13/09/2019
A NEW LAND OUTSIDE MY WINDOW
Artwork text: His reply had filled me with happiness about being Greek, or more precisely at being back in the Greek language. I kept repeating to myself: "When the sea turns to yogurt, that's when the poor man finds he has no spoon." I smiled happily to myself, as if remembering something agreeable. Then it struck me that that was exactly right. From being central to my life, the Greek language had become just a memory. I no longer had any real empathy with my language. I recognised that. But after a 36-year absence, I was beginning to discover it anew. That was a blessing. My lips moved effortlessly, my voice sank deeper within my chest, like a diver hunting for hidden treasure. I don't know what else I can say to describe the feeling I experienced. But let me try once more. It was as if I were falling. The fall seemed long and inevitable, when suddenly it was being slowed down by a self-opening parachute. I would never lose my way as long as the homely hearth of my language was still glowing, even if at a distance. I would die with my dignity intact. No one can be more safe and secure than one who possesses a language.
This partnership was triggered by the difficulty our schools and adult education centres face regarding the inclusion of newly arrived refugees. Some of our non-migrant students have difficulty accepting refugees in our classes and radicalization of both local youth and adults is taking place.
