touched. So by burning everything connected to that person, they protected the rest of the tribe from the sickness. Such contamination spread from the dead to the living was called `marime' and this incorporates many gypsy beliefs about the afterlife.
Later this ritual burning had less to do with infection and more to do with preserving harmony in the tribe - for if the dead's possessions are destroyed in this way, then there cannot be that unseemly squabbling over legacies that mars the Gadjo families.
In 2003, Joseph Smith became the last Gypsy in Europe to receive these ancient rites. Smith, a well known Welsh gypsy, died at the age of 82 at Brecon in Wales.
Joseph's body was buried at the local church, then the mourners, who had come from all over the British Isles and Ireland, returned to the campsite to burn his caravan and all his possessions. The caravan was decorated with white candles and white sheets were spread over the seat and windows before it was burned.
Joseph was so loved by his tribe that he was known as the `King'. Thus the media proclaimed this as the last traditional funeral of a Gypsy King.
The Gypsy and the Horse
In spite of the usefulness of cars and trucks, there remains a close historic tie between gypsies and horses. A gypsy could usually find work as a horse dealer or handler in the past, and gypsies developed one of the strongest and gentlest horse breeds in the world - the Gypsy Cob.
The gypsies and their horses developed a closer bond than other horse owners for a number of reasons, the main one being that the two lived much closer in day to day existence. Gyspies had no stables so the horses lived around the caravans and were part of the everyday life of the camp. Children played with them, adults stopped to pet them and they were constantly aware of the movement of humans around them.
Gypsies practiced the `horse whisperer' style of breaking and training. I was priveleged once to watch this in action.
A young mare, who had been badly frightened as a foal and refused to lead, had been sent to the knacker's yard. She was bought for a small amount of money by a traveller, along with the advice that she would never be any good.
It took all the morning even to get her loaded into a horse box. She was in a constant state of terror, wouldn't lead and wouldn't let anyone touch her head without a fight.
The traveller built a small enclosure and turned her loose in this. Everyday for a week, he would visit her, and spend time talking to her. She had no food or water in the enclosure. She could only drink from a bucket held by her new master and eat from his hand.
By the end of the week he was sitting on the fence, with no sign of her usual panic. The next week he started climbing in with her, always talking, always gentle, always insisting she ate and drank from his hand.
When I called in to see them again, he was in the pen, crawling all over her back while she stood quietly. Soon he was able to lead her outside the pen and teach her to accept a saddle and bridle. All through gentleness - all through patience.
Known as master horsemen, gypsies were always to be seen at county fairs, horse races and horse sales. They were shrewd bargainers and always on the look out for a good horse. It was this knowledge of horses that led to the development of the Gypsy Cob.
The gypsies and their horses developed a closer bond than other horse owners for a number of reasons, the main one being that the two lived much closer in day to day existence. Gyspies had no stables so the horses lived around the caravans and were part of the everyday life of the camp. Children played with them, adults stopped to pet them and they were constantly aware of the movement of humans around them.
Gypsies practiced the `horse whisperer' style of breaking and training. I was priveleged once to watch this in action.
A young mare, who had been badly frightened as a foal and refused to lead, had been sent to the knacker's yard. She was bought for a small amount of money by a traveller, along with the advice that she would never be any good.
It took all the morning even to get her loaded into a horse box. She was in a constant state of terror, wouldn't lead and wouldn't let anyone touch her head without a fight.
The traveller built a small enclosure and turned her loose in this. Everyday for a week, he would visit her, and spend time talking to her. She had no food or water in the enclosure. She could only drink from a bucket held by her new master and eat from his hand.
By the end of the week he was sitting on the fence, with no sign of her usual panic. The next week he started climbing in with her, always talking, always gentle, always insisting she ate and drank from his hand.
When I called in to see them again, he was in the pen, crawling all over her back while she stood quietly. Soon he was able to lead her outside the pen and teach her to accept a saddle and bridle. All through gentleness - all through patience.
Known as master horsemen, gypsies were always to be seen at county fairs, horse races and horse sales. They were shrewd bargainers and always on the look out for a good horse. It was this knowledge of horses that led to the development of the Gypsy Cob.
