I am only a little Gypsy 1 - Reincarnation, does it exist? - 24. Chapter 24. Roasting a pig; and what is gadjo money.

After dragging, pulling, and even hauling my enormous pig across all the nasty cracks and slippery boulders, we finally reached our own secluded Gypsy camp. Feeling dead tired, but also happy to be home again, we first towed our makeshift transporter towards our campfire in triumph. Then, all of us slumped down on our wooden benches, to retrieve our breaths and take some rest before we could go on.

My Big Friend Michail was the first one who saw my enormous pig, and he immediately called a few other grownups:

"Look at what our minors are bringing home today! This time, they've caught an enormous PIG in their snares. Wow, and it's a really FAT one too! Misha, who caught it?"

Looking very proud, Misha pointed to me while he explained:

"Prince Harold caught it in his snare, and he killed it by using only ONE blow behind its ears, as an experienced trapper!"

"Really? That is unbelievable! Our smallest minor ever, killing an enormous pig using only ONE blow? Wow..."

Looking truly proud, Michail scooped me off my bench and nearly squashed my tiny ribs against his chest, while he exclaimed:

"I KNEW you would become something extraordinary special! I just knew it... Accept my honest congratulations, my dear Prince, for catching such a valuable animal in your first snare."

More and more surprised looking grownups showed up, admired my fat pig, and told me they felt truly impressed. Directed by my Big Friend Michail, they helped us carry our heavy makeshift transporter towards our small butchery that was next to our parking lot. They also pulled our transporter upright against a tree, so that Michail could open the heavy beast's carcass and clean it out easier.

In the meantime, even more people showed up around us. For a few seconds, they only stared at my enormous pig, in obvious awe. Then, they too slapped my shoulders, high-fived me, and ruffled my unruly blond hair, whilst congratulating me with such an impressive catch! They also started to praise my absolutely superb natural trapper skills, which made me blush fiercely, over and again. Could I really have accomplished such a special achievement? I, who was still our 'smallest minor ever' in our entire Gypsy camp? Wow...

Now that our transporter stood upright, Michail took his sharpest butcher knife and explained to me how he would skin my enormous pig without making too much of a mess. Then, he offered me another sharp knife and asked me to help him clean it out! Feeling even prouder of myself, I started to help my Big Friend opening the huge animal, tapping its blood, removing its internal organs, and finally cleaning its heavy carcass. In the meantime, Michail explained what exactly we had to do and why we had to do it.

Very much to my surprise, we were able to use almost everything of my valuable pig! For example; its leather skin, its edible organs, its strong tendons, its blood; and even its enormous length of intestines, to fill them up with chopped pig meat to make smoked sausages... Up to now, I never knew that a big forest pig could be such a usable animal.

One of our minors, Jaspi, turned out to know quite a lot about my pig's anatomy, from a learning book his Dad once bought him. From Jaspi, we learned several very interesting things about how the body of a pig functions and what all those different organs are called. Then, Jaspi told us that the insides of our OWN bodies are nearly the same... All that blood, and all those strange looking organs and enormous lengths of intestines, were in MY body too? Yuck!

After Michail and I had cleaned my pig out, and my Big Friend had saved its valuable leather skin and all those edible organs, I went into our surrounding bushes, to collect several carefully selected and nicely scenting spicy herbs. In the meantime, a couple of strong men had already attached my pig's heavy carcass to a sturdy pole and hung it over our campfire. While one of them started to turn my pig around and around, I started to smear its already nicely roasting carcass with its own salted lard and with my heavenly scenting fresh herbs mixture. Now, we only had to wait until the enormous animal would be ready to be eaten, which would take quite some time.

Now that we had to wait until the roasted pig meat would be ready, everybody who had helped us went inside their caravans, to wash all the blood and smear from their bodies. Happily, I followed them and went to my own caravan, where I first took a hot shower and washed my entire body from head to toe. Feeling spotlessly clean, I entered our living room, where my parents were already waiting for me. Of course, they too were very eager to hear about how I had been able to catch such an enormous pig in my first snare!

