Calypso's Tales

Once upon a time in Oxford, many, many moons ago, A Greek professor was talking about Turkey's entry to the EU, defining Europe as a place where she/one would go, and still feel at home. My retort to that had been, it also worked the other way around. Turkey was European to the extent that I (as a Turk) felt at home wherever I travelled in Europe, and said that I felt completely at home in England, and especially London (as a hijabi, among other hijabis)
She then said that Turkey was not only Istanbul, and that one had to consider all those chador wearing women in Anatolia (not wanting to take over the discussion I refrained from explaining that the chador was more of an urban clothing, that women in Anatolian villages preferred local clothing- baggy trousers and flowery headscarves, nothing to do with chador whatsoever)
Calypso had already said that, for all she cared, she wanted Istanbul to be part of the EU, for that was where her grandparents were from. That had done it. I swore (unconsciously, it must have been, for I only realized this urge when I saw the call for papers for Salonica) that I would say the opposite of that at some point in the future- make known that expulsions had not been one way. "I am very happy to be here today, the city where my grandfather is from"
But of course, in the event, I said no such thing. Because I had other worries, plans and aims at that time... but it is always so with me, my prepared lines are overwritten by more pressing needs and interests, and I guess I like it that way too.

I kept returning to Calypso's statement throughout my stay in Thessaloniki. So, then, this is where Europeans (as I know them) would feel at home? women crossing themselves each time they pass a church, the stores closing for siesta right after lunchtime (and woe to you if you should want to have a snack and do some last minute shopping), the waiters adding their tips onto the bill by themselves, where the third letter of the alphabet is not C, but G (a friend of mine kept looking for building (G)amma where she was staying at, which turned out to be the third building on the compound, not the seventh..... I raised my proverbial glass to Calypso and said "Have it your way darling!" and rued that I had not known the state of affairs those many moons ago to enjoy the (unintended?) irony of what she said.