Meet the Family,….first we have to find them
As decedents of Greece, I was always asked, ‘do you have family in Greece?’ The answer always went a little something like this: ‘No, unfortunately not. I was raised traditionally in the church with the passed down customs of generations.’ Furthermore, people were always surprised to hear my grandparents weren’t even born in Greece. Despite not learning the language, until my recent attempt, it says a lot about my family and what was important to them: Faith, Family, Friends and Food…. Also, the title to my college essay ;)
A few years ago, my mom’s cousins went to Greece and were determined to find family in Chios, and sure enough they did; and we were going to ride on their coattails to go find these relatives in the village, χωριό (pronounced chorió). I was so happy to at least now be able to say back to people when they asked, ‘do you have family in Greece?’, “Yes, distant relatives.” It made me feel even more connected to the motherland than I already did.
After an afternoon of adventures, we made our way up the mountain to Mirmingi, Μυρμήγκι (pronounced as it looks), the village my great-grandfather was from. We went with pictures my γιαγιά (pronouced giagiá) gave my mom and scribbled down notes. My mom’s cousin had also connected on Facebook with one of the relatives after her trip and sent a message to let them know that we would be coming at some point but wasn’t sure when. This is the definition of Greek time. The pictures below help tell the story. We pull up to what looks like an abandoned village with a church that looks like it hasn’t been used in decades and is in a state of disrepair. This is making us all sad, but as we continue on, we see Pano, Athena and Zoe. Here goes nothing, as they just blankly stare at us Americans. In Greek, we try asking them if they know our relatives. We are getting nowhere quick before Pano finally gets up and walks us down a little bit further to a grandmother, γιαγιά (pronouced giagiá). Anna and daughter Maria who had two young kids to ask them if they could help us. The following three pictures ensue. We spend almost 20 minutes trying to see if this family knew who our family is and where we can find them. Maria at least speaks broken English and tells her mom to call who it might be. We have created a spectacle and Pano is invested in this. We even had a French couple stop by. They came to see to see the village that the bride of a wedding they attended had lived and were looking for her relatives. I can confidently say this was the most action Mirmingi had seen in years, especially given the pandemic. After Anna gets off the phone, we have solved the mystery and Pano is our tour guide through the rest of the village to the relatives’ home. He didn’t skip a drag of that cigarette either. We made it. We made it to the family home. They opened their door; they opened their arms for hugs and double-cheek kisses; they opened their hearts and home. We might be distantly related, but we are otherwise perfect strangers. Pano and crew didn’t have to help us but they did – everyone we encountered in Mirmingi including our family obviously, treated us complete strangers as if we were their family. The quote that I referenced in the Background of this blog can be distilled down the Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated……and in the Greek case, the Golden Rule is amended to be something like: Treat others as if they are your own: Love them and cook for them.
The family insisted we sat down. They insisted they fed us. And most importantly we told them who we were, why we were here and how the family has grown over the years. See pictures below of our interactions. This was the longest 45 minutes, as my mom and I worked tirelessly to finish each other’s sentences with the words the other one was grasping for. As exhausting as this was, it was also so rewarding. This visit filled us all up so much. It was a feeling I had never felt before. This was my true roots. I touched a piece of my personal history and ancestry that I will never meet but I feel it engulfing me. I cannot begin to articulate what this feels like. It’s almost like a 6th sense of belonging. I had felt it before on previous visits to Greece but when you are in your motherland, with relatives it hits different, as the kids say. This is an existential belonging.
The chronicles of finding and meeting the family in the village.
