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 13-5-2008 - Why I Stopped Giving Money to Ciganos
 
Cigano is the Portuguese word for gypsy. Ciganos are the main objects of discrimination. I felt sorry for them in my early years here. The sight of a crying woman holding two dirty, skinny babies got to me, so I'd drop whatever coins I could spare into her cup. People here would tell me over and over not to give them any money because they had plenty and it was a scam, one of the ways they stay rich along with allegedly buying and selling drugs.

I was still upset each time I saw the same scene throughout the city. Some of the kids had deformities and I was told, and I find this really hard to believe, they were maimed on purpose so they'd bring in more money. When I expressed my disbelief at something so horrid, I was told I was naive. I even heard stories of child trafficking and the money going back to Romania -- billions from all over Europe. True? I have no idea.

Before I got my camera phone and one of the main reasons I wanted one was so I could snap pictures on the street after seeing a Cigano guy nodded out over his sign, which translated something like "I have 5 sisters, my mother is dying, we have no food". It was obvious he'd just shot-up heroin and without thinking of any reprecusions, said loudly in very bad Portuguese that I knew why he really needed the money. The look on his face was one of drugged shock.

I've wanted to take pictures of the pathetic mothers and children begging outside the market and along the streets, but didn't want them to think I felt sorry for them or were going to exploit them in some way. I wish I'd taken them now so I could compare them with others I'd have taken recently. I was so thunderstruck when I saw the same woman with different kids than she'd had before. The scam was sinking in. It's like Rent-A-Kid. I began paying closer attention and found they all traded kids for their begging.

One day, one who really gets on my nerves, this in-your-face always crying chick who pled with me to the point of grabbing the bottom of my jacket, made me so mad, I decided to turn the tables on her. I began imitating her, fake crying and sobbing in really awful Portuguese, I had no money, no home, my husband was dead and then stretched my hand out to her and asked for money. I was later told I was lucky she and others weren't waiting for me when I came out of the market.

I realize now that was very immature to me, but I'd had it, especially discovering they were trading kids around and hearing most weren't even their kids. I realize work is all but impossible for them to find, but they refuse to conform and play the part so they could find halfway decent employment. The schools aren't easy on the kids who are allowed to attend and most wind up dropping out.

I have no answers as to what to do to change any of this. I understand this same scenario plays out all over Europe, not just Portugal. The feelings towards them are the same. It's out and out xenophobia, but damn, I hate to say it, but it's their own fault. I also have to say it's a very, very old culture that will never be part of today's. My solution now is to not look at them if I don't want to be hassled.

I hate that it's like this, as the Ciganos are not all the same and many have broken tradition and gone to college and have good careers. I'm only ragging on the ragged street/camp variety whose only purpose in life is to beg. I wasn't ever going to write about this, but the treatment of kids really infuriated me. Poor kids, what a life they're forced to live.

Brenda Stardom
Portugal - 9h04 GMT +1


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