story – Lessons I learned after I turned 30

My blue denim jacket

Have you ever owned an inexpensive item of negligible monetary value that you absolutely love? And you recognise you love it purely because of its sentimental value?

I’m one of the least materialistic people I know. I’d rather spend the little income I make on experiences, travel, time with friends and family, not on things. So I never spend a huge amount of money on clothes or accessories.

I often though associate my modest belongings with precious memories or people and when I lose or break one of these precious to me pieces I grieve. I, of course, understand that it’s just ‘a thing’ and losing it shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because, for me, this ‘thing’ is a memory nugget, reminding me of a special friend, a loved one, an awesome day, a significant period of my life, and I’m terrified I’d forget whatever I associate it with, if I lose one of these memory nuggets.

I’ve lost or broken a few of these memory nuggets over the years, a set of earrings my sister got me, a memory card with photos from the UK and my most recent travels to Sicily, Rhodes and Belgium, a bracelet a dear friend got me, a pair of shoes I wore absolutely everywhere, and most recently, my blue denim jacket.

‘Come on, it’s just a jacket, get another one, the same even’ one might say. But it will never be the same.

I’ve got this jacket in June, 2019. I remember that because it was one of the last purchases I made before I left the UK. And as with the majority of my decisions, I browsed for hours, painstakingly looking for the perfect jacket. Why do I find it so excruciatingly difficult, even choosing a denim jacket? But, when I came across it on the Mango website, I knew that was THE one, at least what I had in mind.

I wore it the last time I’ve hugged goodbye my UK friends in Southampton in July.

I wore it a month later, during my CELTA course, one of the most challenging, painful but rewarding months of my entire life. I wore it during our lessons, I wore it when Jonny hugged me after I told him with tears in my eyes that my grandpa had died the day before and I wore it when I hugged my classmates goodbye.

I wore it on my way back to Cyprus after 11 weird and wonderful years in the UK and on my way to Italy a few months later.

I wore it during my first year teaching at Reggio, an experience I’ll never forget and on my way back to Cyprus after going through the first wave of the global pandemic outbreak in Italy, one of the worst-hit countries.

So today I grieve the loss of my blue denim jacket and with it the friends and places I miss.

Eleni

True love in the time of (modern) cholera

Do you believe in true love?

Do you believe there’s a person out there that can make you happi-er, (not happy, your happiness shouldn’t solely depend on someone else, but ha-ppi-er), do you believe there’s that special person who would love you for who you are, who would see you in your worst, darkest, most insane moments but would still choose to be with you? Do you believe there’s someone you can live with for years and years and still adore them?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’m a hopeless romantic and most of the time I’m a cynical b***h.

I was in a miserable relationship myself for the best part of 7 years and I’ve only dated a couple of times after that and none of them was a pleasant experience which put me off since, so my cynicism is justified.

But every now and then I come across an old couple who I can tell by just looking at them that they’ve been together for years and years and still love each other to the bones, thinking that maybe it is possible to experience that true love (hopeless romantic), but then wonder if it’s even feasible in the era of fast, disposable love, where people are too selfish and break up too easily or for the sake of not being along they stay together but are miserable (cynical b***h).

Last summer whilst visiting Oxford, I came across one of those couples. They were both dressed immaculately as they were to attend a wedding at the Trinity College chapel and I don’t remember their exact conversation but I remember they were incredibly sweet to each other and to us.

At some point the gentleman asked his lady to pose for a photo, I could see the love in their eyes, it was such a beautiful moment so I tried to take a picture of them to capture that but somehow they both turned and looked at me.

So here they are. True love, in the time of (modern) cholera.

Eleni

Grief never goes away

Thursday, the penultimate day of what felt like the longest January in the history of time.

I woke up in tears. I couldn’t stop thinking of the day my little sister called me to break the devastating news that my grandpa, pappou Costas had died and the day afterwards, the day of the funeral I did not attend, as I was stuck in Cambridge doing my CELTA course.

