#French gypsy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
wandawiccan60 · 1 year ago
Text
Why Me?
An Alfie Solomon’s X Sylvia Voltaire(OC) One-Shot
A/N: Hello guys and welcome back to another Alfie Solomons One-Shot. I know it’s crazy to see myself this active again believe me it feels good. But I wanted to come in say this has been the most fun writing I’ve ever had in a while and I really hope I get to every single character of Tom Hardy. I still need to catch up on the other films of his including Lawless which by looking at the small clips of Forrest Bondurant… oh boy is he such a cute man. But as always guys thank you for coming by and reading my fics. Thank you for sharing and liking and I’ll see you all later.
ALFIE SOLOMONS MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
Camden Town: 1920’s 
Out of all the places in the entire country of London, Sylvia and her family had no choice but to stay in a place called Camden Town. They weren’t welcome that was for sure. As none residents, gypsies were considered to be nothing but untrustworthy, scum, and the lowest of the low. Knowing that they have to live and remind themselves that was how they were born and raised.
They had a wonderful life back in their hometown in France. There was a piece of land right off the coast, where it was peaceful, safe, calm, and overall where they were far away from the city. Her father Andre, had a job there as a carpenter but he did get little pay for what it was. The amount of money he would win almost went entire to have food on the table. Until one day the owner decided to let him go swing that his business wasn’t making as much as before. And leaving their lovely home behind they ended up in the city across the ocean. 
Even for a family of 6 including Sylvia, it was hard to cope seeing that her mother Kezia, has to take care mostly the baby of the family Kaven. Her two baby sisters Zana and Risa are at the age of heading to their womanhood. Knowing that both of her parents with a heavy heart need to send of their daughters to find good suitors that will take care of them. Sylvia as being the oldest, isn’t fully prepare to have to go with someone she doesn’t even love or know about much. Even for a place like London where everyone wouldn’t even want glimpse her way for one bit. 
Once they arrived to their new home a year ago, It was hard to get use to the amount of new surroundings. The tall grass fields were something to enjoy and being around. Thought the amount of strangers passing by with their automobiles was something that bothered the Voltaire family the most. Even through the year they at one point already got use to seeing many travelers and car machines so many times. Seeing that his father was trying his best to find a job around town, it seemed that he wasn’t going anywhere knowing that he was an outcast.
“Papa, maman, why can’t we just leave this place already?” Said Risa in their French tongue while they had late night dinner around the campfire.
“Because your papá my dear has some news to tell you all, and darling please try to speak your English a bit more,” Kezia said while attending the now 6 month old Kaven in one arm poking around the wood for the fire to still be on.
“My dear Kezia please, let them speak the tongue we have been born to learn,” said Andre to her which she just nodded her head quietly until he gave the big news. “My dear girls, I finally found a new job that will finally help us not go without any food on the anymore. And I will start by tomorrow.”
Risa, Zana, and Sylvia all looked at each other as if his father is telling a lie. 
“Wait papa, are you certain of this? How did you manage to convince the owner of this new job?” Asked Sylvia not believing what her ears are hearing.
“It is true, and the wonderful thing is a bakery which you all know that I use to make some great bread back home. And I wanted to share with you all that I will start tomorrow,” said Andre feeling a lot of hope for such a new opportunity that he has been waiting for so long.
“Papa what wonderful news, but does the owner know that you are well a gypsy?” Sylvia said feeling worried that if the owner of the shop finds out that they are outsiders.
“I only mentioned that we are a family of 6 and that we have been poor for a very long time. He didn’t ask for my background and instead he understood about our situation. He saw me as a human being and not a stranger, and he gave me the job right away,” Andre said though in reality the owner was more then just a simple baker and something that he had to keep to himself.
“We can finally go back home, to our small and beautiful beach again,” said Risa having an excited smile on her face knowing that she had enough of this place.
