-. Born in the Usa

The family was still at the apartment on Agiou Polykarpou Street in the area of New Smyrni in Athens. This had been the family's first home since my parents had exchanged vows to be a married couple. It was a two bedroom apartment with a big kitchen area, a very large living room divided in two differenet spaces and one bathroom. Mother and father had the bigger bedroom while I was sharing the smaller one with my Yiayia (Grandmother in Greek). She was my mothers' mother.

It is a Friday night around 9pm. We are still waiting Mother to come home from work. Yiayia is in the back of the apartment in our room taking a nap. She is definitely snoaring at this moment. It only takes her 10 minutes of quite sleep and then she starts snoring with a deep loud snor that keeps me awake and all I can do, is start clapping loudly with the hope that she will get scared, wake up and stop snoaring. But usually, it is not effective. I only achieve to listen to my clapping as it is echoing in the room which keeps me even more awake and in the end I need to start counting the 100 Greek sheeps to put myself into sleep. Thankfully, it is not yet time for me to go to bed. Mother had promised to bring us souvlakia home from Thanassis in Monastiraki so we will stay up with father and wait for her while doing our favorite thing; watching American music videos. As father puts a tape in the VCR to play, I start having my first encounter with the then representation of the ultimate American Rocker; Bruce Springsteen. Blue Jeans stretched allowing me to visualize the singer’s sex, white shirt placed loosely inside the jeans, short sleeves turned towards the elbows and a cool slow movement of the hips as the singer dances.

“Look Maria, Look what he will do now” Dad said while Bruce was stretching his right arm to reach Courtney Cox who is one of his fans on the video and brings her on the stage with him to dance.

“And wait until you listen to the next song” he added

The lyrics started like this:

Born down in a dead man’s town

Born in the Usa I was

“BORN IN THE USA” father screams loudly in the living room

“BORN IN THE USA” I yell back at him

In America, the Born in the USA song expressed signs of hope in the daily fight of the standard American in following the American dream and not only. It had many more meanings.

In our Greek apartment, the Born in the USA song expressed signs of hope and love. Signs of a strong connection betwen a standard Greek father and his daughter. For few years, it became our home's anthem!

Right after that Rockin night at home, I remember father giving me one of my most memorable gifts, that is after the world globe, which I kept next to me by my bed for about a whole year. It was my first tape ever and most loved one since it had Bruce’s adorably shaped butt on the cover and the American flag as a backdrop. I used to take that tape everywhere with me. I hid it in the school bag and go proudly to listen to my school teachers preaching about Math, History and literature while I had my mind set at that moment that we were at the living room with Father singing as the band of Springsteen.

I often wonder now days if father ever thought that all I wanted to truly do when I left home to come to America, was to hear him saying in the land of USA the below lyrics from the Born in the Usa song:

I am a true Rockin daddy in the USA now

Because that is who he is becoming. It is not difficult to imagine the union with my father on the studio apartment on 6^th street once I will be an American citizen and father will be a true Rockin daddy in the USA. His smoky eyes and woolflike lined up teeth smiling of admiration for the woman I have chosen to become while glancing at the art-covered walls, the racks of books and the Finding Eidothea book cover mockup hanging as a big poster on the bathroom.

I give him to wear the leather used motorcycle jacket that I bought for him from a St. Marks vintage store. I am already wearing mine. The You Tube video of the Born in the Usa song is on. We are singing together again while mother cooks for us in my small east village gas stove the traditional Garozi family breakfast; two sunny side up eggs, sausage (the famous parizaki in greek) and small pieces of kasseri cheese.

- the real characters # A

Hose del Siap whose true name is Elina, didn't need to pack a lot in order to have the best and most memorable vacation. The first time we agreed with Irene to randomly go for free camping to the island of Elafonisos, Irene had packed her car with everything one could imagine. You could barely see the back window of the car and the left window on the back seat had to remain open because the special three dimensional camping tent that her father had bought some years ago in Spain didn’t fit inside the car and half of it was hanging out of the window. When I tried to put my staff on the back seat, I encountered a mini chaos. An inflatable mattress lying on top of a huge refrigerator which was full with food and drinks and then next to it that was an enormous bag with clothes and creams and a second bag filled with medicine. Well, the medicine I could understand. Irene has always been the hypochondriac type of person. Just a tiny little bite from a mosquito and she would rush to Elina screaming " Koritsiaaaa (word for Girls in Greek) I am dying from an unknown decease. I can feel it in my blood growing. Look at this huge bite. Oh My God I will die young!” and needless to say how many nights she spent at the emergency room. Obviously the exit diagnosis from the doctors always read: Entry due to unknown factor/ patient Irene K. But all those clothes and food didn’t make sense just for the weekend.

