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Nasso heard some noise from the outbuildings of the villa estate. He turned, took a few steps, and saw a relatively young, dark-skinned man tearing off a siding sheet from an outhouse. Nasso met the same Roma man the previous time he came to look over the villa in this abandoned place.
"Hello! How are you?" Nasso picked up the conversation banally. The man said hello too.
"Picking up firewood again?"
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The resident of the Roma Mahala nodded and continued to look over the outhouse for anything else of interest. He told Nasso he had been gathering firewood last time when they met. This was one of the two most natural explanations in this area. It was located in a mountainous, wooded landscape just below the border of The Central Balkan National Park, and not far from the town's Roma neighborhood The Mahala. Nasso knew that the Mahlenite had come for something else though. because he had seen him finishing a building for his horse several times; it was at the upper end of the Roma Mahala; on a piece of land above the ravine, fenced with a wire net. The building was made of improvised materials like the ones here: tin sheets, plywood, boards... Nasso's acquaintance was clearly not one of the wealthy Roma, but he did not look like someone in need of food, household items, or anything to sell for a little cash. The man was relatively young and handsome, with a rather intelligent appearance. He was thin, with a short beard, well groomed, and cleanly dressed. Nasso got one more occasion to wonder what the Mahlenites had been eating to look so healthy and fresh. There were few Roma suffering from obesity, especially if it is about the younger ones. All of the town's population would buy food from the same stores. The Roma, although living in houses with yards and very close to nature, rarely grew their food themselves.
As for the horse, Nasso was downright envious of the Mahlenite. Oh, the horses! They were part of Roma's continued connection to the land - at least those not living in large cities. Small groups of horses roamed and grazed throughout the surrounding area, either set free or slightly restricted in their movement by roping their forelegs. The locals probably mostly used them to transport felled trees. As a vehicle in the mountains, horses were ecological, economical, and gave more independence. Children and young people played with the horses and harnessed them. Young men rode them while transporting the trees. They did this by tying the logs to the saddles, cleared of branches, and hauling them along dirt roads, trails, or straight through meadows. This happened most often at dusk. Groups of women and children separately carried the branches removed from the trunks, with special carts, adapted from old prams,
For the time being, Nasso had managed to protect from logging his meadow, the grove when he had built his shanty, and a small area around them. "I live permanently here, and I also need these trees, for firewood and building," he said when once asked, or rather announced, about someone's intention to "clean up" his territory. Nasso's two big dogs were very helpful in guarding his trees. When he wasn't there, the dogs kept watch, tied to two trees next to the shanty, with makeshift nylon sheds to shelter in the case of rain, snow, or strong wind. Otherwise, they lived with him inside. The dogs would make a lot of noise, when anyone approached, be it Mahlenites, a herd of sheep or cows and herding dogs, or natives of the near town's district. The latter was a former village integrated with the town. Nasso's territory bordered a dirt road, which led to the fountain with the best mountain water in the area; a road fork continued through the villa area to Mahala and the north of the town. So there were quite a few pedestrians and cars for a non-urban place.
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On his way to the local Kaufland, Nasso liked to pass through some of the two major streets in the Roma mahala leading to the main road. At first, the Mahlenites were suspicious of him and watched his every glance at the houses and yards. But gradually, they stopped paying him much attention. Mahala was remarkable in a special way. It differed from the stereotype of a Roma ghetto. There lived almost only Roma, except for the first two or three rows of houses and blocks. of flats. Nasso had heard a real estate broker say that Roma people always settle next to the best scenery. Many of the houses in Mahala were large like cooperatives, two or three stories high, and built to modern standards. The houses at the upper end of Mahala were small and modest, but they also corresponded to today's tastes. At dusk, the lighted windows revealed a rather pleasant setting inside. Just few of the homes looked miserable and unmaintained. The people in Mahala were clearly living well. Nasso had heard that this was mostly due to the money sent by relatives, living abroad. There were also Mahlenites who worked in the larger enterprises of the town. At the end of the working day, almost only Roma would come out of the dairy company, located very close to Mahala. There were also quite a few builders among the Mahlenites. Several Roma farmers owned herds of sheep and cows. The shepherds in the neighborhood were almost Roma only.
Mahala was buzzing with life. Many children and young people were playing and having fun in the streets. In general, Mahlenites spent a lot of time on the street, in the common space. The yards were quite open to the community; unlike the neighborhoods with ethnic Bulgarians, with their solid fences or high walls, completely hiding the yard. One of the four town's primary schools, which was located closest to Mahalat, had only Roma students. That ethnic segregation apparently suited everyone, because no one protested. From the houses in Mahala, loud chalga music was often sounded so loudly that could be heard far away; chalga songs were in Bulgarian, Romani, or Turkish. Nasso had observed in the street, among a crowd of Mahlenites, a wedding horo dance led by handsome newlyweds. When some house had a party, Nasso could guess it from the food and drink in the hands of almost everyone in the street, along with the loud music, bright lighting, and crowding in the yard. The mood level of such celebrations was raised by a professional host DJ.
As for chalga music, it was played at parties in Bulgarian villas and houses, too, along with Bulgarian folklore with modernized arrangements and performances. Among the popular chalga performers, there were quite a few Roma, who sang in both Bulgarian and Romani. Nasso associated the chalga with Roma music, although he himself was a fan of authentic Roma folklore and authentic folk music in general. The Roma ethnic group, young, primary, vibrant, and growing as a share of the population, had already significantly influenced Bulgarian pop culture. And such an influence trend seemed steady.
The Mahlenite in the abandoned villa estate had ripped two more slats from the outhouse and was adding them to the pile of material on the ground. Nasso couldn't help but voice his thoughts out loud:
- It's a pity to watch it fall down. What if the owners, old or new, want to use their outbuildings?
The man shrugged, expressing indifference. He himself asked no questions and acted as if two people meeting in this way on a complete stranger's property were the most natural thing in the world. Nasso felt a need to justify his own presence here:
"I found out from neighbors where the elderly lady owner lives, and these days I am going to her place to ask for using the property."
The Mahlenite looked at him to see if he was putting any subtext to this information.
" I have a plot of land over there, near the fountain, and I live there. But now, I'm looking for a villa with electricity," Nasso added. "Because I work on the Internet, as a teacher of English, and need to charge my devices somewhere. I don't have electricity at my place. And you know, because of the pandemic, they closed the city library and all the cafes yesterday. Moreover, people have covered themselves in their houses like in fortresses, and are afraid to let anyone approach them... But there is apparently no electricity here. It is cut off, as I can see."
"It's got electricity," the man put in. "A man of the Mahala used to live here for a while… Also using the villa. And he had electricity."
"There might have been, but now, the cut wires are sticking out."
"They protrude only on the first floor and on the outbuildings. While in the little room on the second floor, there may be. Here they are, the wires from the power pole to the electricity meter on the terrace. They look fine."
"Do you think so? Ok, thank you for your help. I will check it next time. And now, I'm going home, 'cause it's getting dark. Have a nice evening!"
"Same to you!"
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