It was 3 a.m. on a bitterly cold night in Dublin Port when Ion Zatreanu and his young family stepped out of the back of an articulated lorry and in to a new life. The 48-year-old father of four had sold his family car and other valuables to pay the driver €2,000 to smuggle them on the week-long journey across Europe, reports Carl O'Brien

After emerging, blinking, from the truck with the family's holdalls he used the last of his money, a creased €10 note, to pay for a taxi to bring them to the asylum-application centre.

"There was no future for us there," says Zatreanu, sitting at the kitchen table of his corporation house in Artane, in north Dublin. "There was no school for the children, because they were seen as Gypsies. Many around us were made homeless through arson attacks. I thought one day we could end up dead in the house. There was no future for the family."

A year and half later Zatreanu, who is also a former member of a Romany political party, has been officially recognised as a refugee and his children are attending the local primary school. Despite some initial coldness from a few neighbours when the family moved in to the housing estate, he says he has now made many friends in the area and feels welcome.

"When they saw my children going to the local school, and that we were a civilised family, they began to pay more attention to me. I think I gained their respect because of my behaviour and that of my family," he says.

Zatreanu's story is rare among Ireland's estimated 2,500-strong Romany community, however. Most of Ireland's non-Romany Romanians are migrant workers or professionals who are working here because of the relatively high wages and educational opportunities. The Romany community, on the other and, is typically made up of asylum-seekers and refugees.

Just a small proportion - about 5 or 6 per cent - have been recognised as refugees. Most were granted residency in the past on the basis of having Irish-born children.

The Minister for Justice, Equality and Law Reform, Michael McDowell, has designated Romania a safe country, meaning claims for asylum will usually fail, although human-rights groups are concerned about what they say are persistent and widespread problems regarding police attitudes and behaviour towards members of the Romany community.

Romany women here, dressed in distinctive traditional skirts and headscarves and sometimes accompanied by their children, are often highly visible as beggars or vendors of the Big Issues magazine. Most have travelled here from Romania, although they tend to mix only with other Roma rather than all Romanians.

In a sense, tensions between Roma and non-Roma in their home country have been replicated here. With high illiteracy levels, low school attendance and poor English, Ireland's Roma seem destined to replicate their traditional outsider status in their new home.

In the high-ceilinged function room at Pavee Point, the Traveller support centre in Dublin, everyone seems to be smiling. Band members are grinning as they crank out another Romanian pop song. A couple in flamboyant clothes smile nervously as they brave the empty dance floor. Groups of men gathered around are laughing among themselves.

But, above the din of the celebrations for International Roma Day, Zatreanu, who also volunteers with the Roma Support Group, is making a serious point about the isolation and desperation many in the community feel.

"When people see someone in the long skirt or traditional clothes they think she is a Gypsy and she is there to steal," he says, the frustration growling in his voice.

"Once, when my wife was shopping in the local supermarket, the security guard came up to her and told her she couldn't shop there. Then I came along and said, look, I am living five minutes from here, I am your neighbour: we are a responsible family; we have no need to steal. I didn't have any problem after that. He understood. Another person might not."

He accepts that negative attitudes towards the community have not been helped by the reputation that the Romany community has for begging.

"There are 2,500 of us here, and maybe out of this there might be 5 or 10 per cent who break the law. People who beg do so typically because of serious needs they have, not to get rich or to sell on anything," he says.

But there is still the awkward reality that other asylum-seekers, in similar circumstances, rarely resort to begging.

Sorina Selaru, a Cork-based Romanian outreach worker with Sonas, a support centre for asylum-seekers, says they may simply be unaware that begging has been banned.

"Begging on the street in Romania is allowed: there are no legislative restrictions. They don't know that here. When I see Roma in Cork begging I'll try to approach them and tell them about it."

Diana Nacu, a translator and interpreter, represents the other face of Romanians living in Ireland. She describes herself as a middle-class woman who decided to move here to work and study as a 20-year-old.

"It wasn't lack of money or standing or living or our leadership that made me come here. It was a cultural experience. There was no cultural shock. I had no problem speaking English. The big difference was the happy, jolly atmosphere," she says.

Most of her work here has been as a translator or interpreter for Romanians or Roma seeking asylum. "They are sensitive issues. You're dealing with people's lives and personal problems. There are lots of sad stories."

She says the only way to deal with these issues is to remain dispassionate and detached, difficult as that may be. "I'm not a person [at work\]: I'm like a translation machine. . . . If I take a second to think about the stories you can get lost. Often it can be quite overwhelming. But I am a professional and you have to be detached and even quite cold. It's the requirement of the job."

There are tensions between Roma and non-Roma at home, Nacu says, but unlike many she says she has a deep interest in the nomadic community. "I find the culture and the nomadic spirit fascinating, but I don't think Romanians are very interested in who they are. On a social level they are excluded. And when you exclude someone you do so out of fear or ignorance."

There are similarities between Irish society's treatment of Travellers, she says, although she suspects the treatment of ethnic minorities is worse in Romania. "Ireland seems to be that bit more civilised: discrimination doesn't appear to be as severe here. It's another context."

Back at Pavee Point Zatreanu is trying to remain upbeat despite the obstacles facing the community. "This [International Roma Day\] is a day to celebrate our existence, our culture, our music, our food," he says as the room buzzes with activity behind him.

"I think the Roma people here will integrate well in to Ireland. If we don't we will be marginalised.

"We have to show what we can contribute to the country. We are not here just to eat and sleep.

"We need Irish authorities to reach out to us and help provide education, training and English-language classes for Roma people," he says, his eyes narrow and determined.

"I am a painter, decorator and tiler. I do not want to rely on the Irish Government for anything. I am happy. I have a quiet life with my children. I know my children will have a future in this country."