“We will go back home my children, I promise you all that with as much money as I can collect we will go back. But that is all tonight we should all get some rest now, goodnight my girls,” said Andre getting up on his feet while Risa and Zana did the same. 
As every made their way to their individual tents Sylvia heard her name called out by her father.
“Yes father, is there something wrong?” She anxiously said hoping that it was nothing bad.
“Nothings wrong my dear, me and your mother wanted to talk with you alone without the girls being here,” her father said which Sylvia was confused with why she needed to be there alone.
Though Sylvia didn’t want to question it to much she instead took a seat on top of a wooden log. 
“What is it that you and mother want to speak about with me me?” 
Both her mother and father looked at each other without any words. Knowing that what her father will say next will make their oldest daughter upset.
“My lovely dear, promise me that you will not be in what I will say to you next. Just always removed that I and your mother love you with all of our hearts and soul,” Andre said as he placed a gentle hand on top of Sylvia’s left knee which she just stood quiet, “The owner of the bakery requested that if you would like to work for him as his own personal book keeper. And that he would like to meet you tomorrow, I know this sounds much but I also think and pray that maybe this man could be a potential suitor for you. It’ll be a way for you to have a good life for you knowing that we want what’s best you my love.”
“Father aren’t you hearing yourself? You think this man that you just met think he could bring me happiness not knowing if he might have any bad intentions? No, I will not work for him even if the money seems fair but I won’t accept it,” Sylvia said not believing in what she is hearing. 
How could her mother agree to this not knowing what type of men could be dangerous out there especially if they are not gypsy by blood.
“Sylvia please, listen to your father. What if he is right, what if this man could give you everything you could ask for? And not live the way we do? I want also the best for you and for your sisters and Kaven. I don’t want to see any of you continue living like we are doing at this moment. Just go with your father and see the owner for yourself. But don’t forget to always keep your guard up my dear like we have always taught you,” Kezia begged knowing that she didn’t like where this was going but she also hoped for something good to come from this man.
The oldest daughter only sighed in defeat and agreed to go with his father to the bakery. Knowing that whatever this man is offering for her and her father is for good fortune.
****
The Next Morning
Sylvia and her father walked in a busy and noisy street as they made their way to where the bakery was located. From being on the fields for a year long this was more than what she expected. Some horses pulling wagons, men of all ages covered in dust and black powder from head to toe and the smell of coal and steel was in the air. It was a busy morning as they picked up the pace, trying to get to their meeting with the owner of the bakery in time. Sylvia wore something that would look presentable and clean though she ended up wearing one her mothers old black long sleeve dress. Which she was grateful to wear but also it made her look like if she was going to meet her doom. As some time went by they finally made it to the place where Andre knocked on two wooden doors a couple of times. The door was then opened which they were greeted by a young man who was in his mid to late 20’s.
“Mr. Voltaire, I presume yes?” The man asked which Andre took his brown cap off from his head.
“Yes I am he, and I also brought with me my daughter Sylvia. Does your owner want to see us already?” Andre asked while he wiped a bit of sweat that formed in front of his forehead.
“Mr. Solomon’s does want to see you both already. Come in,” said the young man directing them more deeper inside the brown lit shop.
There were mountains of barrels stacked from side of side, the smell of fresh dough being made and oddly enough there was a hint of of rum witching the same smell. Making their way to another pair of wooden doors, there was another long hallway with many men working from one station to another. Until one particular man was making their way towards Sylvia and Andre the one that everyone feared the most throughout the town of Camden.
“Mr. Solomon’s, this is Andre the one who was asking for a job yesterday. He wants to speak with you,” Ollie said which his boss didn’t say a thing until he was standing in front of them.
“Righ’ well Mr. Voltaire, a very good mornin’ to you sir. And yes i would to still go over some discussions with you about the job. And where I me manners, but who is this lovely woman here with you?” Said Alfie looking at his direction towards Sylvia which she just stood quiet but felt warm inside.
