the little aussie girl returns
I first visited as a wide-eyed nine-year-old and returned as an enlightened forty-three- year-old. In my eyes nothing had changed – even though it had.
One of the first things I was eager to do when I arrived in Greece was to immediately head up to the idyllic mountainous Palaios Panteleimonas, mum’s birthplace and visit her childhood home. I wondered if it was still liveable or even so, if it still stood. After all, it had been thirty four years since I had last walked through the stone house.
It was the 23rd July 2010, late on a hot summer’s night, when I arrived in Neos_Panteleimonas. My uncle Dimitri (mum’s older brother) and aunty Eleni along with some of my cousin’s were waiting to greet me. The second the car I was passenger in, came to a holt I flung open the door and ran straight to my uncle’s open arms. It was such an emotional re-union.
I felt the connection instantly. We cried happy tears and as the evening continued we made our way up to the platia, where the rest of my ‘Greek family’ were waiting and keen to meet the little Aussie girl they once knew. Even though Australia was my birthplace, I felt the strong link to the place and to my relatives here in Greece.
Having left winter behind in Adelaide I had not adjusted to the heat as yet. I woke the next morning and poked my head out the small window of the bedroom of my auntie’s (mum’s older sister) home, where I was staying.
The sky was like sapphire, the bright sun blazing. Along with the scent of the flowers in the garden it left me in a meditative state. I knew I was going to love living here for the next four weeks.
I walked out into the tiny kitchen and was greeted by my dear aunty Tsivoula with a big hug and kiss. I felt safe and comfortable in my aunty’s embrace – just like a little girl again. And I cherised it.
“Kalimera koritsi mou, pos kimithikes?” (Good morning my love, how did you sleep?)
“Poli kala, efharisto thia mou.” (Very well thankyou, aunty).
Placed on the table covered by a beautiful traditional embroided tablecloth was a Greek gourmet breakfast. Fresh bread still warm from my uncle’s bakery, a small bowl of home grown olives, fresh boiled eggs and a pot of herbal tea. I could get use to this …
After breakfast my cousin Yioryia came past and picked me up and today we were visiting the old village – I was super excited! As we drove up the windy road I was hypnotised by the spectacular seascape of the Thermaikos Gulf – the historic Platamon Castle which overlooks the highway, also in view. And the closer we came to the slopes of Mount Olympus, surrounded by a magestic forest of oak and chestnut trees, the closer I came to going back in time.
Yioryia and I walked along the large cobblestone path, passing by many original stone-homes, chatting away. Feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought I was walking the same paths my mother walked as a child, I was absorbing the beauty of this tranquil village.
As we arrived at the house I was shocked to find the stone-wall dwelling looking lifeless and somber. I stood for a while lost in my thoughts, feeling quite emotional as memories of 1976 came flooding back.
There was no access from the front of the yard, so we made our way around the side. I attempted to walk inside though it was not safe as the floorboards were unstable. I did not want to risk a broken leg. I stood at the door and looked around inside. It had such a melancholy feel to it.
So as it was, this little Aussie girl returned to find her roots … and realised many things had changed.