: Giota Tsarmpopoulou
: Children of the Mediterranean The odyssey of the Unescorted Refugee Children
: AKAKIA Publications
: 9781911352549
: 1
: CHF 6.00
:
: Pädagogik
: English
: 292
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

A new-historical, realistic, social-political novel. A current, strong reference to the refugee crisis, which strikes the unescorted innocent refugee children.
At the beginning of the autumn of 2014, Leto, a teacher of Greek literature is assigned in a secondary school of Kos, as a contract teacher. There, she meets a lot of refugees from Syria, who arrive on the island, with old and rusty boats, from the Turkish shores. After a big wreck, she consciously decides to help them as a volunteer in 'Hippokratio' hospital of Kos. There, she is responsible for three heavily injured men from Syria. One of them is Aslan, a friend from their common post graduate studies in Aberdeen University, Scotland. In the same room, there are two other friends of him, Jamal and Ossama. They all accompany nine refugee children, orphans of the war. Leto is involved in the life of the three injured men and the nine refugee children. The refugee issue becomes her own issue, a part of her, which she wholeheartedly expresses through playing her guitar to her students of Kos throughout her whole life. She challenges the attitudes of European Union and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, as well as all the involved nations. She stands by the unescorted refugee children, sensitively, who become victims of dangerous criminals and they get lost in den of vices of prostitution, pederasty, trafficking in human organs, drugs and so on, on their way to the Central and North Europe. Leto's strong love for Aslan and her love for children leads her to the Central Europe where she participates energetically to the refugee matter, and she takes position practically, to an item which overconcerns all Europe, the whole world, the United Nations, as it brutally beats all the nations of Mediterranean Sea, pandering hidden and illegal interests, but obvious too.
A book which challenges racism, xenophobia and religious prejudice, stands by the human and supports the universal values that are torn up by the war, the civil war, the total hatreds, and fanatics. It is asking for solidarity and faithful implementation of laws and rules of the U.N., which are closely linked to the human rights.




The Decision

After getting my degree from the University of Athens, I used to work at a Secondary School in Mets, Athens, just behind the Panathenian Stadium, as an hourly-paid teacher. The school, simple and quiet was almost leaning against the wall of the First Cemetery of Athens. Pay was meagre but the job was a lot and a responsible one. My teaching tasks were ‘Composition’ and ‘Modern Greek Literature’, which meant conveying modern Greek to my students at school, attempting to improve their written as well as oral expression skills. I did not always achieve it. Language cannot be taught in a single winter term, in just a few months in a year… Language is a sea! How on earth can any little poor devil who has failed to swim in it since a tender age through fairy stories, short stories, school books, literature texts and who remains impassive and uninterested in school, possibly learn to express him or herself in writing within a three-month period based only on teaching at school?

How can the parent comprehend this, when he looks me in the eye and insists?

“He must want to do this himself but also …be able to at the same time”, I used to stress all the time.

I therefore had to put up extra effort for these children who were struggling due to their disproportional gaps in their education but with questionable effect. And all that without any particular gain for me, since the Greek State under the hardly bearable economic crisis, left no margin for any profit, owing to the unbelievable harsh taxation it had enforced on the Greeks, allowing for only a meagre, simple and struggling survival.

It must have been around the end of August when Helen, a dear old friend and university fellow student phoned me.

“Hey Leto, you wonderwoman, guess what! The first, few and far between, contract teacher assignments were announced by the Ministry of Education…! You have been assigned to the Dodecanese while I, to the Cyclades! The assignments have been posted in the newspapers just a while ago!” my friend announced with uncontained enthusiasm.

“Helen, what are you talking about? Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, I have the newspaper right here in front of me!”

“That’s strange, I sort of expected it next year, not this year…!” I responded reticently.

“Oh, come on, I’ll drop by this evening to pick you up for a glass of wine, just around the corner, at Barnabas square”, she said decisively.

“All right, pick me up at eight”, I answered rather numbly.

At eight, Helen made her appearance, dressed to the nines, perfumed, her face full of light! The familiar quaint little taverna we sat at, titillated our noses with its appetizers and superb wine. Helen filled our glasses and we said “cheers” with wishes that warded off the financial crisis that was binding our hands, practically our lives and our hopes.

“To a better future than this ugly present…!” we said to each other in tandem and we meant it literally, sipping slowly that aromatic Nemea wine that filled the palate with several scents.

“At last to escape the misery of uncertainty, exploitation, and the dependence on others! This is a public school, with a meagre pay, but…a secure and decent job, having to do with adolescence and knowledge; my dearest, how sweet it sounds…!” Helen kept on repeating enthusiastically.

“So, what do we do now? We have to be going shortly. Some sailed away to Chios, while others to Mytilene…as the song says…” I answered wearily.

“I fail to see any enthusiasm in you, Leto. Was it not you who used to fill my ears every now and then with your desire to work as a contract teacher in a public school, saying that it was there that you could perform better, be creative on a wholly new context, and devote yourself more to your work? Was it not you who used to say that hourly-paid teaching is mere slavery? Now…why the long face?” she asked, seeking in my glance the true answer.

“Helen, I am not the hindrance h