Category: Uncategorized

Privilege–Crisis and Migration

August 17, 2018

One invaluable lesson the financial crisis in Greece taught me, is that one can’t take anything for granted.

There are few incredibly wealthy Greeks who remain untouched by the financial crisis. I am not going to talk about them in this blog post.

Countless young Greek professionals like myself, have had to leave their lives, their homes and their families behind for a another and very uncertain life elsewhere. I uprooted my life, (again) and migrated to another country, not only for a better life but essentially to survive. If all goes well and I’m able to build a life here in the U.S, or anywhere else; I hope to move beyond surviving, and to ultimately thrive and succeed.

Going back to Greece to live and work; is not a viable option for us who left. 

At least not yet.

I am far luckier than most.

With all the strides, that I have made living in New York the past five years; it has not been without its challenges. I attribute the general malaise of my fellow country men and women, not only to nostalgia or missing our homeland, but to the crude realization of having to prove ourselves somewhere else AGAIN, after having fought very hard to establish a life in a far less conducive and accepting environment.

I built a successful career in my field, and was afforded a relatively stable family and personal life, but most importantly Greece was my home. I LOVED living there. I had in general terms a good life. Despite all its craziness and complete chaos; I love Greece. Yet….most young people, (myself included when I first moved back after my studies), are endlessly discouraged by Greece’s pure lack of any provable organization, shitty public services, corrupt governance, disorganized and badly outdated infrastructure, nepotism, greed … rampant sexism, and most recently a newly emboldened racism and nationalism; the list is endless.

We all have complained, and continue to do so about how badly everything runs, how our corrupt politicians are stifling growth, entrepreneurship,  and innovation. Many of the people who left, wanted to make it work in Greece. We wanted to bring our knowledge back to our homeland. I like many of my contemporaries, have had the privilege of being educated in good schools, have had contact with some amazing minds in all the fields I have worked at;  (the Arts, Dance, Wellness and beyond), and have had the good fortune to be able to choose where I would like to live, but above all…. I had the ultimate “golden ticket”; an American Passport.

My privilege is not lost on me.

It has afforded much needed headway when coming to the United States to work and live after living in Greece for most of my adult life. Yet…. I am still seen as a bloody foreigner. Despite my many difficulties proving myself again as a yoga teacher, arts administrator and overall capable professional; this little title “American Citizen” protects me from far worse treatment and marginalization that many of my compatriots feel having never lived in the U.S, or any other foreign country for that matter.

When observing the difficulty my friends face when coming to the U.S for the first time, I feel immensely grateful to be able to navigate through “the system” as well as having a better understanding of the intricacies of living, operating and decoding how “the little things” work in the U.S. This is an obscure list of unwritten rules; it’s handed to us upon arrival and, we all have to follow them.

A rude awakening, to a new life.

Whatever life I left behind in Greece; losing the comfort and ease I was used to, was quite daunting at first glance. What I learned upon arrival to the U.S is that nothing of what I knew or was used to is applicable here. If I am going to survive, I must play the local game and all but forget how things worked for me “back home”. I had to go through the same “schooling” when I moved back to Greece at 22, after my studies in the U.S. The American way of life does not apply to Greek chaos… so I was called to re-calibrate how I worked “the system”, in order to survive and ultimately thrive.

This I find is the biggest gift, no matter how hard of a transition it has been. I am now fortified with the tools to be able to negotiate a productive way of life both here and in Greece. The local rules and “how things are done” are no longer a mystery, because doing things by the book in New York is only the first step to a long education about making it here, or anywhere else.

And the story continues….

Achilles Heel-(Αχίλλειος Πτέρνα) – Greek Version

April 25, 2018

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Καθρέπτες αντανακλούν σκοτεινά πρόσωπα που χάθηκαν σε απομονωμένες γωνίες και πονεμένες καρδιές

Ξεσκεπάζουν μυστικά και άβολες ματιές και χαμένες ευκαιρίες

Χείλη σφιχτά και κλεμμένες… τρομαγμένες ματιές

Κουρασμένα βλέμματα χάνονται σε φωτεινές οθόνες, εκτρέπουν, αποφεύγουν, απορρίπτουν.