“My daughter Mr. Solomon’s, Sylvia Voltaire she is the oldest of the three. I brought her along to see if you wanted to still find someone with who to keep your booking. And I thought my Sylvia would be a good use in your business sir. She might not have the experience but we would be grateful if you can teach her,” Andre said hoping that it would convince Alfie to bring her in.
Alfie was quiet for a moment until he looked at Sylvia’s way looking at her up and down. She didn’t know what else to say or do she only could stay still while the bearded man thought for a moment or two if she looked like a good fit for a place like this. Though something did caught her eye about him, which it was odd to say the least. He seemed grumpy, broad, intelligent, and overall very attractive. Like from the looks of his body structure he seems to know what he does for a living and that this place itself has been booming for quite a while. She also caught a glimpse of his right hand with a small tattoo crown not knowing if it means something or just for display. Feeling like time has gone by so slowly, Alfie then finally spoke up.
“She will do, don’ you worry Mr. Voltaire, Ollie here will teach your daughter what she needs to do with me book keeping’s. Don’t you worry, I know she will be a good helping around here,” said Alfie giving a small smirk at Sylvia which she just bow her head in acknowledgment.
“Thank you Mr.Solomon’s for the opportunity, I promise to be of great use to you and for your work environment. But I also would like to thank you more for giving my father this job, we are grateful to find someone like you sir,” Sylvia said hoping that she didn’t sound very overly thankful.
“It’s nothin’ love and for next time don’t call sir or Mr. Solomon’s. Form now on yea, you will address as alfie and nothin’ more alrigh’?” He said while he liked her already for how polite she is.
As the morning went by, it suddenly became 2 o’ clock in the afternoon. Both Sylvia and her father have seen and learned so much in just almost a whole day. Andre knew what to expect since Mr. Solomon’s told him that he had an underground business that not even the coppers don’t know about. Though it did worry for the safety of Sylvia, and the rest of his family. Wondering if this was the right thing to bring her daughter to such a place and to be part of gangster organization. It was a lot to think for Andre to take in and he didn’t know if he should continue this path or not. 
“Well now you and your daughter can go home for today, but starting tomorrow right’ is when it will get serious. And Mr. Voltaire is it possible if I could have a word alone with Sylvia,” Alfie said to which Andre felt nervous to be asked such a question but he did agree.
Sylvia and Ollie didn’t mind what time of day it was, as they were mostly bust sorting papers and writing down on the big note books. She did manage to learn quickly right away seeing that it was just writing many sorts of name items and to calculate how many sales were being sold. Knowing that she didn’t speak much English and her reading wasn’t the best, Sylvia was determined to not give up on this opportunity. Knowing that this will help not only for herself but for her family as well even if it means that she needs to stay some long nights. While she tried to know what papers have to properly be placed on the door to the small office was opened seeing her father in the entrance. 
“Sylvia, umm… Mr. Solomons would like to have a moment with you,” Andre said to her in their native tongue which she looked confused but she didn’t ask another word.
Once they made it to Alfie’s office, which the oldest daughter was a bit confused as to why Alfie needs tor see her. Though once inside, he saw him sitting on the side of his big long desk filled with many piles of papers, the smell of whiskey, and dust above the atmosphere. He didn’t notice their presence right away, as Andre ands Sylvia walked up in front of the desk.
“Ah, righ’ Sylvia. I would like to speak to you about your position here in me bakery. It’s nothing bad if that’s what you are thinking love, but please have a seat,” Alfie said standing up on his feat and guiding the gypsy girl to sit.
She looked back at her father for a moment, which he just gave her a look of reassurance and that everything is fine. Though Andre and Alfie did have a talk earlier about having to bring Sylvia to this business. But it is something that Alfie himself that should tell her and it gave Andre some hope.
“I’ll leave you both alone, I’ll wait for you outside my dear,” said Andre lastly making his way out of the room hearing the door closed shut.