Vividly, I told them how I had folded and attached a very special snare that would be able to catch even a huge wild deer, onto a sturdy branch by using a very effective knot that nobody else had ever shown me before... Because they just kept on looking at me with questioning faces, I decided to tell them everything about my strange 'memories' of once having been a 'little trapper boy' during my past life, always helping my 'trapper Dad' setting traps and roasting our caught animals, using my own sharp knife. I also told them how my tasty herbs and other spicy plants always 'talked' to me in my inside, to let me know on which particular food they could be used best, while the poisonous or dangerous herbs always warned me in advance.

After I had told my parents everything that I could remember from my past life as a 'little trapper boy', my broadly smiling Dad lifted me onto his lap. With a very proud sounding voice, he told me:

"Boy, you surely know how to make a good first impression, even whilst being the smallest minor ever among all those much older kids! Of course, we grownups have already been talking about you and your so extremely special 'abilities' many times before. Thanks to our Wise Woman who told us about you being a Very Wise Old Soul and having been a powerful Shaman and Cosmic Mage during many past lives, we also know that you have to fulfill an Important Task on our so terribly confused Planet Earth, guided by the Gods themselves, once you will be a grownup and start reigning. We think that is why your Beloved Ancestors and devoted Cosmic Friends have kept your soul awake, from the moment you descended from our Timeless Eternal Realm to be reborn as a little Gypsy Crown Prince, so that you could bring all your Shaman and Mage abilities into your present life, instead of forgetting everything, as most little babies usually do. Only, please, never think you are something special because of only having some good luck! Also, never brag about any of your so-called 'Shaman achievements'. You should be grateful that this particular pig has chosen you to ensnare itself into YOUR trap, and I also think you should thank its animal spirit in your mind."

Huh? Should I really THANK my pig's animal spirit in my mind, for offering itself to me? Could my wise Dad be right? Should I be grateful that this particular pig had chosen MY special snare, and not one of the other kids? Had really my pig offered itself to me, or to our secluded Gypsy community, by choosing exactly MY rigid snare with such a special knot? Because I wanted to be absolutely honest, I decided to think my Dad's wise words over first. Therefore, I left my Dad's lap, retreated towards our windows, and stared outside at our still brightly glowing campfire with MY roasting pig on it. A helpful grownup was still turning its stake around and around, so that its roasting carcass would brown all over. Then, I started to think.

After some heavy thinking, I saw that my wise Dad could be right. Out of all our snares, my pig had chosen exactly MY snare to put its fat neck into it, because mine was the only one with such a special knot that would be rigid enough to withstand its ferocious wrestling! Feeling convinced, I stopped thinking, closed my eyes, and tried to thank my pig's animal spirit in my mind, by telling it we were very grateful for its tasty meat, its useful leather skin, and all those edible organs.

Very much to my surprise, I suddenly thought I could hear the faint voice of my pig's animal spirit sounding in my own inside! With a slightly oinking voice, its spirit told me:

'You are welcome, my human friend, and thank you very much for practicing first, so that you could kill me almost instantly and painless. You really are a lovable and respectful human being.'

For quite some time, I felt too surprised and therefore remained silent. Could I really have heard my pig's spirit in my inside, thanking me for practicing first? Up to now, I never knew that animal spirits could be able to understand human thoughts... Then, my analytical human brain restarted to doubt. Could I have made up this too faint oinking answer in my inside, perhaps because my human mind had hoped to get such an audible response? Although my analytical mind wasn't absolutely sure, being thankful certainly felt GREAT!

After thanking my Dad for his wise advice, I left our caravan and trotted back to our campfire, to start looking after my roasting pig. One of our helpful grownups was still turning its pole around and around, while another grownup was brushing more and more lard and tasty herbs onto its already nicely roasting meat. Most minor friends had started roasting their own caught animals on smaller stakes, by smearing them with my spicy herbs, as usual, and this time also using a little bit of salted lard from MY roasting pig.

Happily, I went to the brushing man, thanked him for his much-appreciated help, and took over. From now on, I wanted to smear and brush my own pig all by myself, to let it brown nicely, until its roasted meat would be ready to serve a real feast meal to all the hungry people in our camp.

After our minors had roasted their marmots, they sliced them into several chunks, divided the chunks into fat slices, and offered all the people around them a nicely scenting slice of roasted meat. By now, many hungry looking grownups and several 'infants' and 'toddlers' had already joined us around our campfire, to get their own share of nicely spiced marmot meat. With happy looking faces, they started to devour their own fat slices of heavenly tasting roasted animal.