Παίζουν το ρόλο ξανά σε μια παράσταση που κανείς δεν θέλει να δει.

Και το μόνο που βγαίνει είναι μια άφωνη κραυγή.

***

Πως μετράς μιαν αγάπη που σκίστηκε στα δύο;

Δημιουργήσαμε μια ιστορία που κατασπαράζεται με τη πρώτη ευκαιρία

Είναι ξεκάθαρο ότι σκόνταψα σε μια φαντασία

Ξανά.

***

Δε δέχομαι άντρα σε τιμή ευκαιρίας.

Δεν ακροβατώ πια μεταξύ φθοράς και αφθαρσίας

Μπροστά στην μετριότητα δεν στέκει το τέλειο αλλά η ουσία.

Δεν δίνω πια σημασία σε αυτά.

Πόσο θα αντάλλαζες τη βόλεψη σου για μιαν αγάπη αληθινή;

Μάλλον δε θα μάθεις ποτέ.

Η απορία παραμένει στεγνή.

 

My mother’s hands

April 12, 2018

I love caring for my mother’s hands.

Those hands that lifted me when I was a child, the same hands that held mine when I was a young girl of 6 or 7, the same hands that held my fathers when he was recovering from surgery, the same hands that held me after my illnesses and rough times.

My mother’s hands are not dainty or “pretty” but they are strong and handsome. My mother’s hands have carried heavy loads and caressed my hair whenever I needed it. My mother’s hands are not delicate, they are warm and firm and loving.

She grabs my hand when I am unsafe and holds my hand when I need comfort. Every chance I get, I hold my mother’s hands. Her hands reassure me and lead me in the right direction.

I love caring for my mother’s hands, and secretly hope that mine will be just as accomplished and strong as hers.

I see my mother’s hands in my own, as I see her mother’s in hers. The cycle continues and connects us all.

 

 

Day 23-25. Wanderlust

March 26, 2018

Looking out the window at the world passing by…I’m sitting on a train traveling from Paris to London on a trip that I had been planning for three months for a birthday gift. This need for travel has been a part of my life since I was very young.

The first time I boarded a plane I was three months old, my mother took me from Greece to the United States for the first time in 1978 to meet my American grandmother.

Ever since that first plane ride traveling has been my greatest joy. Planning, mapping out the trip, gathering ideas of where to go and what to see is like a story that is waiting to be written. Each page filled with mystery and adventure. These two cities hold some of my fondest childhood memories; visiting them feels like coming home. The people I come to visit are some of my oldest friends; people who I have shared many stories, many years and many memories with.

Travel is not only a way to see the world but also a way to see ourselves in it. We are reminded that we are not just citizens of our country of origin but citizens of the world. Connecting with people in London and Paris this eve of my 40th birthday reminds me of how travel to places known and unknown has shaped my life in ways that no school and no book could ever do.

Travel is my drug and the skies my natural high.

What’s your next destination ?

Day 13. Friendship

March 14, 2018

Post 13 of 27– Friendship

Today I’m in a sour mood because I hear the word friend and friendship being tossed around a lot lately, by people who either are not understanding the parameters of friendship or abuse its meaning. Much like the word love… when overused; it loses its weight, its potency, and its value.

Friendship is a heavy word for me. It encompasses loyalty, commitment, care, sacrifice, love, trust, honesty, and humility. All the ingredients that any real romantic relationship should have minus the sex !  True friends are hard to come by, they are there for you when shit hits the fan, not just to be your fan. They are there for you when you feel dis empowered; not only to show their power. They are there for you when your dreams are bigger then theirs, they don’t look down on your success as their failure. They care for you, even though you are vulnerable and unable to care for yourself. Friendship isn’t a fan club, its not an opportunity for personal advancement or self promotion, its not about dependency. If your friends are only there when they need flattery and sugar coating then they are fair weather friends. We have all seen those.

