Have you ever felt like the hand of the gods was upon you? That you were in the hands of destiny? I have, and it has not always been easy. Sometimes I would scream out, hands clenched, unwanted tears spurting from my eyes in frustration and annoyance. Many times I asked the Spirits, "Why me?" I felt no unworthy, so... ordinary. Then, as it happens in our journey in life, an epiphany gleamed in my mind, and I could only exclaim "Eureka!"
Yes, I had found it. The answer that was there all along, the dangling carrot of self-realisation, like tumbling breakers in an ocean it crashed over me, and I, like the tide, gravitated towards the light of illumination. The answer was so simple. I did not need to concern myself with "Why me?" anymore, I realised, "Why not me?"
My mother was just beginning to blossom into a young lady when her most beloved father was murdered whilst protecting an innocent.
My grandfather, Dr. Carlos, loved my mother deeply, and if it could be said that he had a favourite amongst his nine surviving children, my mum was the one. My mum wasn't the best looking child, not that she was unattractive! It's just that her sisters were eerily gorgeous. My mum wasn't the healthiest, in fact, she spent most of her childhood indoors sick and taking care of her siblings, acting in every way as a second mother in her household. And still, grandpa had a special place for her in his heart. My mother may have been seen as unfortunate in some ways, but did not lack intelligence. It was her keen mind and spiritual disposition which attracted my grandpa.
As a child, my grandfather would take my mother to the Palace in Santiago, Chile. My grandpa had a special relationship with the Chilean President, Carlos Ibáñez del Campo. Not only did they share the same Christian name, but they were both medicinally and martially trained. It is said that President Campo sought my grandpa's counsel. My mother would also give counsel on certain matters, that only an enlightened child could give.
My grandpa was Rom Baro of our Kumpania, a very important man. He had great compassion for the suffering. He was a doctor, specialising in endocrinology, he was esteemed highly for his skills since most Romanies I know avoid hospitals like the plague! Often he would pack his horse and ride into the Andes, taking care of the Mapuche, one of the native peoples of Chile. Needless to say he was also very well respected by the Mapuche. Once, my mother saw that my grandpa had a book tugged in his belt before he ventured into one of his expeditions.
"What is that book there Papito?"
"It is a very special book, Catita. It reveals the people of Jehovah on Earth."
"And have you found who these people are Papi?"
"No, daughter, but you will."
And so, my grandpa divined my mother's destiny for sure enough, my mother became the first Christian in our family after her daddy passed away.
It happened that my mother's life was further divined when our Phuri Dai asked to meet her. My mum was 8 years old, as always, an observant and inquisitive child, unpretentious and pure. She sat by our Phuri Dai, looking up at her weathered face, the lines on her countenance looked like Vardo (wagon) tracks on a well travelled Drom (road).
"Phuri Dai?"
"Yes daughter?"
"Why is it that we claim to have so much power and abilities and yet most of us live as outcasts and in poverty?"
The Phuri Dai looked sternly into my mother's eyes, and then her face split into raucous laughter. As the Phuri Dai finished wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, she performed a Dukkering.
"Catita, you and other chavvies chosen by the Spirits will grow up to be the salvation of our people. We have suffered much, and you will continue suffering your own pain and struggles, but it will be different to our sorrow. You will grow up learned and live amongst the Gadje."
And it was so. My mother was the first generation Christian in our Kumpania. She was ridiculed because she was always sick due to her weak disposition. Her sisters, who also integrated into Gadje society, but held onto their ancient gods and goddesses mocked that her Jehovah could not take care of her.
"Look at us, Cati. We have money and health, and we are growing in power each day. What has your God done for you? You are always sick, and will become nothing."
Surely my aunties were growing in power. Most of them became millionaires, and my Aunty Eli married into the Rothschild family and is a baroness of Puerto Rico. And yet, today, all of them are suffering from chronic illnesses and sicknesses. My mother taught me that the greatest riches one can have is within, and that is ones spirituality and health. Who is the richest? I would say that it is my mother, for she has now riches that will never fade away. She passed onto me something that she has laboured to pass onto all her children - something eternally valuable - spirituality.
