The Heart Of A Gypsy Read Online Free Page B

their plan. Others of us did not trust the gage , especially the Nazis. We Rom pride ourselves on being good judges of human nature. We observed them as they came to visit our kumpanias ; a kumpania means a group who travel together.  I saw these Nazis as their eyes grew wide while they watched our women dance. They smiled as they listened to our music, but the smiles were only on their lips they never reached as high as their eyes.  And I knew…even then, I knew. They only pretended to be our friends. And so, one night when the Nazis were nowhere in sight, I took my kumpania and we moved out to where we would never be found. We hid deep in the forest and waited for to see what was going to be the outcome of all of this. Before we left, I tried to convince other kumpanias to join us…not to follow the SS…not to believe them. But some would not listen.  There were those of my own people who were enticed by the idea of a warm place to spend the cold months, but I tried to remind them that we had been making our winter camp for hundreds of years the same way; why chose to change now?  I felt it unwise to follow the Germans and believe their promises.  Even with the cold, our children never became sick as we waited for the return of the summer each year,” the Shera Rom said.
    Christian watched as the eyes of the Shera Rom welled up with tears. Before he could go on, the Shera Rom took a deep swig of the cherry liquor. Then he gazed off into the distance and continued his story, “The Rom who took the offer from the Germans were caged in the ghetto like animals. They were surrounded by guards with guns and barbed wire, and not permitted to leave. Watching in horror from our hideouts, we witnessed our people being transported out of the ghetto by train. Being the travelers that we are, and accustomed to persecution, we remained hidden, while secretly following the trains. What we found horrified us. Thousands of our people were being taken to concentration camps where they were either worked to death or starved. It was then that our resistance group began to form in a more structured manner. We have since been joined by partisans and Jews, and together we have a common goal, to rid the world of the Third Reich,” the Shera Rom said as he lit his pipe and blew out a hefty puff of charcoal smoke.  Then he turned back to look at Christian.
    “I heard that the Jews and the Rom were not friendly,” Christian said.
    “There are legends among our people that we are decedents of the pharaoh’s guards who were drowned when Moses parted the Red Sea,” the Shera Rom answered. “And I suppose that makes us enemies with the Jews, but in my mind that was a long time ago. Now I find that the only people who I fully trust and admire who are not gypsies are Jews. They are loyal and good friends, and sometimes I think that perhaps all of this happened with the Nazis so that we would know each other for who we really are. They, like us, have a history of persecution,” the Shera Rom said, and he gripped his pipe between his thick, calloused thumb and first finger, sucking the smoke deep into his lungs. He was a large man with powerful hands that seemed to be inlaid with dirt that washing could never remove. His thick black mustache covered his lips as he spoke, and on his head he wore a black felt hat with a short brim.
    Christian nodded his head in understanding and agreement.  One of the men handed Christian the bottle once again, and he drank deeply. “So, let me understand this… There are Jews here among you, and the rest of you are all gypsies? Are you from the same tribe or kumpania ?” Christian asked.
    “No, actually we are gypsies from several different kumpanias . Some of us are Sinti , others Lowari and Kelderari , and there are also some Poles with us. All of us are joined in our desire to see Hitler’s reign of terror end. Each of us came here bringing our own special talents, and together we have been able to