I remember it vividly, in details, colours and feelings, like it was yesterday. Little moments that I’d normally forget if it was any other day I can recall in excruciatingly painful detail, my little sister and mum messaging me first to say that ‘grandpa was ill’ (he had died but they didn’t know how to tell me), the dreaded phone call afterwards, wandering by the stairs on a quiet corner of the corridor, Shalala asking me if I was OK some time later when I could barely speak at our TP feedback session, crying my eyes out that evening whilst planning a lesson for the following day, the following morning Jonny asking me if I was OK and and his reaction when I burst into tears, sitting outside in the sunshine just before I were about to teach about Mongolian horse racing (the same time as the funeral was taking place in Cyprus) looking up in the sky wishing my grandpa farewell, then remembering that ‘teachers are really actors’ and thankfully making it through my lesson.

Naturally, I started thinking of uncle Spyro’s tragic death just two months later. Again I remember every single detail, visiting him at the hospital a week before he died, in excruciating pain not able to say more than a few words at a time but still in good spirits, getting ready to go see him again a week later but receiving the dreaded phone call to inform us that he had passed away, the eulogy I wrote and ended up reading because my sister couldn’t manage through the tears (not that I did much better), the funeral, the burial, the memorial service for both of them a week later.

I wrecked my brain desperately trying to figure out why. Why do I suddenly feel so overwhelmingly sad about it, 4 months later, 6 months later? Perhaps because I wasn’t there when it happened and I never got closure when grandpa died? But I was there when uncle Spyros died…

Am I still grieving?

Then I remembered something a couple whose daughter died of cancer and came to share their story at one of the Touch storytelling events said.

Jon and Chris described grief like a circle, the circle is everything about the loved one you lost. At the beginning, you are in the centre of the circle, you cannot see past the sadness and the chaos. As time goes by, you get out of the circle and it gets smaller, you can see beyond it, but it’s always there. You just learn how to live with it.

And they were right..

They were right. It’s always there and at any given time you are back in the middle of the circle again. It’s always there, like an old scar that sometimes bleeds and hurts as much as the first time. And this one isn’t even that old of a scar.

So, grief never really goes away.

I did not suppress it. I cried throughout the day (exhaustion did not help) and choked every time I tried to hum a farewell song written by one of my favourite Cypriot composers, Costas Kakoyiannis, beautiful lyrics by his partner Pambos Kouzalis, who had just lost his brother to cancer, sang by an incredible 14 year old, Georgia Neokleous, who had sadly lost her mum to cancer too. Life is cruel like that sometimes.

That’s grief. It never goes away, if from time to time the pain comes back and you should never suppress it. There is no specific amount of time that you need or have to ‘overcome grief’. You just learn to manage it, but some days it hurts like hell and that’s OK.

Today is one of those days. I miss grandpa’s laughter and silly little jokes, his smile when all his grandchildren were visiting, running around the house, uncle Spyro’s wit, advice and little remedies he always suggested, his endless kindness and patience. It hurts but it’s OK.

I was lucky enough to have them in my life and that’s worth all the pain of losing them.

This is for you. Mr Kakoyiannis song (I translated the lyrics as they were too beautiful not to share and the composer included them in the description of the video).

You left and I didn’t get even get the chance to bid farewell,

say my last goodbyes.

How could I live without you for so long?

I throw water on your path, so a plane tree can grow.

To protect you from all evil, always keep it away, keep you safe.

Eleni

Travel tales- When I met Helen, the Fairy Godmother

Saturday morning. A gorgeous, warm, sunny, summery day, one of those I almost forgot I live in this country.

9:50am and I’m on the train. The lack of sleep and a few drinks the night before have taken their toll and I am exhausted but so happy I’m about to spend the day with my best friend exploring Oxford.

The train is packed (glad I decided to reserve a seat). I’m trying and failing miserably to take a selfie so I just put my music on and enjoy the sun lightly burning my skin. I don’t mind. I’ll the take the sunshine any day.

Just after the Winchester stop, a sweet, elder lady gets on the train and sits next to me. White curly short hair, glasses, a floral dress and a huge smile. She seemed so kind and lovely, sometimes I can tell straight away, I got a strong urge to start a conversation, though I was painfully aware that it might backfire, people are not always that friendly at this neck of the woods.