“You’re wondering why I need here alone with me love, and I’ll explain everything in a moment. But firstly righ’, what do you think of this job overall?” Alfie then asked taking his seat once more letting out a low sigh grunt.
“Well it is quite easy actually, however even if my English isn’t very well and my reading is a bit low I don’t see why I should not stop coming here and learn more. I honestly am doing this for my father and my family, we have been poor for a year. We had to leave home from France because well, my fathers old job wasn’t doing no good, and that is why we are here in London. Faith has always been on our side and I believe fate has come to us so quickly because of you Alfie. And I want to say again that we are very grateful that you accepted us as hard workers and not something else,” Sylvia said while Alfie listen to everything that almost what Andre said to him and he knew that this family was in need to help.
“I am sorry to hear that love, I can’ imagine that you all had to move across the ocean to land here. But I also want to say this. Your father and I have come to an agreement about you being here in me bakery, but promised him that I’ll be keeping an eye on you including my partner Ollie. As you can see yea, there are many men in this place as you have noticed. However, yea, if they ever try to lay a finger on you even give you the eye to your way, they are fuckin’ dead and will never see the light of day ever again. I know it sounds harsh for you but it is a promise that I am keeping for yous and your dear old father. How does that sound to you lass?” Alfie said seeing Sylvia’s facial expression change to confusion.
“Wait, my, my father told you all about us, but why would you try to help us?” Sylvia said trying to understand why her father would mention about everyone in the family.
“Your father asked for a favor he feels that if you are around with me you will be safe. And I could be very protective when it comes to having women around in me shop. But you don’t have to worry about that love, and well you all seem to be good people and I have been at my lowest before and I know how that life is like. However righ’, you and your family are under me eyes now starting tomorrow and showing you my humbleness towards you all and you deserve it,” alfie said in the end giving a small smile at Sylvia which she did return the smirk.
“Thank you Alfie, but how can we repay you back? This is just so much to take in.”
“No need to my dear, besides a pretty woman like you is worth saving and having around,” he added to which Sylvia could only blush at his comment.
“Again thank you Mr. Solomons. I mean, Alfie, but I will see you in the morning along with my father. But may I ask you a question and don’t take this in a wrong way. Why me and not another woman?” She asked knowing that there is more girls out there that would interest Alfie more than her.
“Is that really a question to ask treacle? You want to know the truth of why I see something in you than any other woman in this town?” He said standing up on his feet once again resting his hands on top of his hips while Sylvia felt a lump forming in her throat seeing while she sat still. “Because you’re different, and I like to know who you really are truly Sylvia Voltaire. And well, maybe if you would like to go out sometime to dinner with me if that’s what you wish for that is.”
Sylvia had nothing much to say but she stood quiet for a moment. Her fathers boss is asking her for dinner and wants to get to know her better is something out of this word. No man has ever said such a thing to her before until now. Especially Alfie that was not of gypsy origin but is willing to have some interest in her and wanting to get to know her better. 
“Oh… well Alfie I don’t know what to say about all of this. I mean you are the first man to ask me out which that has never happened to me before. Though may I have to think about this, its just its soon to say but I need a moment to give you my word,” she then said hoping that it didn’t bother Alfie for one bit.
But to her surprise, Sylvia didn’t expect to what Alfie had to say next.
“No love please, by all means have all the time that you need. And your righ’, I’m sorry for askin’ out of nowhere. Please forgive me for sounding like an eager prick,” Alfie said knowing that this was a bad idea to ask in the first place.
“No Alfie, you should not apologize its just… you asked me so politely and I think that’s very attractive coming from you,” she said without thinking wishing she could take back what she just said right now.
“Did I now? Well I am flattered to be your first then love. But you should head home now, yea. I’ll see you both here again tomorrow morning. Is it alright if I could escort yous out? If that is fine with you of course?” Alfie said while Sylvia was caught with surprise again.