When we stopped with the car to pick up Elina we were both speechless. All her luggage was a 24 pack of toilet paper. Nothing else accompanying that toilet paper. Just toilet paper. The one with extra strength.

“Is that all you are bringing with you?” I asked

“Well I am sure Irene has thought of all the strictly necessary things, which translates to her entire house including the latest antibacterial ointment in case the rare bug species that only grow in Elafonisos bite her in the middle of her sleep at the tent, so I thought to be just practical and bring something I really find a necessity since the bushes of the island will have to be our restroom for two days"

“Great thinking” Irene said. "Indeed, we will need lots of it, not only because we are going for free camping but also in case we need to cover our wounds from the rare bug species” We all smiled and headed to our first adventure at the island.

I can still hear the horn of Irene's Jeep car signaling to Elina to come downstairs. I try to fit my staff on the back seat. The radio is playing the song of the band Manu Chao that Irene loves. I notice the turquise tshirt that Elina is wearing. Approaching at the car she screams to me" Garozi are you ready for our first adventure together?" But when I look out of the window, the New York streets are empty. My Indian friend is passing by only. Seeing me at the window, he screams to me: "Koukla (word for Doll in Greek), when are you taking me for vacation to Greece?". "Soon my friend, soon" I reply and I close the window as I am shutting down my memory's past.

How do you feel about those two characters after reading this small story? Would you like to read more about them and our adventures?

- Kotsifas' Navagios Cousin

Lithography by Vaso Katraki

Every year when the flowers would blossom end of May and I would finish school, the family cars (a blue and a silver Opel Kaddet) were packed and ready to take us all to Gialtra for our summer vacation. The main characters spending the whole summer at the house in Gialtra were:

Aunt Nitsa (Religious housewife married to Uncle Andrew; an old boat mechanical)
Giagia Bouboulina (The Grandmother)
Varka (Little speed boat named Nitsa after my aunt's name that was slow like aunt)
Kotsifas (My cousin)
Tsitsos (The cat)
Flatroudes (Deadly spiders. A strange species found only at Gialtra)
BMX Blue Bicycle (Kotsifas' old bicycle that became mine when he bought a fancy yellow one that I wasn't allowed to touch)
Navagio (Ship wreckage from the war with the Germans in front of the house very close to the shore. The top part of the wreckage was visible and looked haunted)

The days at the house were unbearable boring. Who would have imagined that me; a born rebel who used to drink water from the toilet would end up enclosed in a house with three old people. And old was fine, but old and crazy was too much. A typical afternoon entertainment meant being seated at the front terrace eating watermelon listening to Giagia saying stories about the dead people after the earthquake in the island of Zante where she grew up and got married, uncle saying stories about the dead people at his journeys in the wild sea and aunt lighting up candles in the middle of the day saying stories about the Saints.

The moment I was really waiting for with anticipation, same way a little kid is waiting for Santa to arrive at the house during Christmas, was the day my cousin Kotsifas would finish his classes at the college and would come stay with us for 1-2 months.He was my only hope since with him Aunt would let me go everywhere and most importantly to Limanaki beach where all my friends used to hang out outside of the famous Greek Lithography artist Vaso Katrakis' beach home.

Everyone loved Kotsifas at Limanaki, Peppy, Swtos, Mariana, Vagelis, Zelina,Theodora to name few. And because he wasnt the only one with that name; his friends used to call him Kotsifas o Navagios (Kotsifas The Ship Wreckage). And consequently, my name was Kotsifas' Navagios cousin.

That was till that day of the big jump.
The big jump was an incredible moment of my childhood life in Gialtra.

In front of Mrs. Katrakis' house there was a very old deck made of heavy, unevenly cut and rough stones.The very end of the deck was destroyed and a huge piece had fallen in the water diagonally making it very dangerous for everyone who would dare to jump in the water from the deck.