I’m so happy I did. We ended up chatting until she got off the train. It felt so easy and natural, as if we’ve known each other for years. I straight away explained why I was tired, where I was going and why and ended up telling her about my plans and dreams and hopes for the immediate future and she told me about her life (she was heading to her mother in law to look after her for the day and relieve her husband), her travels in America back in the 80s and she reassured me without realising that I’m doing the right thing.

She told me: “Go, travel, see the world. I didn’t meet my husband until I was 36 and had my children in my late thirties. Enjoy life whilst you can.“

Just before she got off, I asked her what her name was.

‘Helen’ she said.

‘Eleni, which is Helen in Greek. So lovely to meet you.’ I replied.

‘Lovely to meet you too dear’, she replied. She wished me the very best for the future and I felt she meant every word. She wasn’t just being polite. She actually meant it.

How often does it happen to meet a stranger you connect straight away, who as a Deus Ex Machina (απο μηχανής Θεός), a fairy Godmother re-assured me I’m actually doing the right thing, leaving my job and taking a leap of faith?

After she left I couldn’t stop thinking how many amazing, incredible humans, everyday heroes like her I’ll meet on my travels.

I’ll always remember Helen as a fairy Godmother who decided to pay me a visit to cheer me on and remind me to always believe that something wonderful is about to happen.

Eleni

My last Touch evening

Never would I ever imagined when I signed up to volunteer as an events assistant at Touch in April 2018 that a year later I’d be hosting a story telling evening, my last one in front of a buzzing, packed Coffeelab.

I still remember, vividly, the first ever Touch event I went to, at Talking Heads before it closed down. I remember I left feeling emotional and touched. What a great idea to inspire one another, by sharing our own stories about ill mental health, struggles we overcame and how we cope in this mad world. What a great shrine of hope in this sometimes dark world. https://elenisworld.org/2018/04/24/a-beautiful-evening-of-real-life-stories/

Since then every single event has been incredible.

From A foster carer, a former priest and other super humans…
https://elenisworld.org/2018/06/18/a-foster-carer-a-former-priest-and-other-super-humans-a-night-to-remember/

to an afternoon of songs and stories https://elenisworld.org/2018/09/11/an-afternoon-of-songs-and-stories/

a small, intimate evening in the cosy Jenny’s cafe in Hamble https://elenisworld.org/2018/11/01/tea-cake-and-life-stories-in-hamble/

to laughter and cry in Hythe https://elenisworld.org/2018/12/04/blogmas-day-3-tea-laughter-and-cry-in-hythe/

and one of the most amazing, magical evenings I had in my entire life:
https://elenisworld.org/2018/11/19/twas-the-night-of-superhumans/

I met incredible humans, standing in front of strangers sharing their most intimate, personal stories. It made me realise not only how many extraordinary people, everyday heroes live amongst us, but also how similar we all are, how we worry and struggle with the same things. We are not alone.

The founder, lovely Debs, the amazing Hannah and all the volunteers who joined since, are the nicest, kindest people I’ve ever met and they made my last storytelling event even more special.

Since I nervously stood in front of that crowd in BySea Cafe almost a year ago, the first event I ever hosted, I hosted many since, I absolutely love it, so when Debs asked me to host my last one, I said yes straight away (she also asked me to share one of my stories but I didn’t have time to prepare, I will do one day!).

It was another unforgettable evening with inspiring stories from Saire and Laura’s wonderful friendship, supporting each other throughout their ill mental health ups and downs, Claire’s epic journey with October Books, Chris’s incredible life story to Trago Lounge’s Matt and Reuben, two lovely men who run Trago Lounge as well as fundraising for Touch.

At the end of the evening Debs and Rachel surprised me with a gorgeous bouquet of tulips and roses, my favourite.

Thank you to everyone at Touch for all the amazing memories, stories and inspiration, especially to Debs and Hannah, for all your love and support.

I’d encourage anyone to volunteer for Touch, they do amazing work on raising awareness and encouraging people to talk about mental health and if you ever come across a Touch poster, go in. You’ll come out refreshed and for a while believe in humanity again.

