By Constantinos G. Polymeros, PhD candidate at the University of Thessaly, Greece
We Greeks have always been adventurous people. The Minoans sailed the Mediterranean and traded exotic goods. Later, the sailors told stories of faraway lands and strange peoples which Homer included in his “Odyssey”.
The beautiful but inhospitable landscape of Greece is something like a fate for the Greeks: it led the early adventurers to emigration and travel. It is the same landscape that led our great-grandfathers to board ocean liners such as the “Patrίs”, too. And, if the ancient Greek merchants emigrated as far as India, our great-grandfathers proved more daring: they sought a better life across the ocean, in Australia and the US.
We all heard family stories of hardship. Few possessions did those emigrants bring with them – some did not even wear shoes; some swam in the cold water because they could not afford the fare from the ocean liner to the dock.
And yet, like our ancient sailors in Egypt or Spain, they bore something rare: a language spoken for millennia incessantly. And they also bore their unborn children. Thus, almost all Greeks from mainland Greece speak of a relative abroad – you.
An overseas Greece was created. “Athens” or “Kalymnos” were built in the US, too. As it happens with all emigrants, some of the Greeks learned perfect English, while others remained stuck at a certain proficiency level.
However, on the meeting point of Greek and Anglo-Saxon culture, interesting linguistic hybrids were born. The Greek endings were directly attached to English words. Thus, “cake” became a neutral: “Kéki”; “market” became a female “markéta”, etc. Such sociolects remain a thing among second and even third generation Greeks because they are a part of their identity – a kind of communal speech.
Then came a generation of Greeks who could say only the basics in Greek. Many can speak a few words but cannot arrange them into a sentence. Thus, my cousins in the US can only say “kaliméra” – for “goodnight”, they return to English. Are they birds that have forgotten how to sing? A language purist would respond positively.
My humble opinion is that languages cannot be walled: they borrow words, they make hybrids – in other words, they are alive. Why should the language spoken by Greek emigrants be any different? Their identity is no less Greek.
The English language is full of Greek loanwords; thousands of words we use contain memories of Greece. Even if we do not know that Tantalus was cursed to remain hungry for ever, we do use the verb “tantalize”. The same happens with “Midas’ touch”, and the like. One would say that, for a native speaker of English, the way to learn Greek is open, even if it is not an easy one to tread.
An ancient Greek saying holds that “Beginning is half of everything”. So, here is a start: tomorrow you can start your morning with a hearty “kalimera”, and you are halfway there to speaking Greek.
Happy International Day of Mother Tongue to all my sisters and brothers!
