Settled in 95% of cases, those who continue to be called ‘Travellers’ in the Czech Republic can only feel marginalised in a society that systematically disparages them. This is about converging discrimination, which excludes a group from society. Zuzana, a 23-year-old carer in a home for the elderly in Bohemia, wanted to bear witness to this.

According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), two out of five Roma children do not attend primary school. Poverty and difficult living conditions are the common fate of Roma youths, and these conditions do not, in fact, favour their schooling. All the more so as the parents themselves are often illiterate. As a result, in the Czech Republic, Roma children are confined to education for the mentally handicapped, despite a recent law intended to prevent such a systematisation. “If I and my brothers eluded special education, it is thanks to the persistence of my mother”, confided Zuzana to Europolitics,nevertheless confirming that the placement of Roma children in special education continues.

Due to a lack of schooling, the Roma population has been relegated to manual jobs. However, since the end of Communism, demand for these jobs has fallen significantly. And, with the almost simultaneous arrival of new techniques, capitalisation and globalisation, the community again found itself even more destitute than it had been in the Soviet era. Despite her lack of qualifications, Zuzana stands a greater chance than others: she succeeded in getting hired and feels respected by her colleagues. On the other hand, she considers herself to be underpaid due to the absence of a diploma. “My work is hard,” she explained. “I look after old people who can no longer get up, they must be lifted in order to be washed, and must be fed in bed.”

On the political side, there are only a few leading figures, such as Václav Havel and Michael Kocáb, who show their support for the Roma community. Zuzana has had enough of always having to do more than others in order to make the grade. “You must always pay attention to how you are dressed, work harder, show that you are worth as much as others. And this will always be the case. Having a dark complexion is sufficient to be categorised. Although I am doing my utmost, there is always somebody who calls me a dirty Gypsy,” she laments.

Zuzana is well aware that the Roma are not saints. She acknowledges their tendency to lie and steal. She says they are often rude and uneducated. Spirits, gambling and prostitution are their main problems. “But I always tell the white Czechs that we do not kill, and that we may want money but not millions in the bank,” she says, criticising the widespread corruption in the country and the misappropriation of funds.

She makes a point of distinguishing between petty crime and major crime. Citing the case of some remote villages in Slovakia populated by Roma, she explains: “They have nothing. A plain dirt floor, without tiles or floorboards, everything in ruins, no money and no education. They have never known anything other than their village. How do you expect them to be able to imagine obtaining what they do not know? Where would they start?”

Zuzana also underlines what she believes separates the Roma from the non-Roma in her country: hospitality. “With us, when somebody comes to visit, we spontaneously offer them a drink, dance, eat and have fun,” she says.

“They,” she asserts, referring to the other Czechs, “leave you on the landing and, via the half open door, you see the husband lounging in front of a stupid television series, with his beer. They do not know how to party. They celebrate a marriage with ten guests, who all spend 22 hours in their home,” she says, ironically. For Zuzana, “the only solution to the rejection of the Roma would be to open up society to interaction. Little by little. This may take 50 years, but by starting with young children it should be possible”.

Like several Roma from the Czech Republic, Zuzana would therefore like to leave this country in which she sees little possibility of a future. “I was born here, I have an identity card, I pay my taxes, I work, but I do not have the right to be considered a Czech. Therefore I profess to being a Gypsy. I will always feel like a foreigner in my country, I have no future here. I only think about leaving, as soon as I have completed my two years of studying”. And she asks herself: “Is it true to say that, elsewhere, in a more integrated society, people will no longer point the finger at me?”.

One thing is certain: if a message was required to underline the problems of discrimination encountered by the Roma in Europe and the paradox this represents, that issued in July by Canada could not have been clearer. By reintroducing visa requirements for the Czech Republic in order to curb the influx of asylum requests submitted by the country’s Roma population, Ottawa sent a clear signal to Europe: it is up to the latter to ensure the integration of the Roma, who are fully-fledged European citizens - not only in theory - and the leading European minority group, with ten to 12 million people.

Due to a lack of schooling, the Roma population has been relegated to manual jobs. However, since the end of Communism, demand has fallen significantly