artemisio
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Conversations at Keza’s
“Gia sou Vasili. Ela. Ti nea? Ti na sou keraso?” Keza always greeted me almost like…
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Conversations on Directions
My father always drew a distinction between a house and a home. The former was a…
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Conversations while Walking
The best time we had together was when we walked. We never walked together in Durban.…
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Conversations on Rituals
I always questioned my father’s rituals. He had many. Some every day, some every week, some…
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Conversations with the Baker’s Wife
The straight road from our village Artemisio into Tripolis reaches the first platea or square quickly.…
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