Traveling Gypsy

When I was a kid, my uncles used to tease each other about having a half-gypsy father who stole their mother Borat-stylie and took her away to be his wife... I never really thought much about it, being so proud of my Hellenic stock.  The thought of having Gypsy blood in me was so ridiculous that I would never have thought that they were in the least bit serious about it.... but now I'm not so sure...

You see, I have a bit of a problem.  I can't stay in a single place for more than a few days without starting to think of the next spot out there that I can see.... and the more gypsies I meet, the more I think that I am more like them than the Greeks I've met throughout my life.  Sure, we have a reputation for colonizing the farthest reaches of the world throughout early history but the Greeks today are kinda happy to be where they are and seldom seek out new and unfamiliar places today.  Generally speaking of course.

Anybody who knows me knows how much I hate generalizing the different peoples of the world but you can't argue certain unifying characteristics that certain cultures possess.  For instance, Gypsies love to travel.  Gypsies don't have any particular home outside their caravan.  Gypsies are passionate.  Gypsies want your money.  Gypsies are intense.

However, there are always exceptions to the rules.  The last gypsy I met was when I was in Budapest.  I was at a traditional Hungarian folk-dancing party with two live bands, three big halls and a TON of dancing Hungarians.  At first I was a little hesitant to join the dancing... mainly because it involved grabbing a girl and five-stepping with her while twirling her around one way, double-stepping right before reversing the flow and twirling her around the other way while not stomping on her feet.  But then something familiar and fascinating started happening; the devil's dance.

Upon entering the place, my travel buddy Shawn saw a girl he met through couchsurfing (couchsurfing.org) who was there with three dudes from the states.  We chatted it up a bit and later on met them at the bigger livelier hall where the folks danced traditional hand-holding circle dances... something I am quite familiar with.  So, I jumped into the fray between the girl and one of her American friends when a new song started playing and tried not making an ass of myself to the quick and devilish tune the band started playing.  The dance goes something like this: step right, step-step (x 3), back-step, inside kick with the right foot behind the left while swinging your hips right-forward, right-foot-plant step twice (x 3) and then repeat only faster and faster until the band decides it's enough.  Ok, so you may have to do a youtube search for Hungarian devil's dance to get a clearer picture but trust me, it's hard to master.  Unless you have circle-dancing experience like I do... in which case you're golden.  =)

So then, after a few hours of devil-dancing and learning a few other traditional Hungarian dances I was sweating profusely and decided to chill out in the main hall where there was a nice bar and some cute coat-check girls who ended up not speaking a lick of English.  Luckily there was a tall blonde dude who was having a hard time entertaining three girls right at the bar.  I decided to sweep in and help the fellow out by engaging him in some "Hey, you're French, cool, I speak French!  Where are you from?"  Soonafter the ice was broken I switched to the girls and voila! one of the not only spoke French but was a fellow Greek girl who lived and worked in Budapest!  Niiice.  A few shots and some introductions later I was chilling with two really cool Greek girls and having a fabulous time without sweating balls.

By the end of the night, Shawn was chatting up his Hungarian couchsurfing connection Sara and I was feeling a bit like a third wheel when I realized the there was a stunning girl in my frame. Her hair was blonde, wavy and long. Really long. Below her ass long. I made a smirky comment to Shawn and Sara about her and somehow Sara half-dared me to open her. Not that I need a dare to open up a conversation with a beautiful girl but the alcohol was definitely working for me so off I went.

“Hi... you have stunning hair” I started. The rest was a blur. Caught somewhere between a spell and a drunken infatuation with this stunning woman, the next thing I realized was promising to accompany her through Transylvania in her Gypsy caravan during the upcoming summer. Yes, she was part Gypsy and has a problem with men not being able to handle her passionate possessive nature for more than a few weeks. I dreamt of the moment when she would start throwing random objects in my direction after realizing that we are too passionate for one another and cherishing the moments we had dancing to Gypsy music in a Transylvania Gypsy village while her spell worked it's way throughout my body and soul. We kissed each other's cheeks, she held the back on my necj and pressed her forehead to mine saying “This is how Gypsies say farewell to someone who is special to them” while I tried to sneak a kiss upon her lips. “No, this is more important” she said as she looked into my eyes, plunging me deeper into her deep blue endless eyes, her Gypsy spell permeating my soul.

“Maybe I am a Gypsy” I thought as she swept her hair by my face and exited my frame, leaving the ether slightly disturbed but more beautiful than it was before the ripples of her existence disturbed my unbeknownst to me mundane life.