I learned a lot from volunteering for Touch but the biggest lesson was to never stop sharing and talking about mental health.

PS Debs, I’ll definitely try starting something similar in Cyprus if I have enough time before I leave again.

Eleni

Oi kallikantzaroi (the Goblins)

Every year on this day, a vague, blurry memory of old Epiphany day celebrations in Cyprus pops in my mind. It’s a bright, sunny winter morning in Nicosia. I’m about 10 years old, I’m wearing a pretty dress and my little sister, a few years younger and I are going around to everyone at my grandpa’s house where the family was gathered saying Καλημερα τζιε τα Φώτα τζιε την πουλουστρινα πρωτα. ( It’s difficult to translate and won’t make much sense but Good morning, the Epiphany and a gift first).

They would all give us some money as a gift and we’d eat homemade loukoumades (Greek honey soaked dough balls) and then throw some on the roof to keep Kallikantzarous away. I’ve always found the Kallikantzarous folklore fascinating.

(Thank you to my sisters for this, the middle one for getting loukoumades for the family and the youngest for the pictures. I can’t taste them unfortunately but I could imagine how delicious they are).

Kallikantzaroi (goblins) live underground, sawing the world tree so it will fall and destroy the Earth, but when they are about to do so, it’s Christmas day which means they can come to the surface and cause trouble to humans.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kallikantzaros#/media/File:Kallikatzaroi.jpg

On the Epiphany (6 January), the sun starts moving again, and they have to go back and continue sawing. Whilst they were away the world tree has healed itself, because of the magic of Christmas, so they must start working all over again. This happens every year.

In Cyprus we throw loukoumades on the roof tops to keep them away from us on their last day and we sing the infamous Τιτσί τιτσι λουκάνικο, κομμάτι ξεροτήανο, να φάτε τζαι να φύετε. Also it is believed that they are scared of Holy Water and that’s why priests go to each house in the neighbourhood sprinkling Holy water from the Epiphany morning service.

And this is the story of Kallikantzaroi.

Eleni

Blogmas day 5- Christmas preparations

Yesterday I got an email from Easyjet. Check in for my flight back home on the 21st, which is LESS THAN THREE WEEKS, has now opened.

It suddenly hit me. I was excited and terrified in equal measure. Excited that I’m going home very soon, terrified I don’t have enough time to prepare for Christmas.

I still need to decorate my flat, I still have to get all the Christmas gifts for the family back home and a few special people here in Southampton and I have very few evenings free until the 21st. So what do I do?

PANIC! That was my immediate reaction.

OK, breathe.

First things first, I checked in. I don’t normally do it that early but I needed some cheering. And I got a window seat. At least something is going right.

Next up was sorting out the work Christmas lunch. I’ve been the unofficial Christmas do organiser for the last three years but this year felt like mission impossible. Although I’ve been Monica, super efficient, set up a Google survey with possible dates, restaurants and their Christmas menus (for some of which I contacted the restaurants and asked for a copy of their festive menus since they hadn’t published them then, I’m that efficient) but there was not a single date that most people could do.

So, I lost my mojo once again. It happens often lately.

But we finally agreed to do lunch on our last working day with whoever is around. Restaurant booked-this year we are going for a different option, a Phuket festive tapas menu at Mango, I can’t wait!- deposit finally paid today after an unsuccessful attempt over the phone yesterday and I arranged Secret Santa, sort of. As every year I put everyone’s name in a Santa hat and went around to see everyone.

How unlucky am I for my name to be left last in the Santa hat and for me to draw it?

I set it up online instead and hoping it will work!

Tonight is the only free night I have until the weekend, so after a much needed Yoga With Adriene session, it’s time for Christmas Friends (is the holiday Armadilloooo), digging out all the Christmas decorations in preparation for tomorrow when my 6 feet (1.80m for my Cypriot friends) arrives (I might have not this through, not sure it will fit anywhere in the living room) and some online Christmas shopping.

Phew!

How are your preparations going?

Merry-almost-Christmas!

