My Big Fat Greek Childhood

It never ceases to amaze me that my quasi-Greek childhood tends to become relevant at the oddest moments. One of the most memorable was during the year that I studied in England. A bunch of my flatmates and friends were sitting around the kitchen table chatting [nothing shocking so far as this is where we were usually to be found]. Alex, a Greek friend-of-the-flat, was going on and on about something, when, finally needing to interject, I turned to him and told him to blow up, 'eh - in Greek of course. The one foot jump in the air and the look on his face was priceless! All movement in the kitchen stopped, while Alex regained his balance and looked at me trying to get words out of his mouth. But, but, but, how? why? It was then that I explained that the primary and secondary schools that I went to in Montreal were overwhelmingly Greek and that learning a few of the more, um, essential, words in Greek was almost part of the official curriculum.

Fast-forward to last Wednesday in Recife, Brazil and the swank going away party of the Japanese Consul General....

As happens with diplomatic functions, everyone was standing around in small groups chitchatting, admiring the location [well deserved in this case], and trying to figure out how to hold a plate of food, a glass of drink, eat, and shake people's hands at the same time. I digress, but this is not an easy task. At the moment, I found myself talking to the Honourary Consul (HC) of Venezuela, when we were joined by the younger HC of Cyprus [it also never ceases to amaze me to see which countries have honourary consuls in Recife]. Obviously the two HCs were on close terms and they immediately started joking around and slapping each other on the back. Turning to me, the younger of the two joked to the other, Ah! Perhaps we should start speaking in Greek, you know, to protect the young lady.... Explaining the phenomena of my Big Fat Greek Childhood, I cautioned them carefully. Amazed that I could come out with anything in Greek, I unfortunately had to limit the display of my knowledge, most of it, being, well, unsuitable to a diplomatic event!

If, when I was thirteen years old, someone had told me to pay better attention to the locker-talk going on around me because one day I would meet the Honourary Consul for Cyprus while on posting in Recife, and would need to hold a meaningful conversation in Greek, would I have believed them?