This blog post is way past due. It’s one I’ve been thinking about and working on for several weeks now. It’s from back in Bulgaria. One of our main ministries there was teaching English, but it was teaching the children in the gypsy villages that really captured my heart. Here is my experience of visiting the gypsy communities on several different occasions.
When we had the option to spend our off day the first weekend going with our host’s friend, Maya, to the Roma gypsy villages, I really had no idea what to expect. I just wanted to go. I had never even met Maya. I met her for the first time when she picked me and Marissa up at the bus stop on that rainy Saturday afternoon. During the 40-minute car ride, I quickly learned Maya’s story and about her heart for the gypsy communities. When we arrived in the first village, it was pouring rain.
There were not many children at the church because of the weather. We took a few minutes to walk up and down the streets inviting the kids that normally come. We stopped at the house pictured above. This woman was literally filling and dumping buckets to keep water from coming into her home. There was so much water. I suddenly realized that rain is not fun for everyone. To me, a rainy evening means cuddling on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and sipping a hot drink from a cute mug, knowing that I’ll have a great night of sleep thanks to the sound of rain. BAM. Back to the current reality. This woman more than likely loathes the sound of rain because to her it means standing outside totally soaked and cold and strategically placing buckets throughout the house to catch the water dripping through the roof, knowing the sleepless night full of worry is coming.
Once we got back to the church, we got to teach and play a few games to the kids that were there. The oldest was 15, but the average age was much younger, probably closer to 8.
Dani, the teacher, had prepared a lesson about creation and we helped pass out materials for the craft. After a few more games about the days of the week and counting in English, we drove across town to another nearby village. [I like to call this the hot chili pepper village because at the church there were always huge bags of green chili peppers.] There the kids were a bit older, maybe closer to 12. We learned that none of the kids have both parents; one or both have either left by choice, or have passed away. We taught them a few English phrases by playing games and again, Dani taught a Bible lesson. The kids were so attentive and soaked up everything they were being taught.
The second weekend of the month, our team was on a Greek hiatus [read about my ah-ha moment here].
For the third weekend, I wanted return to the gypsy villages with Maya. I had been truly fascinated by the people and the culture on my first visit, and I desired to know and experience more. Brittany volunteered to join me Saturday afternoon. Maya picked us up from the bus stop once again. We went back to the first village, where Dani taught more about creation. There was easily double the number of kids this time. They were a little unrulier, but we passed out the craft supplies. Somehow, we managed to help them make pipe cleaner mobiles of the solar system, with little dangling suns, moons and stars.
After we played some more games and said our goodbyes, we met a precious little old lady outside. Maya told us that she was a widow who lived in the village with her mother, also a widow. She got in the car with us because wanted to show us her new house. One-day months ago, the two widows left for work out in the fields, but when they returned home, their house had burned to the ground. Everything was gone, except for the washing machine, which had been left untouched. By reaching out to different organizations and individuals, Maya was able to raise money for materials and labor to build the two women a new home. She even took them furniture shopping! The older widow greeted us as we drove up. They both beamed with pride as they gave us the grand tour of the new house. It was beautiful. There was a plush purple couch, cool purple patterned wallpaper and two beds, both with purple blankets. I asked if purple was her favorite color and she replied, “YES!” We couldn’t stay long because we were on our way to the second village, but the amount of love and joy in the eyes of those two women was unreal. They were so thankful, so grateful. Each gave us a tight squeeze and waved as we drove away.
The following Wednesday, Maya gave me and Brittany another opportunity to join her in the gypsy village. She was going to be preaching in the second village [hot chili pepper village] and wanted each of us to share a quick testimony with the church. Before the service, Brittany and I were sorting clothing donations at the warehouse with Maya. Since I was wearing sandals, and it was rather chilly outside, I found a pair of close toed shoes in the boxes to wear to the church service, only I didn’t have socks, which wasn’t a problem for me, but nevertheless. We stopped to get dinner on the way to the service and we ran into a man that Maya knows from the village. He told her that the pastor from the second village had left the night before for work in Europe, essentially leaving the church without a pastor. As we drove into the village, Maya pointed out a half-built brick building. She told us that was the new church building, but construction was put on hold. We arrived at the church and immediately as we walked in, the ladies started pointing and making comments about how cold my feet must be without socks. One woman, so kindly and graciously, offered me a pair to wear. [Yes, I still have them and yes, I plan to still wear them with pride!]
The service was packed and started out with worship. Hallelujah. Did you know that hallelujah is the same word in many languages? [The two-part word roughly translates in Hebrew, hallel, meaning a joyous exclamation or expression of praise in song, to boast in God and yah, believed to be the shortened version of YHWH, sometimes rendered as Yahweh or Jehovah, both of which are intimate names for the Lord, our creator!] Right there in that worship service, in the gypsy village in the middle of Bulgaria, we lifted our hallelujahs to the Lord with one voice. It was awesome. I even got out my phone to record. Actually, as I’m typing this right now, I’m listening to Look Upon the Lord by Kari Jobe and she is singing Hallelujah. WOW. So cool!
Anyway, I shared a brief version of my testimony and how the Lord has taken me on journey of learning to trust him and listening to his voice. When Brittany got up to share, she encouraged that if anyone felt called to lead the church to step up and do so because the Lord would guide and use whoever was willing. That He would not call the equipped but instead, He equips the called.
Saturday, just a few days later, Maya was preaching again, this time at the third village. She again, so graciously, extended an invitation to me and Savannah to join her and share our testimonies with the church. This was my first and only visit to this village, which was made up of Turkish gypsies that had converted from Islam. The building, teal on the outside and yellow on the inside, looked like an old box car.
We joined the church in worship and communion. The pastor expressed their need for a new church building and asked us to join them in prayer for that. Maya then called us up to speak. I shared about not only hearing the Word, but doing it, and encouraged everyone to be an active participant. After Savannah shared about something I honestly can’t remember right now, it was Maya’s turn to preach. She stood at the front of the church, behind the podium, holding her precious dog, Gravy. [He’s not in this picture, but trust me, he was there!]
We laughed when she said he attends church more frequently than some of the people. After the service, some of the women came over to talk with us. They asked how old we were and if we were single, dating or married. They all said, “good for you” and clapped when we said we were single. One woman told me that by the time she was my age that she was already a grandma. Yeesh!
We had one final opportunity to work in the gypsy villages during our last week in Bulgaria. On that particular day, Maya did not join us, so Dani, the teacher, picked me, Julie and Melissa up from the bus station. We visited the first and second villages.
There were so many children in both places! Without Maya there to help with crowd control, it got a little out hand a few times, but nevertheless, it was great! We ended our day in the second village, where Julie taught the kids how to sing You are my Sunshine.
I was so honored and privileged to visit these three gypsy villages while in Bulgaria. I encountered a culture that is in stark contrast to my own. I encountered a community of people, who at their core, are no different from me. It was more than I could have ever hoped for.
To Maya, thank you! Thank you for all the heart you put into your work and thank you for letting us join you in that. Continue the good work! It was so cool to see you, someone who has dedicated and invested so much time, energy, and prayer into these communities. Your passion shines ever bright! You continue to inspire me in many ways as you live your life to serve others and serve the Lord. I hope to someday meet again, my friend!