In the meantime, a couple of smiling grownups had started talking about their 'smallest minor ever' killing such an enormous pig using only one blow behind its ears, as a real 'natural trapper'. Time and again, their praising words made me blush. Had I really accomplished such a special feat? I, who was still the tiniest minor ever who was allowed to accompany the other minors into our surrounding woods? Ultimately, I was only four years and three months old...

Finally, my roasted pig was ready to be eaten, and a few helpful grownups took its nicely scenting carcass from our campfire and put it onto a wooden table, where my Big Friend Michail first helped me divide its meat into a few enormous chunks. Next, he helped me slice one of the chunks into several smaller portions; and then we sliced all the portions into many fat slices of nicely roasted pig meat.

Now that everybody around us got a fat slice of my roasted pig, all of us started to devour our slices with a mouth-watering frenzy, whilst many younger kids nearly swallowed their own fingers because of its more than heavenly taste! Very much to my delight, my roasted pig turned out to taste absolutely delicious, so that nearly everybody took second helpings and complimented me with its exquisite taste. Again, their praising words made me blush fiercely.

In the meantime, Michail had taken a small slice of my roasted pig, divided it into even smaller parts, and then let his hungry looking twin sons chew on their own slices. Looking happy, both Michi and Movi started to munch on them, with very eager eyes and tiny streams of fat dribbling from their little chins. They almost grunted with the delight whilst devouring their small slices, until their entire parts of pig had disappeared into their stomachs. At last, Michail cleaned their faces with a few tufts of grass, and then brought them back to his caravan.

Now that everybody in our camp was stuffed to the brim, all of us burped loudly, to thank my pig's spirit for offering its tasty meat and several other useful body parts. For quite some time, a few grownups went on talking about little imps catching enormous pigs and killing them using only one blow. Over and again, they made me blush; until I started to think they could be doing this on purpose...

Finally, helped by me, Michail started to gather all the remaining chunks of my pig, to smoke them first and then preserve their hams as a very welcome reserve during our upcoming cold winter. After also gathering all its other usable body parts, its leather skin, its organs, intestines, tendons, and blood; I helped him smoke the edible parts, to bring them to our hidden cooling caves along our shadow ravine.

After we had smoked all the hams and other edible organs, a few strong minors helped my Big Friend carry everything to our hidden cooling caves, as a very welcome winter stock. In our closed caves along our shadowy ravine, they would be cold enough and hopefully also safe enough to withstand any hungry predators with sharp teeth. In the meantime, my Big Friend complimented me again with such a valuable fat catch. Next to complimenting me, he also told me:

"Thanks to you, we were able to gather more than enough smoked hams and other usable body parts of your enormous pig, to survive at least the first part of our upcoming cold winter!"

At hearing Michail's praising words, involuntarily, I started to blush again. At the same time, my inside felt truly proud of what I had accomplished so far. This time, I had undoubtedly proven to be at least a valuable part of my own secluded Gypsy community!

When finally my Big Friend and I returned to our campfire, most parents had already taken their little 'infants' and 'toddlers' home, to put them to bed. After they had tucked their infants and toddlers in, they too returned to our campfire, where they again joined us on our wooden benches around our faintly glowing campfire. Very much to my happiness, this time, my Mom did NOT take me home, as she normally always did. Because I was now a 'Real Big Boy', I really belonged to our regular minors! Therefore, from now on, I could join everybody else around our campfire for as long as I wanted, until I started to feel too sleepy and decided to go to bed all by myself.

With a very happy smile on my face that unzipped from ear to ear, I looked around at all our softly chatting minors and coffee drinking grownups. Clearly, I really was a Real Big Boy now, although I was not even four-and-a-half years old and still a tad too small for my age. Although my body felt very tired from strolling around in our woods, I just didn't want to leave my group of minors until sleep forced me. I BELONGED to our minors now, and, from now on, nobody in our camp could get rid of me anymore until I had decided for myself!

