Chatting with Lisabeta!

-Hello Lisabeta! How are you today?

Through Daniel who has been one of my home care people this winter I have learned her name is Lisabeta, not Elisabeta which my Swedish ear first heard. As I have mentioned before Lisabeta is the Romani woman earning her living outside my grocery store. We have met twice a week for 1,5 year now. Before Daniel came into my life I mostly bought her a grilled chicken, since that was what she asked for. Sometimes fruit.

It was really frustrating to me that I couldn’t communicate with Lisabeta. She knows a few words in English and three Swedish. And of course I don’t know any Rumanian. But then life brought me an interpreter! Daniel who himself comes from Rumania and has been here for about two years. His Swedish is impeccable, that young man really has a good ear for language!

So, I got to know Lisabeta lost her husband early. Her elderly mother is back in Bucharest while Lisabeta’s two children in their early twenties are here In Umeå with her, as well as her three young grandchildren. Daniel tells me it is rare for a Romani woman only having two children, which would be explained by her husbands death.

Now, I wanted to find out how to communicate the most basic with Lisabeta. Daniel became my teacher, and I learned Rumanian is a mix of latin base language, slavic and also some rests from old Daccia, the original Rumania. This was so exciting!

As I am a little bit familiar with Italian I jumped on everything that was related to that language, it was easy to learn, and fun, I loved it!. But the slavic heritage… I just can’t wrap my head around it! It’s interesting how difficult a word can be when you can’t connect it to anything at all, no matter how bad you want to learn it. Thanks for example, I just had to drop that one. Lisabeta knows thank you in Swedish though, so it isn’t the end of the world.

Lisabeta's and mine twice a week dates now are so much fun. And this is how are conversations goes, in Rumanian:

-Hello Lisabeta!

-Hello Maria!

-How are you doing today?

-Good. (Or sometimes not good). How are you doing?

-Not good (way to often). What do you want today?

-Meat. Or fish. Or potatoes and oil. Or baguette and butter. Or eggs. Or fruit. Once pizza

I pick up my groceries as well as her’s and handing them over afterwords I say:

-There you go (which is with pleasure)

-Thank you Maria (which she says in Swedish)

-Stay well!

-Thank you. Stay well you too

-Bye bye! (which is until we see each other again, like Italian)

I don’t think I have bought Lisabeta chicken since she was able to tell me what she really wants.  Chicken was probably the only word she could express in English. And of course I feel ashamed about responding to her “How are you doing” with “Not good”. At least I am not on my knees on a purple cushion in a cold and dark country far away from home. But I consider us friends and I can’t lie to a friend.

Did I mention we are laughing a lot? So happy to chat with each other even though quite restricted. And Daniel complimented my pronunciation the other day saying “Now you don’t need me any more” But of course I do, I want to learn more!

And life brought me the interpreter!

Earlier this fall I was telling the story about Elisabeta, the Romani woman making her living outside my grocery store. She has been on her knees on the purple inflatable cushion for more than a year now, always happy with a smile on her face however dark, rainy, snowy and cold the Umeå winter is.

We see each other Mondays and Thursdays as I am picking up my groceries and we talk to each other in the little language we have in common, a few words of English. What can I get you today? Chicken. Most often she needs a warm grilled chicken or some fruit. Sometimes money for gas for her cold trailer where she lives with her three little children. I wonder if she waits for me Mondays and Thursdays. Trusting and knowing those days she will return to her family with something to eat or with the possibility to buy heating for a few days.

I feel like we are friends, Elisabeta and me, although I am fully aware of me being in absolute power. And I have been dreaming of being able to talk to her for real. To find out what it was like being back in Rumania this summer. What it is like being here besides the cold and dark. Getting to know her a little bit.

A few weeks ago it was time for some staff changes within my home care company. It happens on a regular basis, as working in home service is more or less a transition job.  It is always hard on me. Connecting-getting to know-feeling safe-becoming friends is a process taking it’s time, and loosing-grieving-letting go meanwhile welcoming new people starting all over again is pretty draining. I know it will always be okay in a while, and often more than okay, even amazing, but the transition is difficult.

This time around one of the new people in my life is Daniel. He is a sweet young man, about 20. I couldn’t quite trace his accent first time we met. I was figuring maybe Finnish with something more mixed into it. It turned out he was Rumanian. He came to Umeå in his mid teens to stay with his uncle and went to school here for a year before returning to Rumania where he was for five years. But decided on Umeå again this spring. His Swedish is absolutely amazing, and as every young person from other countries and cultures I have met who has made difficult decisions following them through, he is reflective and wise and by experience more my age than 20. 

Imagine my excitement when I realized Daniel would be able making Elisabeta and I talk to each other!!!

The Monday afternoon was dark and rainy when Elisabeta and I greeted each other with our usual cheery hello. And I said, Elisabeta I have brought a gift for us, this is Daniel!

Daniel started talking to her in Rumanian and she was probably in a mild chock. Except for the Romanies there isn’t a lot of Rumanians in Umeå. She looked down, stroke her eyes, partly covering them, I had a feeling she was uncomfortable. In the store later I asked Daniel. Yes, she was probably startled by the situation. And maybe ashamed to meet a compatriot, bent on her knees. A compatriot who is still different.

Placing the warm chicken in her hand, she asked me through Daniel if I knew somewhere they could set up their trailer. Due to a road construction the Romany camp is evacuated by the City from the piece of land the church has been letting up for them until now. I felt so ashamed shaking my head saying no, I am so sorry, but no.

And of course I am thinking I am out here at the end of the road on my own land. There is place for a trailer. But they want to be all together and they need water and toilets. I am discussing with Daniel on our way back here, and yes, they need to be not too far from the city either, where they make their living. But still. As I am warm on my couch in the evening. But still.

Monday this week Elisabeta had good news, they had been offered rooms at a shelter. It made me so happy and maybe even more happy that she through Daniel could bring me the news! This was the second time for the three of us, and Elisabeta seemed to be more at ease with the situation. She asked me what was wrong with me. For more than a year now she has watched me being helped in and out of the home care car by a number of aids. Now I could tell. She was concerned and wished me good health and  would pray for me. And she thanked me for my good heart and soul and on top of that she thought I was beautiful! Forte beautiful! We all laughed and Daniel told me they they were using the Italian word forte (which means strong) for amplification all the time.

Being helped into the car afterwards I was so grateful for my conversations with Elisabeta and the many to follow, and I thanked Daniel for giving me this gift which I had been longing for such a long time. The wise reflective young man replied “It’s not me giving you a gift, it’s life”.