Politics as Unusual

Recently there has been a lot of hullabaloo about The Roma here in Europe. If you are not abreast- let me get you up to speed. The Roma are a group of nomadic people believed to be from eastern Europe but with origins in India. They do not live within the cultural norms. They don't work in legal jobs, the children often do not attend school, they live in camps- makeshift and ramshackle. They make money by begging, lying and stealing. And they are a burden on the societies in which they live. They are what is commonly referred to as gypsies.

Nicolas Sarkozy has come under some considerable fire for basically deporting hundreds of Roma from France to Romania. The EU is all out whack. No one can agree on HOW to deal with a people who essentially belong nowhere (they have no documentation or formal records) but everywhere (according to law, should be free to travel within the EU).

Last week, I read an article in the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/17/world/europe/17roma.html?scp=2&sq=roma%20&st=cse) criticizing Sarkozy. Usually, I love the "Liberal Media's Heart of Darkness," (in fact my heart is also dark, and full of contempt for Teabagger Sarah Palin) but the article was way off the mark making the Roma sound like a harmless but victimized group of campers. But to most New Yorkers "Gypsy" is merely a Broadway Musical here in Europe the Roma are a real threat.

They are not harmless. To us. Or to themselves. They mame, drug, molest and beat their children. They rob, mug and vandalize. They manipulate charity and drain social services (see my archived Article in the American Magazine http://www.theamericanmag.com/article.php?article=1844). P.S. I am a registered Democrat and bleeding heart liberal who has a Communist for a baby daddy.

This morning I was throwing out my garbage. I approached the trash area on the street to find a 'zingaro,' (a male Roma) dumpster diving. He was literally standing inside the container rummaging through rubbish.   I stood and waited. And waited. It was really awkward. I couldn't even imagine throwing my garbage all over another human being, so I said, "Excuse me." Pause. "Can I?" Nothing. I asked again and then stammered a bunch of vowel sounds together which made me sound like a mentally challenged slash speech impaired kook (second Sarah Palin reference). I walked further down the block. Passing my Volvo station wagon, I admired myself in the reflection of the new glass (our windows have been bashed in twice this month) and made my way to the next set of trash receptacles.

Maybe we could send them all to Sarah's back yard. And I don't mean Russia.