Is this man gone out of his head???…
“I. Well… yes that would be lovely thank you Alfie,” Sylvia said without stopping herself to which Alfie nodded his head.
As they both made their way outside of the entrance, both Alfie and Sylvia exchanged their last goodbyes. While doing so, she extended her hand out to Alfie both of their hands were clasp together. 
“Thank you again Alfie, and see you soon again,” she lastly said feeling her hand against his larger hand feeling butterflies fluttering inside her stomach.
Once they shook hands, she made her way to where her father was waiting, as Alfie looked on seeing Sylvia leave. She then looked back for a moment, giving a small smile towards his way to which he did the same without noticing it himself. 
This will be something exciting to look forward to… and I hope it is for the best….
****
Margate: Two Years Later
Waking up to the sound of the ocean waves was what Sylvia have missed for so long. She never thought she would be close to the sea ever again, but it has finally come true once again. And that was all on Alfie that gave her everything that she could ever wish for. After being at his so call bakery everyday, they both became closer together. And she did ended up going out with Alfie whenever no one was looking or listening especially her father. They did their best to pretend to be just partners from work, but in reality both Sylvia and Alfie started to build a bond together. Having a hard time not wanting to be separated from each other. Whenever he had meetings to attend too or some “errands” to go too, he would tell her to stay for her safety. Though Sylvia did at some point found out that he was this infamous gangster of Camden Town, but it didn’t make her look at him differently. What she cared about the most was the way he cared for her, keeping her safe from harm, and overall being treated like what a girl should be treated. Until now everything was perfect and grateful for everything that this life has given to her and her family. They were given another opportunity to be able to live like actual people, and as for Alfie generosity and humbleness, he did make a propose to Sylvia and her family. 
“Sylvia, wake up, wake up, let’s go down to the seashore again. There are so many sea shells here then we have sene back home. Come on wake up,” Risa exclaimed gently tugging on her sisters right hand which she just grunted in reply. 
“Hmmm, Risa please, its to early in the morning, can’t you wait later in the afternoon,” Sylvia said in a lazy voice, recasting turning her head the other way. 
“Awww your no fun, please sister just this one time. I promise I wont ask you again next time,” she begged again to which Sylvia became quiet for a moment.
“Fine just give me a moment yes?” She mumbled to which she just heard her little sister said “yay” hearing her footsteps fade away.
She suddenly felt a shift on her left side along with a strong arm wrapping around her stomach.
“Good mornin’ my pet,” said a huskily Alfie also trying his best to wake up from his semi sleep.
“Hmm, good morning to you as well my love,” Sylvia said back as they both exchange a long kiss. 
She then wrapped her arms around his strong, broad chest as they press their lips closer together. 
“Sylvia. Come down please,” Zana called out this time, to which Sylvia groaned in annoyance. 
“Well this kiss didn’t last so long as it did last night,” Sylvia joked making Alfie chuckle.
“Well don’t be so disappointed my dove, there is more of that later tonight. I promise you,” he said giving her a cheeky wink 
It was has been almost a year of being together since Alfie asked Sylvia to be hers. It shocked her at first but she knew right away that she found her one true love. Even thought they came from different origins their love for each other was nothing to ignore. Alfie embraced Sylvia’s culture he was even willingly to learn French from her which he had approved very well. As for the rest of her family, they ended up having a home build in Margate next to Alfie’s. Which Andre and Kezia felt nothing but grateful towards Alfie’s knowing that this man was sent from the heavens. They have long for some peace and quiet and they their dreams did came true.
“Come on then love, let’s see what today awaits us ahead yea?” Alfie then asked making Sylvia come back to her senses.
“You lead the way my king.” 
