Romania: A Cry for Help

  “They were forced from their homes in the name of structural development; told they would be given temporary housing for six weeks. When we saw them, they were living in cattle sheds, sleeping in stalls like animals. They had been there six months. As I left, a beautiful Roma woman with a baby at her hip stood on the steps of her cramped, dirty home. I was shocked to hear her speaking English, as she said: “You’ve got to help us.”

  This was just one of the heart-wrenching stories related to me by Virginia Darley, Project Director of the Libra Foundation, with whom I plan to spend two weeks in July as a volunteer working in Romania. The Libra Foundation has been ‘working to balance the needs of the young with the enthusiasm of youth’ since 1999. Every year, the Libra Foundation takes UK students out to work in Residential Centres housing mentally or physically disabled children, and to work with the local Roma populations.

  Through the rare provision of one-to-one attention as well as equipment for activities such as drama, arts and crafts, the students are able to provide these children with experiences they would never otherwise enjoy. Much has already been achieved: they have provided a multi-sensory room, the salaries for physiotherapists and vital learning equipment. “Most importantly, we provide continuity,” Virginia told me. “They know we’re coming back.” In the future, she hopes to be able to expand to more UK schools and encourage the charity to grow.

  The two groups Libra work with, children from Roma communities and those with special needs, are both ostracised and isolated by the majority of Romanians. The Roma – often tagged ‘gypsies’ – suffer from popular, outdated prejudices. “They don’t open up easily,” Virginia admitted, “but if you’re constantly bullied, constantly isolated, you don’t. Most of them are illiterate, and they’re very identifiable. This means they can’t get work. The parents often view school with suspicion, a part of the society which rejects them, an ethos we are trying to change.”

  Historical evidence suggests that the Roma originated in the Indian subcontinent and emigrated around the 11th century. Since then they have found little peace. Throughout the middle ages, they were persecuted and exiled from one country to the next. In parts of Europe, the crime of simply being of that race was punishable by imprisonment, branding and even death. In World War II, the Roma were the unsung victims of the holocaust, and it is estimated the Nazis murdered up to 800,000 of them.

  Unfortunately, many hostile attitudes endure to this day. The last time Romania suffered heavy rain, in Comanesti 18 Roma died and 50 lost their homes. However, the instant support extended from the local community seems to indicate positive change. When out in public with the children volunteers are warned by members of the public and even the police to the ‘dangers of being with the children.’ Virginia told me how, when being introduced to a class at a local Romanian school, she explained why she hoped Romanian students would also volunteer.

  “Unbeknown to me because I don’t speak the language, the teacher said to them: ‘You can either choose to work hard and get on in the world, or you can go and volunteer in that Roma School – I know which I would rather do!’ Our host was so embarrassed. I wish the language came more easily to me; I would have had a few things to say to him!

  However, it’s not just the Roma that suffer, and there remains an extremely negative approach to the disabled as well. “The attitude is that they should be left to die. The doctors there don’t seem to understand what disabled people can do; that they can still maintain a good quality of life. And they are such wonderful children.”

  Virginia emphasised the importance of changing these attitudes as a key aspect of the Libra Foundation’s work, hence their involvement with schools both in Romania and the UK. I asked her if she felt the Libra foundation had been able to alter these misconceptions. “Oh yes, definitely. It’s been a great cause of frustration for me, that they couldn’t understand what we were doing at first. Now, they’re used to seeing us, and when they do, it tells them: it’s okay to be with these children.”

  Last year, the summer volunteer programme raised and spent over £40,000 and because students cover administrative costs, almost 100% goes straight to those truly in need of it. The fundraising doesn’t come easy, however – I, for example, have committed myself to a 30m sponsored bike ride. The idea was suggested by the Welbeck Defence students involved. ‘Well, of course they can do it,’ I thought. ‘They’re all going to be in the SAS! I’m a journalist. Can’t I write a sponsored essay instead?’

  That said, it’s made for an excellent new year’s resolution, and considering the cause, I’m almost enthusiastic. Still, it prompted me to ask Virginia how she believes the UK students also benefit from the programme.

  “When we select the students, we look at who can help the project but also who the project can help. Students experience working in a different culture, as Romania is an eastern-European nation still emerging from Communism. It’s an empowering and life-changing experience. Students learn the value of teamwork, understand what it means to make long-term commitment, and find a sense of purpose. Many ‘lost’ students have, upon returning, gone into nursing, charity work, etc.”

  Finally, I asked how she would respond to the criticism that ‘charity ought to start at home’.

  “The fact is: we’re very privileged here in the UK; we live in a welfare state, in a culture that is famous for its charitable nature. In Britain, there exists an ethos of volunteering; in Romania, there is nothing. Ceauşescu forced people to volunteer when he was in power, and now his legacy is a knee-jerk reaction to Communism in which there is no room for such attitudes.”

  I firmly agree with her. You can argue that point until you’re blue in the face, until your ‘home’ becomes a veritable utopia, (arguably impossible, certainly improbable,) but there will always be the issue of proportionality: these people are more desperate than we in the UK can possibly imagine.

  I applied for a place on the Libra programme because of the opportunity to witness and work in such environments first hand. My aspirations as a journalist, and in international development, will demand this. I crave such experience to motivate me assure myself that I can work towards improving their lives in a pragmatic manner, without being overwhelmed by the conditions in which they are forced to exist. Beyond that, I am moved by the desire to understand, and to help.

  “They’re so vulnerable,” Virginia explained. “Children go into hospital and die needlessly; like they never would in a British hospital. I’ll never forget what that woman said to me: ‘You’ve got to help us.’”

  And nor should we.