Many years down the road, my parents had reached a positive break in life. Things had been so difficult for them in the beginning. Marxism plagued the country, and it made it difficult for my mother's Christian beliefs to survive and make a living. And when things were thought to hit rock bottom in the government, the dictator Pinochet became President of Chile, bringing about a wave of tyranny over the land. Still, my parents fought ahead, as my mother says, "Up and down, but always forward." My father found a great job as an architect and building contractor. They both settled down with my three older brothers.
It was during this time, 1976, that my mother felt the motherly need to bear another child. Her sister Eli had a baby son who was dying, no doctors could help him. He had a weak gastroesophageal sphincter and could not hold any food down. Slowly and surely my uncle was withering away. My Aunty Eli's husband advertised in South America that he would pay any amount of money for someone to heal his son. Some tried and all failed.
When my mother heard about her nephew she asked to heal him, no cost. My mother's first three children had the same problem, and all of them survived. Unsurprisingly, and yet with much effort, my mum healed my uncle. It took three months of intense care (my uncle temporarily lived with my family). During this time my mother became very attached her baby nephew. Life was going very well for her, and she decided to have a child, me.
My mother tells me I was the only child that she had because she truly wanted a child, and not because she accidentally became pregnant. C'est la vie. I just hope my brothers never read this! I was her Prince, and to this day she calls me such. I was her perfect baby, with no gastroesophageal problems, perfect in proportion and nature.
When I was born I only made enough cries to clear my lungs, and I never cried again until I was 3 years old - when I was hit by a car. I would squirm and call out and make grunting and funny noises, but I didn't cry.
The car accident taught me to cry. After I was hit, I was lying on the road, I felt weird. I stood up to walk over to my father who was running towards me, only to collapse due to a broken upper femur. I didn't cry then, it did feel weird though.
I was taken to a sterile hospital. Gawd I hate hospitals. My leg was set, and my only comfort and solace was the constant presence of my mummy during that day. But, life had a cruel lesson to teach me - the lesson of bearing loneliness.
That night my mother had to leave the hospital since it was hospital regulation that no visitors, including family, stay after hours. And then I felt pain as my mother was saying goodbye, and walking away. I could not bear being away from her, my only comfort and love in my life. She looked so very sad and it broke my heart because I wanted to make her feel better and in return feel her arms around me. And yet, she continued to walk away.
A feeling I had never experienced tore through me and I cried. I cried as though all the years I had not cried lay dormant only to break forth at that moment. And my little three year old heart broke. And I knew loneliness.
My mother tells me that she could hear my screams of anguish as she was going down the elevator.
"Maaaaaaammmmmiiiitttttaaaaaaaaa! No te vallas Mamita! Maaaaammmmiiiittttaaaaaaaa!"
Mummy! Don't leave Mummy - my screams seared her soul. My dear mother, how much I love her.
And this was the first time my mother and father's hair turned a little grey. It was a very trying time for my mother, and I thank her to this day for making the sacrifices she made for me.
My mother told me as an adult that Jehovah came to her in a vision during this time. Jehovah said that He wanted to keep me a cripple, for when I grew up I would stand in arrogance against Him. He wanted to humble me, subdue me. My mother could not bear it, for I was her Prince. She made a sacrifice, gave something up, which assured that I would be healed.
It was a miracle, my healing. Months after the accident, after I learnt to walk again, you could not even tell I had been through what I did.
When I was eight years old, we moved to Australia. A new chapter in my life, for not until my adulthood could I again remember my life in Chile. We were the only family in our Kumpania to move at first, and then 2 years later, my Uncle Enrique and Aunty Gloria with my three cousins and grandmother from my mother's side, moved to Australia. We only spend a couple of years near each other, and then my uncle moved nine hours away with his family. The rest of the years I spent in Australia the only family I knew was my immediate family, my four brothers and my parents. Needless to say, no matter how bad things got between us brothers at home, outside, we were the tightest of friends!