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Acquaintances I have many, but my friends are the trusted guardians of my heart and soul, even more than a lover or a romantic partner. Friends are my family, my rock. Those who’ve been around are there for lifetimes, and even though we may not see each other every day; we speak every day, on the phone or in a letter or in a picture. There is a deep bond that I share with the people I call my friends. Like soil they are cultivated over time. Like flowers they are cared for and appreciated in the good times and the bad. Like the custodians of my deepest secrets, fears and needs; they guide me when I need their counsel. They have proven their staying power and their worth, as I have done for them. Those friends who didn’t believe in me or cherish my friendship to them didn’t remain friends long.

There is a unwritten rule that defines all friendships and I’m fairly certain any fair weather friend would not stand for long against it. A quote by a motivational speaker I heard recently; is apropos to my rant about friendship today. Friendship is a most sacred bond, it’s a promise, it’s a pact, it’s a connection deeper than any of its kind.

So ask yourself:

“If friendship is the only thing you had to offer, who would still be your friend?” T. Shelton  

Day 8. To be a woman

March 9, 2018

“Women will save the world, but first they must start by saving themselves.” — DL

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Today is International Women’s Day — Women’s achievements, sacrifice, tenacity, willpower, beauty, and presence is celebrated around the world.

Yes but…. there is a but.

What is lacking in all this celebration of togetherness is the sheer lack of self care that most women give themselves. Over and over women are celebrated by being the healers, the nurturers the caretakers, as of late (only in American Culture) the fighters; the true heroines. More often than not these same women are time and time again put into positions to care for others more than they can care for themselves.

And yet…. there is a yet; women are still abused, by their husbands, boyfriends, fathers, lovers, relatives. Wives and girlfriends are battered in more households across Greece than I care to mention. I’ve heard it with my own to ears. I’ve heard it here, in New York right next to my own home. Because violence physical, verbal and mental; despite this rah rah mentality of celebrating women, still exists.

We, women; are strong, unrelenting in our abilities to do whatever we want to do. And still, yes there is a still; we have to deal with the abuse, the control and the pressure of society to be nice, pretty, agreeable, convincing with our bodies and not our minds and lastly and this is not easy for me to say, become blind of all that has happened and continues to happen to us and get on with it.

I celebrate women, I revere their strength their ability to get things done in the most difficult of circumstances but above all; I celebrate their ability to forgive; love unconditionally, and bring communities together when no one else can. My biggest heroes are not the famous faces; everyone knows them. My heroines are the women in my family; the women I call my sisters, and the women who despite illness, financial difficulty and incredible odds against them; still get shit done. These are the role models that young women need to look up to.

We are the healers, the negotiators the ones who raise families, our own and of others, we are strong, we are survivors, we get up when life throws us down, but we must never forget that in order to heal the world, we must begin with ourselves.

Celebrate women’s day every day.

Day 4 — Passports

March 5, 2018

Post 4 of 27.

What’s in a Passport?

What is a passport but a doorway for freedom, and a way to go wherever you can and want to go. It’s an opportunity and a way to see the world. It’s a chance to broaden your horizons.

I’ve been blessed to be born in one country but given two passports, two nationalities, two identities, two ways of life, often conflicting and opposing each other. I am a Greek with an American mind. An American with a Greek soul. I was always asked which one I preferred the most ever since I was a little girl.

I have a sense of belonging, identity and a way to see the world that very few have. It’s also difficult to defend both in my heart and mind. Passports have given me the opportunity, the gift and the privilege to see the world, to travel and to be influenced by many different cultures. I have lived in many places and continue to want to explore more of the world. I belong to no country and I hold all identities as my own. I’ve adapted to different cultures and had the immense luck to call many places my home.

Home is where the heart is they say; and I’ve had many homes in my heart, but as Odysseus completed his journey to Ithaca, no matter how long he was away and how many lands he saw; his home was where his longing was fulfilled. He spent years apart from his homeland only eager with renewed passion to return.

My home is everywhere and no where. And one day I will return to the home in my heart.

What does a passport mean to you?