Letter from Greece - Canadian Writers Abroad, published 28/7/2015
Twenty years and counting by Demetra Angelis Foustanellas Homecoming article - World of Greece Odyssey Magazine - September/October 2009 issue
It has been said that long before satellite television,
visual internet connections, cheaper telephone and flight rates, expatriate
Greeks sustained a profound obsession of the homeland. In spite of this, it
still took my husband Diamantis and I thirteen years to make the trip back to
his place of birth which incidentally arose rather unexpectedly even then. We
were married in 1975, in Ottawa, Canada and although nostalgic of the motherland,
we always seemed to be putting off this vacation for one reason or another.
Perhaps it was because by the late 60’s, my husband’s entire family, parents
and siblings had already made the long voyage across the Atlantic and settled
comfortably in the New World. Thus, I believe the strongest incentive pulling
us back was lacking at the time.
On the other hand, I was born in Ottawa and
although raised almost entirely by Greek cultural standards did not share his
deep passion of Greece. Maybe this was because my only hands-on experience, up
to then, was as a 6thgrader when my father and I spent the Christmas holidays
commuting between Volos, Skopelos and Thessaloniki visiting several members of
his large family before sailing off to Samos, the birthplace of my mother.
My memories of that vacation in 1968 are vague
but I do remember meeting a lot of friendly people who celebrated a humble
Christmas, (compared to our extravagant North American ado) and who also
endured their rainy winters with the modest of heating devices in their homes.
Although I missed having a white Christmas, it certainly was comforting that
the temperatures had not fallen low enough for it to snow.
The next time I found myself heading for
Greece was in 1982 after having decided, quite impulsively I might add, to
escort my husband’s not-so-elderly relatives back home. They had been visiting
us in Ottawa for a family wedding and had arrived from the island of Samos,
where my husband was also born. Since I was not working out of the home at the
time, it was easier for me to leave on a whim than it was for my husband, who
unfortunately could not leave his business on such short notice.
Never-the-less, he encouraged us to go and so, totally consumed by the idea of
a sunny holiday, I proceeded quickly to make the travel arrangements for our
young daughter Maria and I to depart with the relatives on their return flight.
At the Mirabel airport in Montreal, I suddenly
began to have some reservations about my decision. Truth was that I had no idea
where I was going as I could not remember much from my last visit to Greece.
Furthermore, I was a young mother with a child to care for primarily on my own,
this time. But, by the time we arrived in Athens I began to unwind,
naturally mesmerized by the clear, blue sky and warm embraces of relatives. A
week later, unable to resist the temptation of spending a few glorious weeks on
Samos with his family, my husband surprised us with his arrival.
Needless to say, we had a fabulous holiday
exploring most of the island. We swam daily, ate a lot of delicious mezedes,
admired the verdant beauty of the lush forests, indulged the aromatic
fragrances, took part in local traditions while pampered like royalty by his
family. Maria made friends easily with the local children and the month flew by
quickly. Diamantis was only a teenager when he had left in 1969 and commented
on how he had expected the streets to be much wider and the homes slightly
larger. Thanks to our childhood memories which are usually etched somewhat
glorified in our minds, things appear different or strange after a long
absence.
Our first vacation as a family to Greece paved
the way for yet another one during the Christmas holidays, in 1984. Maria was
already 4 years old but her little brother Alex was only a year and a half. As
I look back now, I admit that this trip was not well planned.
We expected it would be nice to join my
husband’s sister Athena and her family who’d already booked their holiday to
the island. What we hadn’t considered was the frugal heating still tolerated in
the homes during the winter months… and it can get quite chilly and damp on the
island. As a result, both our children caught colds….and suffered from
diarrhea. Maria was also disappointed by the absence of Santa Claus. We
explained that Christmas is celebrated differently in Greece and that Ayios
Vasilis takes his place spiritually on New Year’s Day instead. Her confused
little face brought back memories of my own first Christmas in Greece.
Even though this trip was less a success, it
made enough impact on my husband to revive dormant sentiments of returning to
his birthplace, one day. In June of 1986 and able to take a short break from
work, he and I planned a little escape, once again on Samos, this time without
the kids. We made the best use of each minute in the day, stretching 24 hours
to its limits and quite honestly can’t remember getting a full night’s rest. We
hired a motorbike and discovered places we hadn’t even seen yet. We enjoyed the
nightlife, the stars and sunrise. The weather was warm, perfect for camping out
which we did on the concrete roof top of auntie Katina’s house. Of course, we
hadn’t considered how nippy it could get with the morning dew, even in June. We
were so young and impulsive, nothing seemed to matter.
By now, Diamantis had purchased some land with
his brother-in-law Jim, near the port of Karlovasi, in Samos. During this
vacation, my husband continued his search for yet another property. His friend
Manolis, an engineer, proposed we take a look at some land on sale just beyond
the city limits. The old, tattered stone dwelling sat on a 1,5 acre parcel of
land overlooking the ravine with a breathtaking view of Mount Kerkis. Although
fascinated by the scenery, I admit I had no instant vision that this would
become our future home. I can’t say the same for my husband.