Eleni

Blogmas Day 3: Tea, laughter and cry in Hythe

Monday 3rd of December

Today is all about the latest Touch event last night, this time at Hythe. It was the last one I could attend for this year and I wouldn’t miss it, no matter how tired I was.

I’m glad I didn’t. It’s as if the evening was sprinkled with Christmas magic. You’ll see why…

I didn’t know what to expect after the last one I’ve been in Eastleigh. Every Touch evening I’ve been has been incredible, but that one was very special. And last night was definitely one of my favourite so far.

There were no staff at St Andrews church cafe, so Rachel and I were on tea and coffee duty, which I enjoyed more than I thought I would. If only waitressing paid as well as my current job!

The first speaker was our own Debs who’s been sharing her story of how she founded Touch two years ago (you can read it here) at our events across Hampshire and although I’ve heard it twice so far, last night was different. Debs shared more than she did before, she moved everyone, she made everyone laugh. It was the perfect start.

Next up was Emily* (not real name), who Debs interviewed. And she was incredible. She told us all about her tough childhood, her struggles with depression, alcohol and drug addiction and the muscle disease she’s been living with since she was a teenager.

What I loved most about Emily was her sense of humour and her honesty. She somehow made talking about serious, sensitive, deeply personal matters very easy and natural.

As Emily herself said due to her stubbornness and honesty, her greatest strengths and weaknesses, and the love for her children, she never gave up, despite the physical and mental problems, dealing with unemployment due to her condition and so many other obstacles life threw at her. She learnt that being strong and independent doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask for help and support, it actually means the opposite.

She is now 7 years clean and every day wakes up knowing there is a reason she is on this earth, there’s a reason she wakes up and she is doing her best with whatever life gives her.

I had the chance to meet Emily after the break, as she came over to ask for another cup of tea and I was in such awe, I didn’t know what to say to her. So I made a complete fool of myself as one does and just said ‘You are so cool’. That’s the only thing I could come up with!

She smiled awkwardly, replied with a thank you and went back to her table. I’m such an idiot!

Next up was Denise* (not real name). Denise had a completely different life to Emily. She had a great life, a great husband, they had their first child as planned, everything was going well and then she suddenly didn’t feel like herself. She was diagnosed with post-natal depression a few months later, after she heard all the ‘advice’ most people give to you when you are struggling with depression.

-‘Cheer up’, ‘Your life is great, there’s nothing to be sad about’

You get the gist. A few years later, with great support from her family and therapist, she managed her depression with no medication. And all of a sudden, after partially losing her hearing on one ear, she was diagnosed with a brain tumour, which to begin with didn’t cause any other problems. Denise worried that her depression will flare up again but she tried her best to forget about her tumour and got on with her life. Until about a year ago, when her tumour grew and became dangerous. So she had to have an 8-hour surgery and re-teach her brain with physio how to use the left side of her body.

She is still to the day dealing with the side effects of her surgery but is feeling much better. She shared her story to say it’s OK not to be OK and it’s OK to talk about it. Another amazing human.

Last but not least was Heather (I’ve used Heather’s real name as she has shared her story in public before). Another astonishing story, another extraordinary human. Heather caught a life-threatening infection after a holiday and woke up in intensive care, fighting for her life. What actually brought her back from coma was her love for her son, Will. With not much support other than few friends and her mother, she moved back home after 6 months in hospital and pushed herself to get better and after a long, painful recovery, she was eager to help others.

A few years later she became a carer of her beloved mother, who suffered from severe back pain, which they later discovered was advanced metastatic cancer. Sadly her mum died of cancer a year ago but Heather is grateful.

Grateful she is alive, grateful of the lovely friends she made during her ordeal, who were there last night to cheer her on, grateful that her friends nominated her for Strictly’s Comic Relief and met her favourite dancers and celebrities.

She has since founded a charity, Where There’s A Will, to support ICU patients and their families.

What a marvellous evening. One of the highlights was a, at first glance serious man, who didn’t say much but by the end of the night he was moved so much he almost cried and thanked everyone and he couldn’t wait for our next event.