Several tired looking minors had slumped down onto their parents' warm and cozy laps, clearly to be cuddled and to feel safe and loved. Happily, I crawled onto my Dad's cozy lap, next to my Mom, feeling very tired and a little bit sleepy, but also wonderful. My older friend Misha sat opposite us on Michail's enormous lap, from where he looked at my Dad and me with a beaming face. My gut feeling told me that Misha was still missing his own Dad who suddenly died a few years ago, due to a slipping caravan tumbling into a ravine. Therefore, my inside felt very happy to see that Michail and Misha were becoming such good friends. My Big Friend, with his enormous heart full of Real Love, would certainly be a wonderful 'replacement Dad' to my fourteen-year-old experienced trapper buddy! Of course, I wasn't jealous at all, but only hoped that my Big Friend Michail and my older friend Misha would stay together like this forever.

Again, our grownups started to talk about the really nice aftertaste of my roasted pig, about my heavenly tasting herbs they never knew existed until their clever Crown Prince found them and knew how to use them, and about such a tiny imp killing an enormous pig using only one blow... Again, their praising words made me blush, although I was now sure they were doing this to make me blush on purpose.

Apart from being teased like this, I felt absolutely wonderful and truly happy to be living here, in our secluded site in the Rumanian mountains with their snow-clad mountaintops that seemed to glow in the bright sunlight during the day, and where we were surrounded by our outstretched woods and hitherto unknown dense forests that could be full of new discoveries and even more exciting adventures.

After drinking their coffee, a few grownups started to talk about their strange experiences in the so-called 'gadjo' world, it being the world that resided outside our secluded Gypsy camp in the Rumanian mountains, where those gadjo's were living totally different from us Gypsies...

Immediately, I perked my ears up and started to listen intently and open-mouthed! In the so mysterious world outside our camp, those strange gadjo's seemed to be living in so-called 'towns', or in 'villages', where they resided in brick 'houses' that looked like enormous two-story or sometimes even multi-story caravans. Only, their 'houses' didn't have any cartwheels to drive them away in case they ever wanted to move towards another place, but they had to sell their own house first, before buying another brick 'house'!

Of course, my bright brainiac brain restarted to think this over, because I wanted to understand everything about those strange gadjo's and their extremely unusual habits. To us, Gypsies, whilst living in our own secluded site in the Rumanian mountains, moving towards another free spot had always been very easy. We only had to ask a few strong grownups to help us drive our caravan towards another free spot, and that was that! So, why were those strange gadjo's living this inhibited, totally unlike us Gypsies? Only, just before I could ask my Big Friend Michail my questions, he had already started telling even more interesting stories, this time about US!

Quickly, I stopped thinking and restarted to listen, while my Big Friend recalled our cold winters when all the animals were already in hibernation or had disappeared into far-away mountain holes. Day after day, our minors were returning from our surrounding woods empty-handed and feeling desperate, because they had been unable to find anything edible at all. At the same time, our grownups had tried to find some work in the mysterious 'gadjo' world outside our camp, but they seldom succeeded and mostly were chased away, or they were called 'thieves' and 'vagabonds' and threatened to be locked up in a so-called 'police cell' by their quickly alerted gadjo 'police'.

If our desperate grownups had been able to find some work, those gadjo's always 'paid' them for the amount of work they had done. Only, our hungry men didn't get any edible food or other necessary things for their work, but they only got small pieces of colored paper with little signs on them that they called 'money'. With those earned 'money flaps', our grownups could then buy some cheap gadjo food or secondhand utilities, but only in those same gadjo towns in certain special gadjo places that were called 'markets' or 'shops'.

Suddenly feeling curious about those colored-paper 'money flaps', my bright brainiac brain restarted to think. Why should anybody do lots of work for those gadjo's, when they didn't give you anything in return but only pieces of colored paper with little signs on them? Nobody in our Gypsy camp had ever been able to eat and digest any colored paper, or to sew any warm clothes out of small paper flaps! Therefore, their gadjo 'money flaps' were absolutely useless; unless our paid grownups went to THEIR gadjo world, to use THEIR gadjo money to buy THEIR secondhand gadjo utilities or cheap food...