It was a quite, sunny Friday afternoon, and everyone was lying at the beach when Mrs. Katrakis' grandaughter;Annoula who was my best friend started urging me to finally make the attempt to jump from the deck.

Annoula: Why are you afraid to jump? Everybody had tried and nothing has happened so why are you afraid so much?
Me (thinking that probably Annoula is right replied): I will Jump!

Knowing that noone had hurt in the past, and that V. for whom I had a crash on, would see me jumping as a confident girl, I found myself at the edge of the deck crying out for help from all the saints that Aunt had mentioned throughout her stories.And I jumped.And I hit on the stone and never came out of the sea till V. rushed to save me and get me to the shore. I was probably shocked cause the only thing I remembered after the accident was that kiss V. gave me trying to do cpr on me; a great sparkling kiss that made my pain go away. When I opened my eyes still warm from that sweet kiss, to my suprise I saw the doctor of the village who kept telling everybody Get away from the girl.She needs space.

WHAT? I wanted to scream out loud. Who had invited that old guy with the beard to ruin my most precious moment with my V. ; my big love and future husband?The doctor started examining me, he wrapped my right leg that was bleeding and gave me a strong cream for the wounds in my back.
What is your name, he asked? Maria, I replied.

And since that evening, I finally got my true identity and everyone started calling me after my real name. I was no more Kotsifas’ Navagios cousin, but Maria; the first girl allover Gialtra who jumped from the deck and hit herself on the stone. But what a first summer Kiss!

- THROUGH THE EYES OF THE FRAMED DESTINY

Through the eyes of the framed destiny the memory of that morning in the island
allows the gates of the story to open again -

The bedroom was white with wooden furniture. Not the typical Grecian room of the islands. More like a playroom somewhere in Africa. Beige shoes made of cotton and suede rhythmically placed one next to the other in front of the couch. The view from the desk was overlooking the cliffs and the open rough sea of God Poseidon.


-Garia August
Mykonos Island
June 21, 2004

-THE LAST MORNING WITH PETER PAN. THE DECISION

She woke up earlier than him.
He was still sleeping under the mosquito net.
Walked outside at the porch and looked from the window the sea.
There were three windsurfers windsurfing at a great speed.
The sea was wavy. Poseidon’s Sea.

Windsurfers (Water Warriors) – Girl (Naked) – Peter Pan (Sleeping)
The girl turned the head towards the room and looked at the man.
She looked carefully.
His body was old, wounded all over.
That morning all the wounds were open.
She could see well that this man will use her love and warmth
to close the wounds and then sell it in some street market in Africa. Same exact way another man before him had used her love and sold it to a Gypsy one night of the red moon. No more time to be wasted.

She looked again at the windsurfers and felt their power, their strength,their determination to fight hard in the battle with the waves, but also their patience till
they reach the peak of the ride and turn (botza) to return back to the shore winners, fulfilled of the journey at the open sea.
They are ALIVE. STRONG. THEY ARE PATIENTLY DRIVEN.
That was the moment she knew that the Gods had finally spoken her destiny.
That was the moment she decided that she is leaving Greece.
She is leaving the ISLANDS.
She will find a new island.

The Muse approached and whispered,
you either do it now or you shall never be allowed again to escape.

The nymph shouted from the shore,
you have to go after your most sacred dreams and find a life path like those sea warriors. If you don’t do it now you will never get the courage again.

LEAVE NOW. THE GODS ARE WITH YOU.

And then, sea horses made of wavy sea foam appeared and covered her naked body with water crystals. Aspida zwis.

The sea horse the oldest of the eleven announced:
GO MARIA. RUN. RUN FAR AWAY. DO NOT FEAR.
RUN LIKE A SEA WARRIOR.
FIND YOUR BOAT.
START THE JOURNEY ;
THE JOURNEY THAT THEY ALL THOUGHT HAS ENDED UPON ODYSSEUS RETURN TO ITHACA IS NOW IN YOUR HANDS

BUT YOU SHALL NOT RETURN FOR YOU WILL NEVER FIND THE FINAL PORT.
THE SEA WILL ALWAYS GUIDE YOU TO NEW STORIES.
BOARD THE JOURNEY NOW -

- Maria Garozi

KARAGKIOZIS

August 14 2004

E.P. is waiting for her at the airport with a balloon
Welcome Garozi! Welcome to America! she screamed
You made it! Lets go Dance Now Malaka-

Welcome to America Garia
Back home they are all
celebrating together singing Karagkiozis
for the opening of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens
You, start your own celebrations now
cause you finally ESCAPED from Greece my young Karagkiozi!

