The power of love: How one musical couple beat the odds together

The path to romance and happiness has certainly been a challenging one for the Oxford musician and her Sebian gypsy husband.

"It’s tricky for both of us – and for anyone in a cross-cultural marriage," says Faith, 31, who met initially met Branko in 2009.

"The balance is difficult between us at the moment as it is going to take a while for Branko to obtain the skills needed to negotiate the modern system – he only used a computer for the first time when he met me – which leaves a lot on my shoulders.

"But if we can accomplish what we have done so far, then I believe we can work through any obstacle."

The fact that Faith is talking from Oxford, where she and Branko are temporarily living, and they are on the cusp of releasing their debut CD, Gypsy Lover, is testimony to the strength of their love and tenacity.

They have fought difficulties of language, poverty, cultural differences, illness and immigration laws to be together.

Their story began when Faith, fresh from a stint as musical director with Cotswolds-based Giffords Circus, went to study accordion in Serbia.

She stayed four months and during that time met Branko, a poverty-stricken gypsy, with Type 1 diabetes.

“The circus had asked me to look for some Roma musicians whilst I was there," she recalls.

The couple were introduced and Faith spent many happy evenings playing music with Branko and his friends before she left.

“I was blissfully happy playing music with him, and felt incredible love towards him – but never considered this to be romantic in any way,” she says.

Back in Britain she toured again with Giffords Circus as a bandleader in a 1940s show; had a fling with a French tight-rope artist; cycled 2000km across China; worked in a touring children’s theatre show, taught piano in Oxford and toured with a brass band in Australia.

"But I was still not particularly happy,” she says.

Arriving back in the UK in 2011 she began to think of Serbia again. “In the end my mum advised me to go back. I had a strong feeling that I had begun something that was not complete – like a book half read,” she says.

In July 2011 Faith went back again and within two weeks the “brother and sister” love Faith and Branko had for each other had turned to the romantic kind.

“Branko later – when we could actually communicate – told me that a few months before this his relationship had finished and that his life has reached rock bottom," says Faith.

“When he was near death in hospital he had had a vision that a ‘white’ girl would arrive in his life who played music – and she would either raise him up or destroy him.

“Whether I believe in God, or energy, or something that shapes our path in life – it was at this time that I unexpectedly felt pulled to return to Serbia again.”

The couple became inseparable: there were still problems but one thing Faith never doubted were Branko’s feelings for her.

“I was assured in his honesty and complete goodness, I knew from long experience the dynamics of foreign men and girls with British passports but Branko would refuse to take my money and at the hilarity of others in his village would save up his money from weddings he played at to pay for the English girl’s food and taxis.”

The couple tried twice to get him a tourist visa for the UK but were refused and spent the winter of 2011 living in -30C weather in a small rented house, practising and composing music “and adopting freezing cats”.

They decided to get married in March 2012 but a week before the ceremony Branko went to get a tooth pulled and ended up in a severe condition in hospital on blood transfusions.

He recovered enough to be discharged on the day of the marriage and stagger to the wedding; and the next year began to get easier.

“I was awarded a UK Arts Council Grant to compose and record music in Serbia and the Serbian media began to pick up on our story,” says Faith.

“By December 2012 we had been on Serbian Big Brother, Marriage Judge and had several documentaries made about us.”

In 2013 the couple came to the UK to take part in Giffords Circus’s Serbian Gypsy themed show; over the winter they toured Australia with the gypsy band Lolo Lovina and returned to Serbia in March 2014.

Due to an Arts Council International Artist Development Fund grant they were able to develop and record a demo album which has now led to a fully recorded album (after a successful crowd funding campaign with Kickstarter), record contract and year of touring ahead.

"The grant was a huge boost to our morale, and a much needed impetus to keep going in our musical career: it demonstrated to Branko that so many people all over the world cared about his music, and reminded me of all my friends and contacts who obviously care so much about me," says Faith.

"It's really easy to forget about this when you are in such an isolated position and trying to forge ahead on your own."

Then came the job of getting the album – charting the story of their love and struggles – released.

"After five months of sending email after email from the unreliable wireless connection stolen from our next door neighbour's house in Branko’s village, I finally got the answer that I was looking for from World Music Network – a record company based in London who are at the forefront of music publishing," says Faith. "They loved our album and we signed contracts to release it with them upon our return to the UK."

However, Branko still had no visa and way to perform in the UK.

"The next step was to find a way for Branko to be able to at least have temporary access to my home country – both for gigs, which was an essential element of our record contract, and for personal reasons," says Faith.

What followed was almost a year of "wading through expensive administrative sludge" until in November 2015 Branko got his visa.

Now they are planning their album's release and preparing to perform and enjoying life in Oxford.

"Branko is currently enraptured by the Ashmolean museum and spends hours sadly staring at the Stradivarius in the collection, as he still doesn’t own an acoustic violin," says Faith.

"It’s really amazing to see someone so enraptured by knowledge and things that I have taken for granted – and been bored by – in the UK.

"He loves watching trains, looking through a microscope, watching cross dressers in Soho – and his dream is one day to be able to study astronomy. "It is a little sad to have lost the sheer innocence and creativity of our past life in his village, but it had also become necessary for me to re-embrace parts of who I am – and for us as musicians to move into the world music scene.

"Sometimes my heart melts for Branko, who, although many may call him – and others who have been granted visas – lucky, would give anything to be able to live at home and be near his family.

"Branko’s dream is to be able to live in his own country, and not a day goes by where he doesn’t long to be in his village, but since Serbia was destroyed by Milosevic and the succeeding Nato interventions and economic crisis, it is impossible for us to survive there."

The couple may still face difficulties ahead but Faith says: “The very fact we have stuck together through so many obstacles has created a glue between us that I believe will be hard to break.”