Clearly, this was a serious catch! By paying us with their colored 'money flaps', those shrewd gadjo's effectively forced us Gypsies to be dependent on THEIR gadjo world, because we proud Gypsies were forced to be dependent on THEIR gadjo way of living, by being paid with THEIR money flaps and thus forced to buy THEIR products in THEIR gadjo 'markets' or 'shops'! This was a VERY serious catch! Or was I now thinking nonsense? Besides, couldn't there be an easier and less dependent way to buy those gadjo utilities and their cheap food, without our people doing any work for those too shrewd gadjo's first?

Involuntarily, my deep baritone voice blurted out:

"Why do our grownups have to WORK for those gadjo's, to get their small pieces of colored paper money flaps with little signs on them? Wouldn't it be much easier for us to draw those little signs on some colored paper by ourselves? How difficult can that be?"

For a few seconds, everybody around me remained dead silent, as if they could feel severely shocked. Then, all of them started to talk at the same time, and a few people even started to laugh! Why was that? Could I have told them such an impossible solution? Ultimately, I was our youngest minor ever who was allowed to stay awake during the evening, and I had never thought about any of those strange gadjo habits before...

Feeling frustrated, I stared at our faintly glowing campfire. Why were they laughing at me and making fun of me? Had I really told them something too silly or too stupid? My Dad seemed to sense my frustration, because he folded his safe arms around my tiny frame and held me even closer to his chest. Well, at least my Dad didn't think he had some stupid little duffer on his lap who couldn't even think straight. Immediately, I restarted to feel better. My wise Dad still loved me, and therefore all those silly laughers around me could... No, I didn't want to use any bad words on them, now that I had started to feel happy again.

Finally, after all the people around me stopped laughing and were ready to listen again, my wise Dad explained to me:

"My dear son, although you are a very clever brainiac, you simply cannot understand the complicated outside gadjo world, because you never left our secluded Gypsy camp. Therefore, I will try to explain a few things in advance about how those gadjo's are using 'trading' and 'working for money'. To start with, their so-called 'money flaps' are made of a very special paper, and those signs on them are extremely complicated and therefore almost impossible to duplicate. Besides, if you ever duplicate any gadjo money and their 'police' catches you, they will 'convict' you, send you to 'prison', and lock you up in a 'cell' for a very long time, as punishment for your 'misdeeds'."

In the meantime, Michail had fished a small piece of colored paper out of his pocket and handed it to Misha. With a happy face, Misha hopped off Michail's lap, trotted towards our Royal wooden bench, and handed the piece of colored paper to me. After performing a deep bow towards my parents and me, my older friend trotted back to Michail and just retook his seat on my Big Friend's inviting lap.

Feeling very curious, I took the piece of 'gadjo money' into both hands, smoothed its crumples, and stared at it. For the first time ever, I was looking at such a gadjo 'money flap' that our people had to use in the gadjo world to buy their gadjo things, after they had done some work for those shrewd gadjo's and had been paid with their money flaps. Indeed, this special kind of colored paper felt strangely solid! Next to feeling solid, its surface was also littered with tiny curls, small dots, and other funny looking thingies. Printed across the paper, in bold signs, I saw an emphasized text that seemed to be important. Fortunately, both my parents and Michail had already taught me to read and count, so I was able to decipher the bold text:

'1 0 0 0 0 L E I'

Now feeling even more curious, I asked my Dad:

"Dad? A one followed by four zero's, is that a lot? And what is the meaning of that bold printed gadjo word 'LEI'?"

Smiling at seeing my over-curious face, my Dad responded:

"Yes, my clever brainiac. Normally, 'ten-thousand' is quite a lot, but not for this money. And 'LEI' is what the Rumanian gadjo people are calling the 'value' of their colored money flaps."

Huh? The 'value' of this small piece of colored gadjo money was ten-thousand LEI? That certainly had to be a lot! My clever brainiac brain tried to imagine how much that could be; but how in the world could it ever imagine ten-thousand pieces of something? That had to be thousand plus thousand plus thousand plus... And, thousand was hundred plus hundred plus... And, hundred was ten fingers plus ten toes plus ten fingers from my Dad plus... Involuntarily, I started to squint and feel dizzy, from my trying to figure out how many all those fingers plus all those toes from ten-thousand people in our Gypsy camp would be.