Believe it or not, in August of 1988, with my
husband’s successful business sold to his partner and most of our assets
liquidated, we merrily relocated to Samos to settle in our semi-renovated home.
It was the beginning of our new life and incredible adventure.
The initial plan was for my husband to start
up a retail shop of floor coverings, which was the same line of business he and
his partner operated in Ottawa. In the meantime, I had acquired a license to
teach English. But somewhere along the way, our plans were diverted. Diamantis
did not waste any time constructing our hotel on the property near the port
where in the summer of 1990 we welcomed our first guests.
Naïve and ambitious, enticed by what appeared
to be a lucrative business opportunity in the tourism field, according to the
N.1262/82 legislation, like hundreds of other entrepreneurs eager to support
local economic growth, we were sucked into a bureaucratic labyrinth of a
dysfunctional public system, runaway interest rates and soaring inflation. My
husband and I often felt disoriented and overwhelmed. Fortunately, our children
were resilient enough to adapt comfortably to their new surroundings..
Of course, there is hardly enough space in
this article to go into any kind of detail regarding our mixed experiences but
a simple recap can be summarized by the word… challenging. For the last two
decades, Greece has been a learning experience which has taught us to make the
best out of any given situation.
A word of caution for those planning to uproot…beware
of those strong sentiments and lingering fascinations of unforgettable
vacations should they bear heavily on the final verdict, unless you are blessed
with nerves of steel and a sizeable bank account. First, you need to ask
yourself what you are willing to give up because when routine sets in, you
will, without doubt, find yourself contemplating about it. It is a drastic
transition coming from a North American diasporic community…trust me…
regardless of how patriotic you think you’ve been raised to become or how many
summers you’ve spent with yiayia in the village.
Naturally, the local lifestyle can be
fulfilling if you are patient, receptive and fully prepared to tackle problems
in stride, one day at a time. In spite of the hurdles, the mystical beauty of
the island, the climate, our history and composed disposition of the island
people are qualities which keep our family rooted in our ancestral soil leaving
our hearts split between our two countries.
Excerpt of: A Place to Write - World of Greece Odyssey Magazine - September/October 2011 issue
Excerpt of: A Place to Write - World of Greece Odyssey Magazine - September/October 2011 issue
The making of our workshop transpired on two
continents. Penny, my friend and literary agent from Canada suggested
the idea upon a visit to our hotel. Through her, I came to meet Rosemary,
our dynamic instructor. Thus, our long-distance venture began.
We worked hard from both sides of
the Atlantic to make our dream come true: a writers' workshop on a
Greek island in the Aegean, on
the island of Pythagoras, Samos. For years, my
husband Diamantis and I envisioned adding a creative touch to our hospitality
business.
I set out to meet Rosemary and each of my
future classmates, at the Aristarchos airport, near Pythagorio. I observed the
arrivals, hoping to spot my guests who emerged out of the crowd with books and
smiles.
We traversed the winding roads back to
Karlovasi in conversation, stopping occasionally to take photographs. I yearned
to show these guests my Greece, the nirvana of endless
mystery, its historical menagerie of tears & laughter, a fusion of hot
& cold. A country where a symphony of swallows chirp in unison on tiled
roof-tops, where stray cats screech in narrow alleys, where the sunset
dissolves into the horizon, where tranquility is drowned by impassioned
conversations. In Greece the intoxicating fragrance of the jasmine,
the rhythmic chimes of church bells, the lulling staccato of the cicadas and
the quiet trickle of a running brook, entertain us.
Hellas, my Greece, is a
melting pot of ideas, beliefs, ambitions & disasters, lined with an array
of bursting colours & emotions. It is a subtle transition from an
Aristophanes comedy to a Sophocles tragedy, a grand synthesis of history
& knowledge. How can the stranger possibly know that beneath this beautiful
disguise, lie the open wounds of a crippled matriarch who stands invincible,
while her children suffer.
This kaleidoscope of emotions is the country
of my ancestors. I look at my fellow writers and want to share it all.
In exchange, our tireless mentor Rosemary and
my wonderful company of fellow classmates nourish my mind, my memory. They
return me to my childhood, to my adolescence and remind me of forgotten
phrases. They tell me of the changes and experiences I’ve left behind.
Their presence renews the reality that I am
bicultural, somewhere in the middle, neither here nor there, yet both places at
once, for I was born to immigrant parents, far in the diaspora, and although
raised faithfully by Hellenic doctrine, Canada is my place of birth
and where I spent the first three decades of my life. I miss it.
Philia, the only non-Canadian among us lives
in Wisconsin but she was born in Athens which makes her a
genuine Greek, a free spirit, like my husband. Together, they are wind &
fire and breathe life into my commentaries, energizing the already magical
ambiance.
My stories are all inspired by Hellenism and
aimed at preserving moments that fade with time. Perhaps my new friends will
now understand why.
Jackie, Roxy, Kat, Heather, Kevin, Ellie,
Philia, and Rosemary. Efharisto, Demetra Angelis Foustanellas.
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