keywords: ancestry, family roots, family tree, genealogy, genes, gypsie, gypsy, romani, romanichal, travel, travellerTurns out I have a secret family history, hidden from me for all my life. It was totally shocking when I realized. It's funny when you think I started writing this blog with absolutely no knowledge of this at all.
It happened when I was using stumbleupon to find new sites. I was reading an article about the history of the Romani people when I suddenly relised that I act a heck of a lot like a gypsy. Here I am traveling across the world about to buy and live in a caravan, out of choice rather than necessity. Not only this but my attitudes to Intellectual Property (Peer to Peer networks) echo gypsy sharing morals and I am able to adapt to cultures like a chameleon, even feeling respect and identifying with religions across the board without animosity. I have a propensity for music and I am highly skilled with my hands. Here I am reading about magic tricks and NLP.
Then I remembered back and picked up some coinsidences from family situations. I remember my father showing some disdain for traveling communities - `They are not real gypsies. The real gypsies are a highly good and moral people`. I remember a family air loom of a Gypsy Varda caravan.
Can I ask you to look inside yourself and ask `Do I have prejudice here?` I add that the only thing I ever stole was a chocolate bar in a newsagent following a very long que -and I got guilty about that! Also our family is quite rich, I'm educated and successful. I don't think this is so rare. I think there are many people around the world in all sorts of cultures and economies who have some Romani genes and this has influenced the world in subtle ways.
So now it seems I have some ancestral base in... North West India?!? I don't look even remotely Indian!
LIFE IS STRANGE!
I don't intend to reveal this intentity in the current racist cultural climate. I think my family were wise to hide.
Anyway, I felt compelled to write this. It's unfinished; only the beginning of a draft. But I hope I still connect with you.
Sitting on a rock I looked out over the vista.
Breath taking. A thousand miles of hills and valleys. I guess this is what I've supposed to have come for.
In the distance I can hear the others running around and generally being loud. It's been a a nice aspect of this trip. Community.
This trip hasn't been the adventure I had planned. For whatever reason, it hadn't quenched my thirst for adventure.
One of the popular bunch comes over to me. `Ah, here you are. The guys are going to the waterfall later. Just thought I'd let you know`. Nice of her to let me know. Why am I always out of the loop? In fact, why do I never feel seem to have what they seem to? Why don't I have that sense of community?
I'd come two thousand miles looking for adventure. Why had I not found it? Was I looking for something else?
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That's the memory that I am reminded of as I look out the top of this tree. That's the memory I recall as I look
over the field, the field of my relatives gathering, drinking wine and playing rounders.
Kind of funny to watch these gatherings. Looking back it has to amuse me. My mother fussing like a clucking mother hen. This was her domain now and as much as she stressed around, I relised that really, she enjoyed it. I used to hate traveling in the car to such functions. Now I look out of this tree as a fully grown adult, I begin not just to find this cute, but I start to actually appreciate such things.
Strange how attitudes change. Do attitudes change? -or does the entire world change to match those attitudes?
Money. I want to travel. No, in fact it is more than that. There is something out there I have to do. Some kind of pilgrimage! But where? Where am I supposed to go?
The money problem. I could go on a major traveling bender round the world but do I really want to do that alone? It wouldn't come cheap. Probably a years wages, possibly a lot more if I was to borrow to do it.
No. I won't travel. Not yet. Every middle class kid wants to go on a round the world part these days. This is not what it's about. I'm looking for something. I know the value of money and I won't be friverlous with MY money like them. I won't travel. Not until I know what this thing is about. There will be time or this later. All good things come to those who wait.
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The story of the girl in the jungle. Lost by her parents in
As she grew up this girl is raised completely cut off from the world into which she was born. Her parents, meanwhile, think she is dead.
It is only 10 or 20ish years down the line that this girl wanders into a local village from the jungle. I don't know why she would do this, but in any event, she doesn't speak.
Does she retain an echo of where she is from, even though she has no conscious memory of it?
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Now I am looking out my port cabin window. A circular, small window about 12" in diameter it's just enough to give a connection to the outside earthly nature. The smallest antidote to living next to diesel engines and heavy lifting gear is amplified larger than life.
From the texture of the water I can tell we are traveling fast. Not fast for a plane, not fast for a car, but fast for a boat. Brisk cycling speed.
I have been working and living on boats now for nearly a year. It's certainly unexpected. I started on a whim. I’d never sailed before. In fact, I'd never been to sea before. How so quickly did it seem like home? Was I a Viking or some such in a former life?
Remember how I posted that I have hearing as sensitive as a dogs. How I am able to hear a dog’s whistles, bat echo location and underwater positioning equipment. It's a rare thing. When you find an undiscovered thing like this out about yourself, it's amazing. But it makes you wonder more than that. How can I get all the way into my 20's without noticing such a thing? How can anyone get past childhood without noticing such a thing? What other discoveries are there to be made about one's self?
Just imagine what untold discoveries you have to discover!
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Before getting carried away, let’s exercise caution.
I remember a tale of a politician looking into her ancestry. She was proud of her Celtic ancestry. It was part of her identity. To confirm her convictions and to learn more about herself she took part on TV with a test to that indicates genetic markers to areas of the country. With this confirmation she could be sure of her suspicions and be proudly with conviction
`I have Celtic blood in me`.
But when the test came back it turned out she had no Celtic genes. `You are… English`. Seeing the disappointment on her face the scientist added
`I suspect a little German roots before this, if that helps?`
So be careful. Given a romantic incentive, the mind can draw conclusions and then look for evidence to support those assumptions. An illusion.
Update:: Asked my grandma. She said no. Well there you go!
I had all these things supporting the idea:
- Nomad nickname - saracen bicycle choice? - music tastes rhythm over melody - wanderlust - desire top live in a campervan - identification with people along migration route - tendency to come up with creative and sometimes controversial plans noting security? - grandfather worked the land - my name is a gypsy name as is my girlfriends - varda model airloom - religious flexibility/compassion picking up aspects of each - business thought over employment - secretive over knowledge, yet sharing to a community I trust - door to door salesman talent - attitude to property and modern equivalent in p2p online networks - warrior caste interest? - I can do the Asian squat - realise price of travel
Have you ever discovered something about yourself that shocked you?
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