This collection on http://www.archive.org houses the speeches of Peter Stathoulis, my late father, a prominent member of the Greek diaspora in South Africa. The speeches, numbering around one hundred, cover aspects of his life and his involvement in the Greek community in Alberton and South Africa from the 1960s to the late 2000s. They serve…
The Tree of Life
I had been searching for a year. Because of the pandemic, in spite of the pandemic and to heal from the pandemic. Finally in May this year I was gifted what seemed to have become an impossible task. I messaged the hospital manager : “the trees have arrived. I’ll come by later in the week…
Conversations about Recognition
We were out to dinner with some friends last night and the chef was one of Ines’ patients from about two years back. Ines had never been to Vintage India but knew she worked there and looked for her to say hello. They both recognised each other. But that’s not the kind of recognition I…
Conversations on Directions
My father always drew a distinction between a house and a home. The former was a shell that was never filled with love or tradition; the latter was filled with family, love, tradition, happiness and sadness. As Zorba the Greek might have paraphrased: “A home held the whole catastrophe”. Before Greece started its cadastral records…
Conversations at an Interview
Alberton in the seventies was already blown wide open when one of the Greek community’s sons underwent gender reassignment surgery. In his teens he became a she. There was never any malicious talk that I can remember from that conservative community. There were no hushed whispers when she came to church. We used to be…
Conversations on Potatoes
I know today is a holiday in Greece. The day we said OXI (no) to the invasion by the Italians. Yesterday we said yes to the European banks writing off 50% of their Greek debt. I doubt OXI will change to EFXARISTO (thanks). My father spent many OXI days making speeches at schools and churches…
Conversations about Pictures
When my father was at school and varsity he used to develop and print black and white pictures in the bathroom at the old house. The prints were smaller than a postcard and were contact prints. He placed the negative over the paper and exposed it to light. No enlarger. At home these prints were…
Conversations with the Baker’s Wife
The straight road from our village Artemisio into Tripolis reaches the first platea or square quickly. The bus stops here as well, and it’s our village square. The villagers alight here, greet each other and bemoan the state of affairs. The square is dry and dusty, with bright light because all the buildings are painted…
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