Our City: Salonica

Our City: Salonica Eleni Bastea This could be the script of a short film. It is the representation of a city from the inside. Most of the cast has lived in the city long enough to consider it home. The following stories and discussions have been heard, or could have been heard, in Salonica sometime in the last 10 years. Together with the echoes of the different voices, their surrounding settings came to my mind. I have tried to describe these because they represent the settings in which the people chose, or learned, to live. The various stories and characters came to my mind in a continuous, and perhaps arbitrary, sequence that I have maintained in this essay. Several of the stories are relevant to the city's history; others are less so, but I have included them, also. The fate of the city has been intertwined with the fate of its citizens and it is impossible to separate the two. Some aspects of the city's life have inevitably been left out. In this way I want to show how an insider's story can be meaningful to outsiders interested in a city's history. I was b o r n i n a small village near Yannena. I finished high school there. M y uncle, w h o lived i n Salonica, offered to help me t h r o u g h the university. I came, prepared for, and passed the entrance exams. I entered the school o f philosophy. T h e n y o u c o u l d choose between classics and archaeology. I chose archaeology. I w e n t to Pella, several summers, o n excavations. I taught at the University o f Yannena for a few years. Finally, we came to Salonica, and I taught at the university here. T h e n , it was time to leave. . . . I spent a semester at Princeton, at the Institute. N o w I teach some o f the summer courses i n the Institute for B a l k a n Studies. I w r i t e a little b i t for Macedonian Life . . . Y o u know. . . . Episode T w o [ D i n i n g r o o m i n an a p a r t m e n t near the sea. T h e i n t e r i o r is d o m i n a t e d by t w o crystal cases and a r o u n d table, covered w i t h a heavy velvet tablecloth. M o s t o f the f u r n i t u r e , i n c l u d i n g the antique chandelier, seems t o o large for the m o d e r n apartment. I t is still l i g h t o u t , b u t the shutters are pulled for privacy. O t h e r w i s e , the residents o f the apartments across the n a r r o w street c o u l d easily see inside. A n elderly w o m a n . H e r g r a y i n g hair is care­ fully c o m b e d . H e r eyes are l i g h t l y made up.] O h , I came f r o m Smyrna i n 1922, w i t h the exchange o f p o p u l a t i o n . I was a little girl then. I was an o n l y c h i l d for quite a w h i l e . M y m o t h e r lost three c h i l d r e n , all boys, all before they reached three. W e were all shattered then. T h e y had set fires i n o u r houses i n Smyrna w h i l e w e were leaving. Y o u c o u l d smell the ripe cheeses b u r n i n g in the cellars. F i n a l l y , o u r t u r n came to get i n a b o a t . It was g o i n g to Salonica. W e carried a few things w i t h us, the icon o f St. O n o u f r i o s , pray for us. . . . M y mother's sister and her h u s b a n d embarked o n another b o a t . T h a t one was going to A t h e n s . Y o u see, m y uncle already had a g o o d p o s i t i o n in Smyrna. H e w o r k e d for the railways. M y father was a butcher. H e had a shop w i t h his brother. But he was so naive, he never managed to make any money. W e l l , we came to Salonica. T h e people here, o h , they w e r e shepherds, really, peasants f r o m the m o u n t a i n s . The new-comers w o u l d ask t h e m a question a n d instead o f an answer they w o u l d go, 'ah?'. M y uncles remembered that. W e came and showed t h e m the ways, really. . . . A t first we lived i n a nice house, w i t h a y a r d . Y o u r father remembers it, t o o . M r s . Pappa lived next door. W h a t a polite lady! They had a piano. W e l l , we h a d to move because my father's business was n o t d o i n g w e l l . W e w e n t to R a k t i v a n , near St. A i k a t e r i n i ' s church. T h a t house d i d n o t have a y a r d , b u t , y o u see, i n those days, y o u d i d n ' t have all these a p a r t m e n t buildings a l l a r o u n d . There was lots o f open space and c h i l d r e n c o u l d play outside all day i f they w a n t e d . F i n a l l y , w h e n I got m a r r i e d I m o v e d to y o u r uncle's house. Y o u remember that. O h , all those dinners I gave there. M y neighbors, those t h a t are still left, remember. M a d a m e Fernandez and her Episode O n e [ D o w n t o w n . A small a p a r t m e n t l i v i n g r o o m filled w i t h books, drawings, and slides. Small, decorative f o l k - a r t pieces f r o m different parts o f Greece hang o n the w a l l s . L i g h t and m i d - d a y street noises enter t h r o u g h the half-open balcony d o o r . A gentle m a n i n his late sixties.] Places/Volume 1, Number 3