A friend’s story who taught Greek to a child from Afghanistan was just the beginning. It sparked past sensitivities in me. I immediately went online and began gathering information about the Afghan Community, searching for the phone number and address.
Mohammed’s voice, warm and familiar, won me over from the start. He was inviting me to visit him. His direct communication and his kindness convinced me that it was worth embarking on a very nice adventure.
With language as a teaching tool, I would gain the most beautiful soul connection with children and adolescents from the refugee camps. Asty, Sakayak, Hussein, Morteza, Ahmet, Saraya, Zahra, Mosga, Magdi, Melika, Tala…
I remember the face and smile of each child. The children bore such pure gazes, such spiritual beauty despite having lived in Kara Tepe, Moria, Eleonas, Oinofyta, Malakasa… Lesson time would be a bright moment for them, an escape from the miserable apartments they lived in, and for me a rich life experience.
I had to devise ways of teaching. I had to find the intermediate language so I could communicate with them and teach them Greek. So, I started to learn English. I had the best motivation. I was studying and teaching. I used mobile apps, drawings, coloured markers, number cards, and pantomime. Each concept brought a surprise.
During the pandemic when the community closed, I also taught Greek for several months to the children’s parents using messenger. It was a challenge to teach remotely, with only tool a mobile phone. I would photograph and send them the language exercises and they in turn would send me their answers. Their response was impressive.
That’s how I met their families and connected with them. They became my relatives. I visited them and they visited me. We gave and received love. We continued communication with some families even after they settled in foreign countries. As with Asty’s family that managed to reach Germany amidst many difficulties. During a phone call, they told me that they had named their newborn baby girl after me. The greatest gift. What a thrill, what a blessing!!!
We communicate often. I visited them in Germany, in Hamburg. A most wonderful hospitality!!!! A new connection, a new page. Because beautiful things are not lost. They leave their mark and give birth to new experiences of love.
What, I wonder, has become of the children whose traces I have lost, but not their memory?
