I wonder about life as a gypsy.

I'm trying to keep an open mind about gypsies. Thinking of them as very nice people. Maybe different. But certainly nice. Not everybody thinks that way. There's a gypsy camp on the outskirts of Carbonia, the Sardinian city where I'm currently living. And I walk by the camp daily. I see gypsies. And they look like nice people. The women are dressed in long skirts and dresses. In other words, they look like stereotypical gypsies. But we all look like stereotypical somethings. Maybe I look like a nerd, for instance. Anyway, gypsies have a negative image in Carbonia. And I assume that goes generally all over. Maybe because they are so nomadic. They don't stay in any one place for a long time. My true love tells me that the gypsies here come mainly from Yugoslavia and Romania. And she tells me they have been known to steal stuff. And so one has to be careful around gypsies. But I wonder if that's really true. I have no qualms about walking past gypsies with money in my pocket. And when I see a gypsy, I try to make eye contact. And smile. I'd like to strike up a conversation with gypsies. But I'm assuming there's a language barrier. Though maybe some of 'em speak English. I'll ask. The gypsy camp seems full of small mobile homes and open shelters. And there's lots of garbage. Piles of it. Even around trash cans. The place could use a general clean-up. That might improve the gypsy image. There's also clothes and rugs and other knickknacks hanging over fences that surround much of the compound. I'm gathering that Sardinians/Italians are mostly tolerant of gypsies. Accepting them. Allowing them to stick around. If not mixed in with the rest of the community. At least they have their own place. Meanwhile, I wonder what life would be like. As a gypsy. --Jim Broede