The Gypsy and the Horse Part 2
The Gypsies bred their horses amongst themselves as early as the 17th Century to concentrate certain characteristics that were useful or considered beautiful. They wanted a strong, powerful horse to pull their vans, but also a safe and gentle animal that could be trusted in a camp where small children ran freely about.
For looks they preferred the two coloured horses; the piebald, which is black and white, and the skewbald, which is brown and white. In fact, these colours became so associated with gypsies and circus travellers, that they were frowned on in the show ring and racing circles.
They bred from heavy draft horses, like the Friesian and the Clydesdale, and the small tough English ponies such as the Dales and the New Forest, to produce a compact, short bodie, sturdy all purpose breed that could be ridden or used to pull carts.
The heavy horses added another characteristic - the `feathers', or deep fringes of hair, around the hooves. Soon the gypsies were vying with each other to produce the animal with the lushest feathers, and mail and tail. These, and the two coloured coats, became the basic characteristics of the breed.
These magnificent horses have been revived as a breed today, with studs in the UK and the US.
For looks they preferred the two coloured horses; the piebald, which is black and white, and the skewbald, which is brown and white. In fact, these colours became so associated with gypsies and circus travellers, that they were frowned on in the show ring and racing circles.
They bred from heavy draft horses, like the Friesian and the Clydesdale, and the small tough English ponies such as the Dales and the New Forest, to produce a compact, short bodie, sturdy all purpose breed that could be ridden or used to pull carts.
The heavy horses added another characteristic - the `feathers', or deep fringes of hair, around the hooves. Soon the gypsies were vying with each other to produce the animal with the lushest feathers, and mail and tail. These, and the two coloured coats, became the basic characteristics of the breed.
These magnificent horses have been revived as a breed today, with studs in the UK and the US.
The Gypsy Cob
These magnificant horse were bred by Gypsies for their compact strength, gentle nature and endurance.
- Gypsy Wizard
- I have fallen in love with this magnificent horse - he's the horse to carry you in your dreams. he displays all the desired characteristics of the true Gypsy cob - the wild mane, the full lush `feathers'and the beautiful piebald markings.
- Heartsblood Wyld Gypsy Cob Stud farm
- Heartsblood Wyld has bred some of the finest examples of Gypsy Cobs that I have ever seen.There are stunning gallery photos of their stallions and mares. Don't forget to check out `the boys'.
Gypsy cobs bring out the romantic in everyone.
Camp fire memories...
When I was a child in Ireland, my mother usually struggled to cook on a temperamental little Primus burner, that had to be primed and pumped with determination before it would fire up - when it defeated her, my father would laugh and put it away and light a campfire. He'd let it form glowing ashes, then tuck potatoes in around the edge and cook some fish or bacon in a frypan. While we ate, he and his brothers would sing and play old Irish songs. These were the best meals I remember.
We moved to England in the 50s and my mum got a portable gas stove which did everything well, even cooked Christmas dinner. But we often joined the gypsies, who always made my father welcome, around their camfires and relived old times, frying fish in butter and hacking off thick slices of local bread.
When we first came to Australia we were delighted to find that the travelling showmen had a campfire tradition as well. The best campfires of all were those set up by the Maori Troubadors, a group of singers and dancers whose show attracted huge crowds during showtime. During the day, they would bury half a pig in a fire pit, and at night, they would light the fire and invite their friends to join them. They too would sing and play under the stars, not the country and western and romantic ballads they presented in the show, but beautiful stirring Moari music that soared into the night.
My dear brother in law Sonny Neville was a musician and a master guitar player. he loved our camp fires and we knew whenever he came to visit us after we settled down, that we would have to light the fire and bake the potatoes. Sonny would sing and play for us from his amazing pepertoire of rock, ballads and spanish love songs. When he died, the music ended for a while, but now our son Chris is learning to play the guitar, so we will have music again.
We continue with the campfires - they are mostly in the backyard now, but ocacasionally at the beach. I guess this is one tradition that will never be forgotten in our family.
