The way that the Rom refers to the passing of time is quite different from that of the gadje. The Romany were, and still are, a nomadic people who live by trading, crafts, and their wits. They see themselves as a separate race from the house dwellers. The months and seasons of planting and harvest mean little to them, as they are not farmers. The years of the kings and religious figures of the gadje mean even less to them. Instead, they reckon time by relating it to shared events.
Having no clocks, the Rom figured the time of day by their meals. They ate only two meals a day: breakfast and dinner. Thus the early morning was "before breakfast," while "after breakfast" covered them until about noon. "Before dinner" was their afternoon, and "after dinner," the evening. It is not reportd, but may be assumed that the Rom might also have words for day, night, sunrise, sunset, and midday.
As travelers, the Rom were concerned with only two times of year-when the weather was good enough to travel, and when the snow and cold prevented it.
"Summer," when they can travel the open road, is the eight or nine months that we refer to as 'spring,' 'summer,' and 'autumn.' "Winter" is the remainder of the year, when snow and rain force them into the cover of their wagons; huddled around their stoves, they pass the long, miserable nights by telling stories.
The years are not numbered. Instead, they would refer to "the summer that Musa's first child was born," or "the winter that we were stuck in the snow in the mountains and the wolves attacked," or "the year that we sold those three geldings at the big horse fair."
Places are not referred to in the same way: places where events happened, not spots on the map. "The city where we became rich," "the place where they hold the horse fair," "the place where the Shanglo caught Roncero and jailed him."
However, there is one small consideration in this otherwise tidy little model: the Rom, who make part of their living from carnivals and horse-fairs were able to travel long distances and show up at the appointed place at more-or-less the right time (give or take a week). They, or their leaders, seem to be aware of the Gadje's calendar, and use it when necessary, while among themselves they exist in a timeless now where one year flows into the next.
So, how do we use this?
First of all, do not refer to the clock time when customers can hear you-use instead the proximity of meals or the position of the sun.
As for the months, it would seem we are beginning to use Gypsy reckoning already; we are saying "it was just after Dirt Faire" rather than "July."
For the years, I suggest the following custom: as the end of each year, perhaps at the New Years party, we decide on a few noteworthy events (suitably embroidered, if necessary) with which to name the year in the future.
So remember: dates mean nothing, numbers are meaningless (unless you are bargaining, then give them hell); time only has meaning by its relation to events.
Reference:
Yoors, Jan. The Gypsies. Simon and Schuster, New York, 1967.