Welcome...
usk falls, stretching lazy fingers of purple-tinged light across a field of tents, pools of shadow forming in the walkways, refuge for those seeking a moment of respite. Conversations rise and fall, rhythmic words seeming almost like a chant as one camp's words blend with the next, the scent of woodsmoke and evening meals tantalizing and tempting. Here, a group of men, clad in dark colors, heads bent in serious, quiet talk, eyes lifting to flick about, taking note of who might be noticing them. There, the almost inaudible swish of skirts as two women walk past, arms tucked into one another's, their escort a step behind.
nd then the laughter comes. It is long, and loud, with deep, rolling echoes of merriment blending with high-toned giggles. The eye, the ear, the feet - all are drawn to the source of this amusement. A flash of firelight, flames leaping to darkening sky, and around the firepit, faces creased with smiles. Savory stew nearing completion puts its heady aroma into the air. And even as the stranger slows, stops, cries of welcome are sent. One of those around the fire rises, difficult to read much of their face beyond the flickering flames, and calls out in accented tones, "Come! We're making you our captive. Now join us for drink and food." It is difficult to resist such a polite demand, as many have discovered. For this is the camp of House Unity, the magyar gipsys.
omposed of warriors and poets, dancers and storytellers, craftsmen and those who simply cannot seem to stand being away from the house, House Unity is as diverse in nature as it is unified in the pursuit of joy and happiness. Under the care of Master Jozsef Forgas, sometimes bemused head of house, the gipsys and those they have captured, through one means or another, seem to thrive. Its people are easy to know, difficult to forget, and ever a surprise to those around them. Come learn more of them now...