We moved to England in the 50s and my mum got a portable gas stove which did everything well, even cooked Christmas dinner. But we often joined the gypsies, who always made my father welcome, around their camfires and relived old times, frying fish in butter and hacking off thick slices of local bread.
When we first came to Australia we were delighted to find that the travelling showmen had a campfire tradition as well. The best campfires of all were those set up by the Maori Troubadors, a group of singers and dancers whose show attracted huge crowds during showtime. During the day, they would bury half a pig in a fire pit, and at night, they would light the fire and invite their friends to join them. They too would sing and play under the stars, not the country and western and romantic ballads they presented in the show, but beautiful stirring Moari music that soared into the night.
My dear brother in law Sonny Neville was a musician and a master guitar player. he loved our camp fires and we knew whenever he came to visit us after we settled down, that we would have to light the fire and bake the potatoes. Sonny would sing and play for us from his amazing pepertoire of rock, ballads and spanish love songs. When he died, the music ended for a while, but now our son Chris is learning to play the guitar, so we will have music again.
We continue with the campfires - they are mostly in the backyard now, but ocacasionally at the beach. I guess this is one tradition that will never be forgotten in our family.
Great Stuff on eBay
Fetching new data from eBay now... please stand by
Great Stuff on Amazon
Gypsy Witch Fortune Telling Playing Cards
Amazon Price: $7.00 (as of 05/16/2008)
Russian Gypsy Fortune Telling Cards
Amazon Price: $35.00 (as of 05/16/2008)
History: Fiction or Science? Chronology 2 (Chronology)
Amazon Price: $23.45 (as of 05/16/2008)
The Camp Guestbook
Leave you mark and tell us what you think of the Lens!
Pesha
Hello
My name is Pesha I have a blog for the promotion of a positve image of the Romani people
please could you list me on your site and I will link yours on mine
kushti baxt
Pesha
http://blogs.tol.org/roma/2007/08/21/peshas-gypsy-gitan-blog/
http://peshasgypsyblog.blogspot.com/
Posted August 26, 2007
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GwenGuinSolo
Oh Gail, the memories you conjure!! I've aye loved fire-roasted potatoes. Fire roasted cob corn and potatoes, how perfect with a steak on a hardwood fire with the Auruora Borealis overhead, a pot of coffee on the coals, and the company of good friends or family. No better way to live life!!! Posted September 28, 2006 |
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Imogen_Crest
It's full of interesting info, just great! Posted September 13, 2006 |
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heatherblakey
What a wonderfully comprehensive resource for us all Gail. Congratulations. Posted September 13, 2006 |
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SoulSister
Great site! Particularly love your camp fire memories. Posted September 12, 2006 |
Time, You Old Gypsy man
The favourite song of the Gypsy Camp, dedicated to Heather and Darryl
TIME, you old gipsy man,
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
All things I'll give you
Will you be my guest,
Bells for your jennet
Of silver the best.
Goldsmiths shall beat you
A great golden ring,
Peacocks shall bow to you,
Little boys sing.
Oh, and sweet girls will
Festoon you with may,
Time, you old gipsy,
Why hasten away?
Last week in Babylon,
Last night in Rome,
Morning, and in the crush
Under Paul's dome;
Under Pauls' dial
You tighten your rein --
Only a moment,
And off once again;
Off to some city
Now blind in the womb,
Off to another
Ere that's in the tomb.
Time, you old gipsy man,
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
All things I'll give you
Will you be my guest,
Bells for your jennet
Of silver the best.
Goldsmiths shall beat you
A great golden ring,
Peacocks shall bow to you,
Little boys sing.
Oh, and sweet girls will
Festoon you with may,
Time, you old gipsy,
Why hasten away?
Last week in Babylon,
Last night in Rome,
Morning, and in the crush
Under Paul's dome;
Under Pauls' dial
You tighten your rein --
Only a moment,
And off once again;
Off to some city
Now blind in the womb,
Off to another
Ere that's in the tomb.
Time, you old gipsy man,
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
