Ring, ring. “Ela koukla mou.” Come, have a coffee, says Mitsos. New visitors have arrived at the campsite.
A large group I’ve never seen before fills Mitsos’s “front door” of their basement home. A rotund gypsy, a xadelfos, cousin, surrounded by an ample wife and 5 kids crowd around Mitsos’s plastic table, the kids wearing clothes so new the fold lines haven’t had time to fall out. The boys sport fresh haircuts with sides buzzed and tops left longer to curl into playful cowlicks and pompadours. All ears are pierced and studded with solid black posts or faux diamonds. No one introduces me and when I ask to make photos, the cousin cries, Oxi! Oxi! No! No! as he stuffs a large piece of bread laden with feta and ham into his mouth. A sumptuous spread of food lays on the table, an uncommon sight here at Mitsos’s house, but only the visitors appear to be eating. His wife wastes no time ripping off chunks of bread and chewing cheese and meat while talking loudly. The teenaged boys ask me to take pictures of them leaning into the bright fenders of the family’s BMW. Mitsos’s family gathers round but he is more reserved and not his jovial self. I learn that the cousins hail from Karditsa.
Although only a small minority, wealthy Roma do exist, entrepreneurs trading in used cars, carpets, antique furniture and art throughout eastern Europe. In Buzescu, Romania, just 50 miles south of Bucharest, a whole village of fantastical Victorian-style mansions has sprung up, a testament to Roma skills and ingenuity. Their houses are adorned inside with fairy-tale murals and vast rooms barely furnished. Much of the daily living—cooking, eating, socializing—takes place out in the front yard, a communal living area much like where Mitsos and his extended family gather.