‘Anywhere will that be, I’m there, I’ll follow you anywhere’

On our way back, I asked Debs where she finds these amazing people. Debs answer sums it all really, that’s what Touch is all about…

‘I don’t find them, they find me… but it’s easy really, because everyone is amazing in their own way and tonight was a great example. Three completely different but amazing people. Everyone is amazing and everyone has a story and I’m grateful I bring these people together and make them feel comfortable to share their stories.

And people like that man, who was touched by the stories and loved it so much he asked us if we recorded it so he can watch it back as soon as he goes home, makes it all worthwhile’.

That’s what Christmas is all about really isn’t it? It’s all about people, helping each other, inspire one another and that’s what Touch does.

Eleni

I now sleep in the middle of the bed

About a month ago, on a chilly Saturday evening, I snuggled with a blanket on my sofa, all snacks, sweet n’ salty popcorn, chocolate and a cup of tea at an arm’s reach and put on Bridget Jones’s baby, -you got to Love Netflix-, oh what a bliss!

Five minutes in, a scene shocked me, no it wasn’t how different Bridget’s face looked like, a scene that many wouldn’t even remember. Why?

She sleeps in the middle of the bed… She sleeps in the middle of the bed!!!

Why was I so shocked?

I’ve been single for three years now and until a month ago I slept on the corner of the right side of the bed, leaving most of it untouched. How have I not thought about it until that moment?

My lifestyle has completely changed in the last couple of years, and I’ve changed plenty of previous habits since I lived on my own, but this revelation made me wonder. How many things in my daily life I still do just out of habit without realising? How many things we all do every single day in a specific way just because that’s what we are used to?

Since then, I re-arranged the many, many pillows I have on my bed and I now sleep in the middle. And I’ve never slept better. I don’t wake up scared I’m at the edge of the bed about to fall down, I actually make the most of it and spread, move, swirl to my heart’s content.

I’m now trying to figure out what else I do because I’m used to it, because it worked better before when I was younger/in a relationship/completely different and not because it’s the most convenient, comfortable solution.

Next time you do something you do every day, stop for a minute and think of why you are actually doing in that way, at that time. The answer may shock you!

Eleni

Koupes! Freskes koupes!

Early 1990s…

In a small neighbourhood at Strovolos, in Nicosia, on a sunny morning, my sister, our friends, the neighbours next door and I are playing in the front yard, as we did most weekends.

Suddenly, a familiar voice…

‘ Ούλλοι να ζήσουμε! Κουπες, έσηιει φρέσκες κούπες! ( We all need to make a living! Koupes, fresh koupes!)’

Yiannis, the ‘koupes man’ (Ο Γιαννής που τις κούπες), a short, always wearing a hat and always smiling 60 year old was going around the neighbourhoods on his little vespa with a huge box on the back to keep his homemade koupes warm (it’s still uncertain whether he made them himself or his wife did, if any of my childhood friends know more, please do comment).

There are very few things I enjoyed more than a warm koupa with freshly squeezed lemon on a Saturday morning.

So what is koupa? Κούπα/kibbeh/keufteh/içli köfte as it’s known in other countries is an eastern Mediterranean and Middle Eastern (where the Med meets the Arabic cuisine) dish made of bulgur, minced onions, and finely ground lean beef, lamb, goat, or camel meat with Middle Eastern spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, allspice).

In Cyprus is made of bulgur, minced onions, minced beef and spices. The best way to describe it is a mince filled croquette (there is also veggie variant with mushroom filling).

And is delicious. The slightly crispy but soft bulgur crust, the tasty, faintly sweet from the spices, the onions and the beef filling and the bitterness of the lemon, it’s hard to imagine until you try it.

None of the koupes I had since Yiannis died years ago ever tasted the same and it never will, that’s the beauty of homemade food but it’s still one of my favourite treats. This is the first thing I’m having when I make it home for Christmas.

You can find koupes in most bakeries and few fast food restaurants.

Special thanks to my mum for reminding me some of the finer details I forgot. I had no idea Yiannis was actually my grandpa’s cousin!

Eleni