The head of the Foutreiko clan
my Thio, eldest of twelve siblings,
is the ex-head of Limassol police force
has come to visit the great land of Aus
for the first time in his life
All my life he’s been saying he’s gonna come,
but last time I went to Cyprus
(first time I travelled on my own)
he confided in me he was afraid
he’d miss connecting flights
get stuck in Dubai
I assured him he would be just fine
Scathed and separated,
barely able to converse with my family in Aus,
I dragged myself to Cyprus to finish my novel
only to unearth love I never knew existed,
relatives I skimmed over in the past
connecting broken bits of my heart
He promised me he’d come.
I made him promise on my last day
after I’d spent my final hours
crying and writing
the ending of a book
which has taken me
ten years to unlock.
He arrived to take me to the airport,
and he and my Thia Antri
were cursing me for not
packing my suitcase earlier,
were jumping and sitting on it
trying to get it shut
almost tore the seams
too much stuff
to take back home
Sometimes I wonder what it is
that has me aching for Thia Antri’s house,
sitting with her at the kitchen table
her cigarettes, deep conversations,
meanings of life, never enough time,
always wanting more words,
my relatives in Cyprus
are the only people in my life
I allow to lecture me,
and I actually look
forward to it
Yiati kles? Thia said to me out the front of her house.
Na min kles, agapi mou, entaxi? Don’t cry, my love
Then thelo na figo. I don’t want to leave, I said, and I held her.
When Dad brought Thio home from the airport
I ran out into the darkness of the driveway
and in his 24-hour jet lag disorientation
he scooped me in his arms, both crying
‘Irtha, Koralia mou, irtha…’
I came, Koralia mou, I came
Today I went to visit him at Mum’s,
he’s already packing the suitcase
and once again I didn’t cram
enough lifetime memories
into two months of time
At the kitchen table we have lunch
and he lectures me on
taking my life by the reigns,
wants to see me accomplished
‘Prepi na vris kanoniki thoulgia’
You must find a proper job
to expand your mind
and stop with this writing
I’m smiling away…
He tells me other advice too:
Don’t believe anything you hear
and only believe half of what you see.
‘Na ta vlepis oulla anapotha prota kai meta isha’
See everything in reverse first then straight
At night the Aus Foutreiko clan
assembles at Mum’s place,
Greek coffee and cakes
tears and sombre laughter,
my five aunties, sisters to my Thio,
sent here by my grandfather
because he didn’t have a dowry
to marry them off,
don’t know when they will see
their brother again
I’m not going to the airport!
How many times does one have to
cry down a stretch of freeway?
The overexcitement at arrivals,
try not to get too attached
so the goodbye doesn’t ache so bad
see you I don’t know when again
The Foutreiko clan has done well
Half of us over here, the other half over there
I think there are close to one-hundred of us
We will never all be in the same room
Sometimes I aspire to become a bestselling writer
just so I can have enough money to one day
organise a reunion of all of us in Cyprus
On that day my grandparents will be happy in heaven
As for the clan here in Aus,
when we were younger,
the families would always get together,
but then we got older,
cousins started going in their own directions
and we’ve kind of drifted in and out
over the years
until Pete put his foot down recently
organised a picnic, just the cousins
(the parents would just ball break matters)
and Pete said he’s waiting for a poem
about the family, which was a nice thing to say.
People brought too many sneks
and as George sizzled the sosinges
we were stuffing snakes in our face
and then Liz said we’re gonna
ruin our appetites and the kiddies
were running around and my sis
was looking for the wog knives
to cut up the onions for the salad
Where’s my sausage? the other Pete asked.
Do you want me to get you one? Pete said.
Yeah. With sauce.
And it was done. Because that’s what we do.
Did you guys bring the poker set?
Can girls play? I laugh.
That’s what I would always say.
Can girls play. Can girls play.
And I remember new years in the garage
when we were young, childless and free,
I was the only girl that wanted to play
Sometimes they’d let me
But Pete would win all my money
I don’t play this time.
Instead I take little Mia in my arms
bottle feed her as the sun sets.
I look at my clock when I’m done
realise I haven’t checked my phone once
in the five hour duration
and I have never done that before
My little one couldn’t come
She was with her Dad
Sometimes I cry when she isn’t with me
and I don’t know why I am crying,
in pain, I search for more pain,
to keep myself there
found my medicine recently though
A bunch of aunties and uncles
30 something cousins
and their little kiddies
to cuddle up to tight
when my heart is aching
for my own little princess
a circle of unconditional safety
love in abundance
Here’s your poem, Pete
Took a long time to write it
My whole life
My precious Foutreiko clan
Broken in two countries
But always one, our blood
My Foutreiko clan
