These thoughts are devoted to all these people who changed jobs, houses, countries for all kind of reasons. For them and their families. For people who proved themselves stronger than expected.
1 year. 365 days.
23rd of September 2015.
I took the early afternoon Aegean flight Athens-London. It was a one way ticket. I should have been stronger, because I had also moved to New York years ago, but every time you leave your homeland behind it seems equally complicated.
I was reflecting on how many stories all these airplanes carry within them.
How many parents had said goodbye to their children who had taken an Aegean flight?
How many in love people had caught a flight with the final destination being… their beloved one?
These airplanes that connect entire continents, that shrink the distances between us, that bring countries closer together, that bring all of us closer to each other.
It seemed I was destined to continue the life I was living since I was a kid. Changing countries and cities every few years. It seems to be karma, or destiny, like the DNA that you can’t get rid of it.
I remember the crowd and the noise at the airport. Some people were crying, some happy tourists were taking pictures, couples were parting ways, parents were saying goodbye to their children. Airports are beehives of emotions…
I handed my one piece of luggage weighing 23kg. I tried to fit everything into those 23kg. How to fit a whole life in 23 kg?
I was holding my handbag tightly and I had my passport in my hand. All the roads were open.
I was shedding a torrent of tears behind my black sunglasses.
An old lady sat next me.
I didn’t want to engage in small talk. I put my headphones on.
But older people have an invisible radar that detects people’s auras.
“Why you are sad, my girl?”
I didn’t have a chance to put a word in edgewise. What could I possibly have said?
She was talking about her grandchildren, her daughter that went to London and so many other things that mingled in my head, the same way that my thoughts got mingled together with the unstrung feelings in my heart.
When we landed, she hugged me… Beautiful Greek people.
She told me: “May Panagia (Holy Mary) be with you. Good luck”.
“Thank you. I will need both”, I replied and I hugged her back.
I’ve visited London many times before.
But when you move to a city, it feels like it’s your very first time.
Outside of Baker Street tube station.
My first room was just a few square meters in the flat of my brother and of my dear A., in what felt like a communal house, that was giving us the feeling of a school excursion.
I was lucky.
Next day I woke up with a certain stubbornness.
London tube map: Jubilee, Piccadilly, Victoria, Northern, Central and Bakerloo line became my daily routine, together with the numerous kilometres of walking.
I didn’t even have a British cell phone number. I didn’t have data on my Greek cell which ruled out using Google maps so instead I started out with a simple map to get to know London. This London that ended up becoming my Londinaki (“sweet” London in Greek). This great metropolis with millions of people from all around the world, of all races; that came here to work, to study, in pursuit of a big love or a fresh new start. So many stories, encapsulated in only one city.
On the central thoroughfare of Oxford Street. Music, people, stores, a colourful puzzle.
I started walking in London, without having a destination.
I walked many kilometres. For many hours until the sun came down.
My beloved ones were all at work.
I started immediately searching for a job on these on-line job sites, and that’s how my big journey started.
The first priority was to find a job, to find a flat and then to move all my stuff from Greece.
And it all came together piece by piece. Things fall into place it seems for whoever is willing to fight long and hard enough.
Then I started creating the list of my favourite things.
This is the one small piece of advice that I give to anybody who has to change their homebase.
Find your favourite things. Your favourite coffee place. Your favourite bookstore. Your favourite gym. Your favourite market, boutique, bakery, bar and so on. Your corners in your new city, with your invaluable favourite things. But even more importantly, seek out and find the people that will claim a piece of your heart.
Tiny wonderful boutiques in Notting Hill.
Candy cakes store. Just like a fairytale.
Please do not be afraid, you will find the solution to everything. Your heart will drive and guide you as will your instincts.
Here you will also obtain a “new” family, with the strongest of bonds.
There is nothing more important. We are all here for each other.
We go from house to house, we help one another regardless of the situation, we are there when somebody gets sick, we go together to exhibitions, museums and shows, we support the efforts and the successes of every person, we help out in job searches, we share recipes, food, agonies and of course the priceless goodies from Greece such as Chatzifotiou sweets, Caprice and Terkenlis’ tsoureki.
If you are in the same position and you are leaving your country or changing city, do not be afraid.