****
25 notes · View notes
ghaas · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Django Reinhardt Concert Program, 1941
114 notes · View notes
postcard-from-the-past · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
"Gypsy", painting by A. Boyé
French vintage postcard
4 notes · View notes
djfrancuz · 6 months ago
Video
youtube
ZAZ - Eblouie Par La Nuit Backstage Mix #francemusique #frenchmusic@La-M...
1 note · View note
lasirenedesiree · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I wanna decorate my room in a bohemian gypsy aesthetic like this and decorate it as a sanctuary.
1 note · View note
uneasylisteningradio · 10 months ago
Text
House Parts January 27, 2024
Tumblr media
Image: Moomin House! listen to the show
Bay City Rollers - Saturday Night Irma Thomas - These Four Walls
DJ speaks over Brad Linde, Patrick Booth, Aaron Quinn and Jonathan Taylor - Housetop
Paul Whiteman and His Orchestra - I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise Public Enemy - Raise the Roof K.U.K.L. - Open the Window and Let the Spirit Fly Free Emitt Rhodes - With My Face on the Floor Dislocation Dance - Roof Is Leaking
DJ speaks over Delia Derbyshire - Door to Door
Men Without Hats - Ideas for Walls The Shangri-Las - Footsteps On the Roof Crass - Walls (Fun in the Oven) Milton Nascimento and Lô Borges - Paisagem de Janela Viagra Boys - Down in the Basement The Toms - The Door Dropdead - Foundation BEIRUT SLUMP - Staircase Come On - Don't Walk On the Kitchen Floor
DJ speaks over The Sensational Guitars of Dan and Dale - Batman and Robin Over the Roofs
Fugazi - Shut the Door Cleoma Breaux - Leve Tes Fenetres Haut Sprung aus den Wolken - Auf dem Boden Stampfen Lithics - A Highly Textured Ceiling Rat Cage - Spitting on the Ceiling Plastic People Of The Universe - Okolo Okno Eighth Route Army - Outside My Window
DJ speaks over Blue Oil - Free Fleas on the Roof
Tactics - Standing by My Window Hassisen Kone - Seinat Litige - Sur les toits Eddie & Ernie - Who's That Knocking at My Door Sophie Pascal - Je ne Frapperai a Ta Porte Stranger Cole - Stranger At the Door
DJ speaks over Lithics - Cricket Song Through Open Window
Dianah - Kelderbeat Überspannung - Boden Beakers - I'm Crawling (on the Floor)
DJ speaks over The Living Strings - When Loves Comes Knocking at Your Door
Gogol Bordello - Through the Roof 'n' Underground
1 note · View note
annaberunoyume · 10 months ago
Video
youtube
Anonyme - A l'entrada del tens clar (end 12th century)
My ideal lesbian party: Women dancing in gypsy-like clothes to this sort of song.
1 note · View note
rhianna · 11 months ago
Text
Les Rômes; histoire vraie des vrais Bohémiens, par J. A. Vaillant ...
Description
Tools
Cite thisExport citation fileMain AuthorVaillant, J A.Language(s)French PublishedParis, E. Dentu, 1857. SubjectsRomanies. Physical Description3 p. l., [3]-484 p., 2 l. illus. 22 1/2cm.
1 note · View note
dykepuffs · 9 months ago
Text
How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?
(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")
You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.
(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)
Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness��s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”
And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.
Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.
So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.
Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)
It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.
So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.
First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?
If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)
How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?
What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")
If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?
When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?
If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?
Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?
And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?
Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.
8K notes · View notes
wildbeautifuldamned · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Antique SFBJ 301 made in paris fortune teller doll ebay condosale1206e
0 notes
x-heesy · 2 years ago
Text
@darksilenceinsuburbiareloaded 🖤🌙
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫é 𝐙𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐚, 1939.