After shaking my head, to get rid of all those impossibly big numbers, I asked my still smiling Dad:

"Dad? You are talking about 'this money' and 'the Rumanian gadjo people', so I suppose there will be other kinds of money flaps from other gadjo people in other foreign countries as well?"

"Yes, my extremely clever deep thinker! Every foreign country in the outside world has its own kind of colored money flaps, with their own unique values printed on them. This particular money flap is a piece of Rumanian money from the gadjo country we are living in."

Again, I stared at the boldly printed number on my colored money flap that indicated one hundred times one hundred LEI. Of course, I knew roughly how much one hundred fingers were, but how could my still very young brain ever imagine one hundred times as much, to count ten-thousand pieces of anything? This enormous number would be way too much to count, even if all our people in our entire camp would put all their fingers and all their toes together...

Again, my bright brainiac brain started to think. Perhaps, it would be easier to visualize a couple of simpler things first, for example one hundred circles of one hundred caravans around our campfire? In vain, I tried to picture one circle of one hundred caravans that were neatly placed around our glowing campfire first; and then ninety-nine more circles that had to enclose each other...

Almost feeling dizzy from the sheer impossibility, I exclaimed:

"You really can buy ten-thousand caravans, by using only such a small flap of money in that gadjo world?"

For a second, silence fell over our camp. Then, our caravan windows started to rattle from all the people bellowing with laughter and slapping their knees in sudden fun! A couple of sleeping birds in our big tree woke up and protested fiercely by flapping away whilst twittering loudly, probably looking for a quieter sleeping place. Feeling frustrated, I stared at our faintly glowing campfire. What else could be the meaning of such an enormous number on this piece of colored gadjo money? In vain, I tried to understand why my people were laughing at me, or where the fun could be...

After all the laughing people around me calmed down, my Dad explained to me that anything of value in the gadjo world has its own 'price'. In Rumania, the gadjo's are using several different kinds of money flaps, each flap having its own color and its own value printed on it. For example, the Rumanian gadjo's are using money flaps of 1000 LEI, 2000 LEI, 5000 LEI, 10000 LEI, 20000 LEI, 50000 LEI, and so on. After people have done some work in a gadjo town, the gadjo's will pay them the value of the amount of work they did, by counting out enough flaps of money whilst adding their values.

After I had thought this over and nodded that I understood; my Dad went on. To buy food or other valuable things in gadjo shops or markets, you can pay its 'price' by summing up all the values that are printed on your money flaps. For example, if something costs 3000 LEI and you pay for it with 10000 LEI, you will probably get one flap of 5000 LEI plus one flap of 2000 LEI in return. If you ever disobey any of their 'laws', their gadjo 'police' can punish you by locking you up in a 'cell' or by giving you a 'fine', that is an amount of money you will have to pay to their 'state' as punishment. The gadjo money in other countries works basically the same; but their money flaps look different, are called different, and represent other values. For example, this colored money flap of 10000 LEI represents only 4 DOLLARS in another part of the world that is called 'America'.

Because I wanted to think all this newest information over first, I closed my eyes and retreated into my inside. So far, all the things my Dad had told me about using gadjo money for trading work or goods sounded logical. Only, why did my inside feel still wary about some hidden catch? Supposed, I was hungry and living alone in a forest, but I had only some gadjo LEI money flaps. How would I ever be able to buy food or other edible things with those pieces of colored money paper, whilst living in the middle of nowhere?

There was my hidden catch! What was the REAL value of any money flaps if you couldn't go to a gadjo shop or a market to buy THEIR food? Ultimately, by using their money, those gadjo's literally FORCED you to live near other gadjo's who were using that same kind of money and could sell their food to you! If you were living alone and far away from any gadjo shops or markets, their paper money didn't represent any value at all. Therefore, ultimately, working for those gadjo's and accepting their colored 'money flaps' did cost you your own personal freedom!

Yes, there was the hidden catch I had been looking for. Or, could my still inexperienced brain have overlooked something important? Why were all those gadjo's using that same kind of money, although they should know they were making themselves dependent on each other? Didn't those shrewd gadjo's have any personal pride? Although I thought and thought, I couldn't come up with any other reasonable explanation, other than those silly gadjo's being even more stupid than I already suspected in my youthful naivety...