Because you will become stronger.
You will become more tolerant.
You will be richer for your experiences.
More colourful.
You will become more human… And you will discover all your hidden powers and strengths.
There will be some very difficult moments, when you will be missing everything and everybody that you left behind. The sun. The sea. The food. The hugs. Even to read in your mother tongue, that feels so restful and familiar to your eyes. But you should NEVER forget that you are just a flight away.
Living a life full of changes, is never easy but it’s valuable. You are lucky, because you will get out of your comfort zone: you will live many lives rolled into one.
One of the most magical things about London is its spectacular parks. They are entire small Green states in the centre of the city.
Sunbeds in Regent’s Park for 1 pound. For those sunny days when Londoners try to “collect” as much sun as possible. The only thing missing is the sea.
And the months flew by.
And I did many trips to Greece back and forth.
My loved ones came to visit me.
And many packages were delivered to me, manna from heaven. Using her Greek maternal instincts, Mom found a truck that brings goods from Greece and she sends the most amazing parcels. With trahana, lentils, almonds from Amygdali, kroko Kozanis, mountain tea…. Even Clorin Klinex… Because nothing is like Klinex.
I don’t know how she does what she does, but the wonderful mommy delivers Greece to our doorstep, wherever that may be every time.
These packages are our happiness injections, and we open them up, with the same eagerness and excitement with which kids unwrap their Christmas gifts.
PS1. In my wallet, I always carry a folded piece of paper with an excerpt from Kazantzakis’ radio interview, a creased but precious manuscript.
“The further away one is from one’s country, the more one thinks of it and loves it. When I am in Greece I see the pettiness, the intrigues, the idiocies, the inadequacies of the leaders and the misery of the people. But from afar one cannot distinguish the ugliness so clearly, and one has more freedom to create an image of the country worthy of true love. That’s why I work better and love Greece more when I am abroad. Far away from her I am better able to grasp her essence and her mission in the world, and thus my own humble mission. Something special happens to Greeks who live abroad. They become better. They take pride in their race, they feel that being Greeks they have the responsibility to be worthy of their ancestors. Their conviction that they are descended from Plato and Pericles may perhaps be utopian, it may be an act of autosuggestion going back thousands of years. But once this autosuggestion becomes faith it exercises a fertile influence on the Modern Greek soul. It was thanks to this utopia that the Greeks survived. After so many centuries of invasion, slaughter and famine they should have disappeared. But the utopia, which has become faith, does not let them die. Greece still survives, I think it still survives through a succession of miracles.“- Nikos Kazantzakis
PS2. When I first came my friends warned me that the brandname of Greece is somehow “injured” or damaged. And they advised me to be strong, and to be prepared to deal with cynical jibes.
I didn’t have to. As soon as they ask me where I am from, I look them directly in the eyes I say with a steady voice “I am Greek”. And I always stress the “k” so as to leave little room for misunderstanding. To highlight the conviction and power that this dear “Greek” bestows upon me
And I carry my people from Greece inside me. All these viber, what’s app and skype apps became our daily routine. And there are days that I am lost in this dual reality, that it feels as if I am living in both countries simultaneously.
We are now almost 500.000 Greeks and Cypriot people living in London. You hear the Greek language everywhere and every time I hear somebody speaking Greek, I perk up and I smile. Because we are way too many.
And we are creating many great Greek microcosms around the world.
I am ever so grateful for this past year. I wouldn’t change any part of the journey so far.
Concerning my precious Greece, I hold it inside me, and I realised that you can’t restrict Greece to its geographical borders. Greece is in the melody of our language, the substance of our philosophy and our worldview, Greece is the blue and the white, our Aegean, our History, the taste of our foods, olive oil, with feta cheese and tomatoes in our bread, our values, our civilisation, our people, and all these things that there is no need to fit them into your 23kg luggage allowance, because you carry all of these with you, inside you, they have been instilled in your being.
I realised that the heart doesn’t work in a way that diminishes feelings. The heart only multiplies.
It has the ability as the years go by to love more people, more places, and to such an extent that in the end, it can call them all «home».
And it manages to transform a plain London into your Londinaki (“sweet” London in Greek).
In the end, everything is a chess game… (weather permitted)
