My great-grandparents and grandmother (YiaYia in Greek) Stavroula arrived at Liberty Island in 1913 from Kalamata, Greece (Aris to be exact) where she, her parents, their parents and yes even their parents all resided.
Married to a full blooded Mexican (my wonderful grandfather) it was the Mexican side of our heritage that seemed to dominate our family by way of music, language, history and so forth. Secretly I always dreamed of going to Greece one day, but it was the impact of my mother’s sudden passing, combined with the death of a close friend which pushed me into action to finally visit Greece and meet my cousins there.
So, May 1996 off I went, alone, expecting nothing but Olives, Ozo and a nice introduction to distant relatives whom I had never met nor really knew anything about. The only research I had done at the time was hotel arrangements in the Plaka area of Athens because in 1996 Greek tourism wasn’’t saturated the way it is now. I am Greek, family was there and that’s all I cared about. I’’ve traveled alone aboard since a teenager so this was just another 2 week adventure.
Or so I thought at the time.
When the flight landed on the Athens runway (pre-Olympic airport remodel) I stood at the top of stairs leading down to the bus on the tarmac which was to take us to the terminal and gazed out onto the horizon.
I froze.
300 passengers behind me anxiously waiting to de-board – I could not move.
A passenger (Rick) whom I was sitting next to for 10 hrs. from New York kindly asked if I was alright.
I replied with a glazed look, “I’ am home”!
He said, “But I thought you said you’ve never been to Greece before”?
“That’s right,” I said, “I have never been here before but I’m overwhelmed with the sense that this is HOME and I have not made exit off the plane…?!!”
Rick frequently traveled to Greece on business so he escorted me off the plane, through customs and he kindly stayed with me right through airport exit because all I could say was Yia sas… I’m home, I’m home, I’m home like some deranged crazy American woman under the curious stares of the customs agents. Exiting baggage claim, we were met with a frenzied dis-organized large crowd of anxious people waiting to meet up with passenger arrivals.
I laughed to myself thinking there is no way I’m going to find the 2 cousins I’m supposed to meet up with (an arrangement made by YiaYia and her 1st cousin Periklis). We had not exchanged photographs or descriptions nor did we have mobile phones, so I thought, “This may be a challenge,” to say the least.
All we knew about each other were names and approximate ages, nothing else.
They were expecting an American woman traveling alone and that’s all. Only I didn’t appear to be alone because I was making the exit with Rick by my side. I glazed over everyone in the crowd until my eyes locked onto 2 individuals who were apprehensively staring at me as well, but said nothing. Feeling an instant connection which surpassed logic, I boldly spoke up first introducing myself with excited courage and said, “…”Nikos? Katerina?” They replied confirming that was their names (which I realized later was kind of dangerous because everyone there seems to be named Nik) Warm greetings were exchanged, Rick said his good-byes and from that moment on… and 40 more Greek family members later (and still counting), a brand new family connection transformed my life in so many ways that 15 years later I still marvel at it. Their laughter, love, giving hearts, and sense of joy for life continues to make my heart sing.
I only spent one night in the hotel because next morning I found Nikos curb side ready to bring me to their home in Agia Paraskevi, a beautiful suburb of Athens. Nikos threw me and my bag on the back of his motorcycle. As he weaved in and out of traffic (which is not for the weak of heart) I sat back completely relaxed in bliss soaking up the city, the sights and was at peace.
That two week trip changed my life; from the old woman in Rhodes who hauled me into her humble home to get out of the rain whose peace and joy were a blinding light , the cave of St. John on Patmos, instantly ducking at the top of Santorini’s cauldren because I thought I was going to bump my head on the sky, to the villages where no one spoke English, the 4 hour family dinners, seeing for the first time how happy people were by working for a living and not living to work, how Nikos (did not speak English) yet our surreal connection gave way to a better communication no language can ever do….. and every detail in-between that first experience to present day awakened a connection of Greek culture and traditions with a soul thirst I never knew I had. I’m only one quarter Greek by blood, but that one quarter out shines the other 75% with extreme passion, enthusiasm and love.
Each and every visit brings a new experience but it has become more about the synchronized connection with my family and who they are as people. They are a special joy.