And they danced that night at Beauty Bar on 14th Street-
She didnt know though that E.P. would return to Greece a month later leaving her completely alone to find a way of surviving in America-

The voice of Savopoulos singing the song Karagkiozis was whispering in the head that Sunday afternoon when E.P. left for JFK and Garia at the house back then on 18th street looked at her backpack wondering; Where to now?

"WIND BLOW
What kills me, What saves me
is that i dream like Karagkiozi
..................................................
put under your shadow this kid
that has nowhere to go tonight -"
(translated words from Karagkiozis song)

As she was pale and scared for what the next morning would bring
the men from Pontos appeared as a shadow on 1st Avenue
and started dancing armed the Pirixio Dance same way they performed it at the Athens Olympics. They screamed PAME, (GO).

GO, RUN TO SURVIVE.
The immigrant's blood inside her veins started dancing-


What is to all of you the memory of Karagkiozis and the everlasting creativity of Evgenios Spatharis? Have you ever dreamt like Karagkiozis?

2009 Diary Notes

August 14, 2009

The ticket will not be used. Simply a visit to JFK to capture with the lense that exchange of emotions when travelers are arriving and departing.
To capture the warmth between those who wait for the flight arrival and those who arrive.How much she needs to imagine the moment of her return.

She cant go anywhere. She is a hostage of her soul; A captive of her destiny.

JFK
J.R. and C.T. are coming soon. Their flight will depart for Athens delayed few hours.
Waiting for them decide to seat at the food area to write.
Its easy to recognize the Greeks around me. Mainly dramatic faces.
I notice the dramatic face of a mother talking to her two sons.
Is she going back or are they?
Who is leaving and who is staying back?
There is a pain for both figures. Those who leave and those who stay behind.
They both struggle. But it’s a different kind of struggle.
Trying to read her lips. must be saying:
Pote tha se dw gie mou? (When will I see you again son?)
So she is the one staying behind.

How difficult it must be when the child leaves for the first time away from home.
I imagine the parents need to find again a reason to live. Probably they want to scream at the airport DON’T GO.DONT LEAVE ME. How selfish that would be though.
Was that why mother never came all the way to say goodbye to me at the airport on August 14 2004?

- DONT LET THEM DESTROY HER PAST

Very warm summer night.
Gasping for contact. Speaking to herself noone replies.
So starts writing, like a traveler who is lost for the first time alone away from home.

Home is Hellas known to many as Greece.
The Greece that belongs to Mrs Maria Callas, to Melina Mercuri, to Nico Kazantzaki, to Miki Theodoraki , to Yanni Tsarouchi.

The Greece that belongs to that young boy who screamed loudly at the demolition of one of the oldest newsstand kiosks in Panepistimiou Street in Athens, IT FeeeeEEEL

The Greece that belongs to Christo, to Evdoksia, to Yiorgo, to Rena, to Nikolao, to Filomeni,to you who know how it is to be away from home and them who wait for your return one day.

THE GREECE OF THE TSOLIA WHO IS WAITING OUT OF THE PARLIAMENT AT SYNTAGMA NO RAIN NO SHINE FOR ALL OF US TO GO BACK ONE DAY.

THE GREECE OF THE WOMEN IN THE ISLANDS WHO LIGHT UP A KANTILI AT NIGHT WAITING FOR THE RETURN OF THE MEN FROM THE SEA.

Memories. So many memories. The past of her mind is reality now.
She cant pretend anymore that it doesn’t exist.

The memory of Greece is of a country where gardenias and jasmine flowers smell in every street. Where in every corner there is a Delta store. Where the young boys are playing soccer on the streets.

The memory of Greece is of a country where the mothers are taking every Sunday their children to Church and wait for their husbands to come home to cook for them.

The memory of Greece is a country where the anarchists are anarchists for an ideal and true rebels creating the ground for a better tomorrow. Not anarchists destroying what is left of our past. Of our identity. Of our names. Of our hearts.
In the news all she read last winter was for the anarchist attacks in Athens.
Her American colleagues asked her at the office, don’t Greeks like their country?
FEAR allover the face.
They will destroy everything before she manages to go back.