April 27, 2005

My time thus far has been different from last year, to say the least.

This newest saga began at the end of January—fresh-faced, rosy-cheeked, and only slightly green-horned, a new crop of PC(USA) (and a few Catholic) missionaries gathered in Louisville, Kentucky, for orientation before we were sent off to our respective corners of the globe. I touched down in Budapest on January 25 and hit the ground running, meeting that very same night for dinner with Emese, my boss, and Géza, a missionary/social worker whose unlucky lot it is to help me in my work. He had already planned a visit that very weekend to Beremend in southern Hungary and invited me to come with him.

Beremend is a village of 2,000 people with a Roma population of about 60 people—most of whom live on one particular side street, as is the case with most Roma living in rural areas. We were there to visit Péter Lakatos. Péter and his family of five live in a small, cramped house with two bedrooms and a kitchen. There is no running water, and in the winter, the family must trek through the cold and snow to go to their unheated, unlit outhouse.

I liked Péter from the moment I saw him. He is 42 and very good-natured, despite the severity of his situation. Péter is well liked by both the youth and the adults of the community. Spending time at Péter’s house means that you don’t have to go out into the community to talk to people; everyone comes to you. Péter’s wife is also a good-natured, welcoming woman. Until recently, she had a job, but now both of them are unemployed.

Lack of work was Péter’s most frequent topic of conversation when it came to the situation of the Roma in Hungary. He is a communist, and that makes sense—under the communist regime, everyone had a job (even if only on paper), and national identities were subjugated to the state. Since the fall of communism, unemployment among Roma has skyrocketed, and with the resurgence of nationalism, discrimination and violence against Roma is much more commonplace.

“They say that there is no discrimination in Hungary,” Péter told us, “but I see it every day. I have a very Hungarian name. If I call about a job, they always seem interested and say ‘come down and talk to us.’ But once they see that I’m a Gypsy, it’s always ‘The job has been filled, goodbye,’ and then they watch me leave to make sure I don’t steal anything on the way out. That’s what they’re afraid of—that I’ll steal and won’t work because I’m a Gypsy.”

A couple of days later, we had the second Roma seminar for the volunteers in Ukraine, which was great! Last year there were nine of us working with Roma issues in two countries (Ukraine and Hungary), and already this year, we have about 20 volunteers in eight countries (Hungary, Ukraine, Romania, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Russia, Germany, and Holland). Starting three years from now, we plan to have about 175 volunteers in more than 10 countries, with about 75 of those volunteers being Roma—it’s all very exciting!

I absolutely love my work—I’m traveling a lot, attending and/or organizing various conferences, and generally having a ball. Just about the only time I’m in my apartment is when I’m sleeping. I know I won’t be able to maintain this schedule forever, but right now, it suits me pretty well.

Speaking of travel, I’ve been to Ukraine twice in the past 30 days. The first trip was very much business. One of the big projects is the completion of the Roma church/school building in Gát, a village about 70 kilometers (60-90 minutes by car) from Szürte, the village where I served last year. We have manpower; now we’re looking for money to buy the necessary construction materials.

My second trip to Ukraine within the last 30 days was a week not only of work and problem solving, but also of celebration. The first was in Munkács at State School #14, the state school for Roma in Munkács. Two volunteers work there in the mornings, and this particular Friday was the school celebration of International Roma Day (April 8). The school director is relatively new, and many guests (several of whom are a part of the school administration bureaucracy in Ukraine) came to see all of the improvements the director has made to the school. The children sang, danced, performed various musical pieces, and recited verses. It was a fantastic day, and everyone was terrifically proud of the children, the school, and the director.

The second celebration was the one that lay closest to my heart—the official opening of the Roma school in Szürte, in which I taught as it was still being built. The building is beautiful, both inside and out. The Roma children now have a real, state-certified and state-paid teacher, as well as the two volunteers serving there. They follow a real curriculum in the mornings, just like the students at the regular school, receive lunch from the school, and then have extra lessons in the afternoon. My heart was bursting with joy and pride as I watched the ceremony unfold—the various speeches of thanks, the bestowing of the keys upon the Roma congregation, and the gifts of flags and wagon wheels to the Dutch who built the building. Somewhere between 200 and 250 people attended the ceremony, and I was amazed at the number of people from both of the regular schools and from the Hungarian Reformed congregation who attended. The children’s cries of “Uncle Grant, Uncle Grant!” warmed my heart.

That’s all for now—more will come in a couple months. Thank you for your prayers and support!

Christ’s Peace,

Grant Lovellette