Australia brought me a little closer to my destiny. My mother truly had fulfilled the Phuri Dai's words - she had very well integrated into Gadje society. No one knew we were Romanies, not even her children. We lived like Romanies, we ate like Romanies, we dressed like Romanies, in fact, we were Romanies, except for name. In my youth, it was I who discovered our roots. My father was the only one that would give me hints, teaching me a little here and there of the language of the Gitanos. We would spend hours during and after sunset listening to Romani music - the music moves my father's soul like nothing else does. I guess it is only one of the few things he could still take pleasure in, being away from all our Kumpania.
Every single event in my life is as it should be. As is every single event, no matter how tragic or aspiring, for every human being. It's just that most people don't comprehend that. I had to grow up not knowing my roots, because this is exactly what the Lacy Clan Elders and the Mihalascu Clan Elders wanted for their daughters. Polyamorous relationships are uncommon in the Lacy Clan, but they are a rarity in the Mihalascu Clan. But, as my High Priest explained, I had been chosen generations before my birth to be Rhiannon and Elaina's Rom.
I was raised not knowing my roots, and yet, naturally living the Old Ways. My teachers were the Spirits, nature (within and without), and my parents. It wasn't easy, sometimes I thought I was crazy for I didn't know anyone who lived as I did. But I wasn't going to be left in the dark all my life.
When I was twenty-four years of age, my High Priest called me to New Zealand. I had a house, a car, a job, a family I cared about. But the moment my High Priest called me, I did what I had to do and was in New Zealand within a fortnight.
This was one of those rebirth moments in life, another chapter opened up. I cannot delve into detail about my experiences in New Zealand because this is when my training occurred and nearly every day was filled with esoteric happenings that are privy to only those I truly trust.
My life took shape during this time. I matured (despite me thinking that I had already reached maturity, but today I understand that maturity is a growing process). I was being prepared to stand as my High Priest's right hand man, and Rom to Rhiannon and Elaina.
It was during this time that I truly screamed out, "Why me?" I had felt the calling of destiny all my life, but now it was bubbling to the surface like never before! I felt so ordinary. I felt ordinary because I had suddenly come into the presence of very important and esteemed people. You see, my High Priest is High Priest of High Priests. He is honoured in both the Lacy, Rumnichel and Mihalascu associated Natsia, amongst others. Rhiannon is from a royal bloodline, her grandfather is High Priest of her Kumpania and Vitani is Queen of her Clan.
One day I came to realisation, "I didn't ask to be handed this cup. So if I think I'm ordinary and unworthy, tough shit, I didn't choose me. The Spirits did, and they must have a reason!"
That really helped accept my destiny, and I embraced my fate for all it's worth! I lost much and gained much to reach the desired state that I'm in today, but it has all been more than worth it. When I look into my son's eyes, when I hold him to my cheek and feel his little heart pumping away, when he grabs my hair and pulls it, squealing in delight, when he cries and I can comfort him with unconditional love, patience and compassion. It has all been truly worth it. For it's not really about me, it's not really about who I was to marry. All my life, every moment and event led to who and what my children would be.
It's about the children. It's about the preservation of our folki, our Old Ways. As the Phuri Dai said, it is about the salvation of her people.
Last year, on January the 11th, Rhiannon told me in depth about her Clan. Before that, I just thought she came from just another traditional Romani Clan. On that special day, I was blown away. Isis channeled through her and explained deeply their spiritual beliefs, who they were, where they came from, what their traditions where, why we were chosen to be lovers. And yes, I was so blown away for I had truly found the people I had sought all my life. The people I was destined to be - Romani Followers of the Old Ways. Shemsu Fenix.