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤
161 notes · View notes
m-saiz · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
“Django” 16”x20” acrylic on canvas - for sale #art #design #django #djangoreinhardt #jazz #gypsyjazz #gypsy #french #guitar #jazzguitarist #portrait #face #blue #acrylics #acrylicpainting #canvas #canvaspainting #artwork #juxtapoz #artforum #artbasel #artforsale #longbeach #lbc #longbeachart #longbeachartist #losangeles #losangelesart #artist #marcosaiz https://www.instagram.com/p/CmPs4FZScgj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
1 note · View note
ghaas · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Selmer Guitar ad featuring Django Reinhardt, c. 1937
81 notes · View notes
postcard-from-the-past · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Gypsies of Salonica, modern-day Thessaloniki, Greece
French vintage postcard
6 notes · View notes
henk-heijmans · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Gypsies, Vinodol, Slovakia, 1968 - by Josef Koudelka (1938), Czech/French
178 notes · View notes
ptseti · 4 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
"THERE IS NO GROUP THAT EVER CAME INTO AFRICA THAT MEANT ANYTHING GOOD FOR AFRICANS" -Dr John Henrik Clarke.
“The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.” - From 'THINGS FALL APART' 1958, written by Chinua Achebe and was translated into Italian, French, Hungarian, Portuguese, Russian, Swiss, Flemish and other languages.
According to historian, Dr John Henrik Clarke, "every group of people that came into Africa meant nothing good for the Africans… and the very first thing each and every one of these groups did was to declare war on African culture…" What followed was the bastardization of African spirituality and ways that held the societies together for millennia before there was a Greece or Rome or before "the first European learnt to wear a shoe or live in a house that had a window." Or as Dr. Yosef Ben Jochannan put it, "Before there was Rome, Greece, Jerusalem or Mecca… Before there was a Jehovah, Jesus or Mohommet" (Muhammad ibn Abdul'Mutallib).
It most be noted that the first Hebrew to ever come into existence was a Chaldean from Ur, known as Abram in 1675 BC. Before then, their was no concept of a Jehovah or Jesus, whatsoever, and no Hebrew as a tribe, the world over, from as far as history revealed. By this time, the 82 pyramids in Kemet, and the over 203 pyramids in Meroe, the smaller Nsude pyramids in Udi highlands were already built. The Africans had their own spirituality through which they connected to the non-material world, through which they learnt science like iron smelting, as well as which herbs could heal what sort of disease, agricultural practice, astrology, alchemy, mining for useful minerals from the earth and so on.
Most of Africa were connected to the worship of a deity, Ptah. This was over 5000 years before the first Hebrew came into existence, it was thousands of years before Greece or Rome came into existence and before any Abrahamic religions (which are Judaism, Samaritanism, Christianity and Islam etc) came into the knowledge of anyone at all. Abram, the father of it all had not even come into existence.
In kemet, there was a belief that if one died far away from the Nile, one would not resurrect in the afterlife. Hence Kemet became the place of high culture for all tribal nationalities along the Nile from its source through modern day Tanzania, Uganda, Ethiopia Sudan etc. Abydos was a city of pilgrimage where most Africans, who could, travelled up the Nile, through the Sahara (Which was not a desert until about 5000 years ago, as archeological discoveries indicated), to worship and commune with other Africans. Osiris later become the god in Abydos while Memphis became the home for Ptah, after several foreign invasion from across the Mediterranean and the sands of Arabia.
Most of the magicians in Kemet came from Gao, a city-state of the Soudan(west Africa then). African regions and cities had their own gods and it was necessary to pay homage to the god of a land when visiting or passing through as a sojourner, merchant or gypsy. By this time, Arabian peninsula was the colony of Africans (Study from 'From Babylon to Timbuktu', 'The African Origin of Major Religions, Herodoctus, and Strabo's geographica).
{[IMAGE: The 'inner circle' of the Mossi people. Not every king on the throne rose to the societal status, necessary to attend this gathering. The first shattering effect on this 'inner circle' began when the Arabs arrived west Africa in the 7th century CE, while extending the trans-saharan trade routes through the desert.]}
30 notes · View notes