Lorraine, the gypsy with his tank of gas ... I was supervisor of street units that went in camps to address the problem of drug addiction ... I was consistently struck by incredible stories, literally from another world, often in the car sliding along the Olympic was divided from them by only a few meters before taking this job did not realize that the gap could represent a distance, physically as well short, unbridgeable by a glance ... The history leaves a sense of bewilderment, disbelief, even a physical sensation of dirt that will stick on the way home I always want to take a shower, distract, rooted in my everyday safety, renew the reading parameters of my world ... Our work was motivated by the widespread use of drugs among the Roma community .. what has always struck me is the massive involvement of children sniffing gasoline, cigarettes and coffee have been common since an early age, we talk of children 4 years ... drugs such as cocaine are socially accepted because it reinforces male potency, and smoking heroin is the stuff of women ... the problem within the camps was not perceived as such until that young people have begun to steal within their own communities, in violation of rules and ancient Roma leaders so disconcerting, that's why, for this, gladly accepted our help. Here is the story of Lorraine, 9 years ...
What? My name? Gadje for you my name is Lorraine.
I called Lorraine and I have 9 years, that's who I am! Today my mother is not I who bado the cabin and the other children.
I was born in Kosovo before the war, then one night we left in a hurry, without being seen. My mother was afraid: he said they would kill all my brothers and my dad if we had stayed there. The one that comes down from BMW? My sister Sarah was born in Rome, however, the Muratella here where we live now, has 4 years. In those days men prepare the barracks for the winter. They search among the many waste scattered around what he can serve. Wood from old fixtures and cabinets, large and small plastic to slide off the rain. Broken doors, windows, sheet metal, everything goes well for our house. It is to plug every hole to not let the cold wind from the sea in Rome. Around our house there are the families of two brothers from my father and a sister of my mother and grandmother who is the oldest of all. Even the other cabins are working males.
We are four of us and I will be more my brothers Ivan and Kevin, but I also have another eighteen cousins \u200b\u200bwho sleep in the three neighboring houses.
What do we do? I told you prepare homes for winter, then we play and try to eat.
Like where? Around the road at the traffic lights around.
What games? The games are games of landfill at the end of the game or do you always bring food or money or something else useful, I know an old garment. What do I eat? Well! My mother left the room for me and my brothers, but it's just I do not think a chicken will do.
Ah! A new game invented it Manlio who came from Belgium, says that he does in all fields. What game? But, as you do not know, if you in all areas?!
Manlio is the son of Uncle Istvan is 13 years old and plays with the electric keyboard on the tram line. Manlio is strong.
Ah the game! The game is looking next to your car or near the caravan. If you look closely there is always a can with a little ' gas inside. You do not have to show to anyone. Get the tank and looking for a quiet place to hide. Manlius, but he no longer concealed. Then take the tank to close the mouth and nose take a long breath waiting for a bit ', then we do another, then another, then another. It takes a little and gasoline is easy to find. It's like a dream you feel that you turn your head and all around the world disappears and you feel strong, great, invincible. Then you fall asleep, almost, you run out and realize faster time passes without pain. Now we also play as Sarah who is 4 years old and does not complain as it was before, all they do in the fields among the huts, we we are stronger than other children, we are Roma
