Scenes From The Road Of Racism

After i returned to Germany, where i stayed in my friend’s caravan, i travelled to Hungary in a hired van. There are many people who drive vans across Europe and they rent space out to people looking for a less expensive alternative than the normal modes of transport across Europe.

It is cheaper, but the travel time is longer and you cannot escape the other people who are picked up along the way.

The van arrived an hour earlier than planned, which was strange because the driver was Hungarian. i have never known a Hungarian to arrive earlier than the planned rendez-vous, so i was not prepared. i quickly grabbed my things, including my French Press filled with freshly made coffee, loaded up the van and off we headed toward Hungary.

i realised something about myself as we drove through Germany, Austria and Hungary. i am a racist.

The passenger that boarded after me was a huge woman. She was so fat that i actually thought she was American. i wanted to help her, but i was afraid i would risk breaking my bones if i shoved her into the van. Eventually she was able to roll herself into the back row of the van.

The next stop we picked up two men. Before the men entered the van i had the following conversation with the driver.

“Are we those two riding with us?” i asked in concern.


“But aren’t they gypsies?”

“Yes, they are gypsies.”


i was never racist against gypsies until i spent three weeks in a Hungarian hospital. During my stay, a gypsy man came into my room after i had surgery and he stole my mobile. i was warned by everyone, but i thought they were being racist, but i was wrong.

The gypsy men entered the van, sat in the same row of seats as i was sitting in and we were on the road again. As we drove through Europe, we took rest stops and the two gypsy men separated themselves from the rest of us. They whispered to each other in a manner which made me think they were up to something devious. i became very nervous because i thought they plotting to take my camera.

As we neared Budapest i knew they would exit before i would, so i devised a plan of attack.

It was dark, my camera was still around my neck because i thought it was safer to keep it closer. i had decided the gypsy men would try to grab it as they exited the van, but i would be quicker. i would turn sideways and flash the camera into his eyes. Then i would reach down between my feet, grab my French Press, smash it in to his head and kick him until he fell out of the van.

The two gypsy men exited the van and we drove off into the night.

i was highly disappointed. i had planned a Sherlock Holmes maneuver, which i know would have worked, but they did not even attempt to grab my camera. i spent hours working on the plan and they ruined everything. Now i have a real reason to hate gypsies.

i am not condoning racism and do not think it is good to be a racist. i am only merely pointing out that i have something that needs to be addressed in my life. i am not perfect, even though i pretend to be in my imagination.

Below are some photos from the trip.

The French Press
a cola from Germany

more to come…

2 thoughts on “Scenes From The Road Of Racism

  1. I can say, as a Hungarian who lives in the capital city of Hungary, it is not so bad to racist against them. Every night I had the same thoughts run throught my brain. Otherwise I’m a lucky, I have never been attacked 🙂

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