So, I am back home again, right on time to enroll in the State School of Tourism in Saronis, after my success in the entrance examinations of June. I am one of the best students in class, I can't say that I have any problem with the school or the people here, yet I can't avoid certain familiar situations: Once again I feel alienated; I really wish to approach the other students, but it just proves to be impossible. Most of the times it is as if I bumped against an invisible wall of ice. I usually keep company with the three most boring girls in the class, who call me Nonny (how dull!). As about the boys, the only one who shows an interest in me is Dennis, a greenhorn with a big head and a plump body, who likes to call me “Bonn” and when I get angry he wonders why...
Wednesday, 27th March 1985
My class is on a five-day trip on the island of Rhodes. We have been here for three days now. At first I was in no mood for something like that, and Ι decided to take part at the last moment. I'm having a wonderful time here, even if I feel left out sometimes. In the mornings we go for walks in the city of Rhodes or we visit big hotels. In the evenings we have fun in glamorous clubs and pubs with live music. We have also visited many interesting sights such as the Acropolis of Lindos, the Medicinal Baths of Kallithea, the Seven Springs, the Valley of Butterflies etc.
This afternoon we happened to find a football and we decided to play on a prairie near Filerimos. I have never liked this game but I tried to do my best; I even managed to intercept a tall player of the rival team once.
However, soon it proved to be too difficult for me to get the ball, to go after a rival player, to dribble and all that. Strangely enough, all the other girls could play better than me. “Is Yvonne with us?” joked Mr Golfis, our teacher, every now and then. Soon nobody made a pass to me, and after some boring minutes I preferred to withdraw without saying a word to anybody. Anyway, in all likelihood nobody noticed my absence.
… I took a narrow, stone path which went up a green hillside; all around me there were tall trees in leaf, small sunny glades, wild flowers in bloom, no people; just blissful serenity under a blue sky and a bright sun. My classmates seemed to be millions of miles away. I had a strange feeling, as if there was no other human being on earth. I walked all the way up the hill, all alone in that isolated green paradise. Spontaneously I let myself unwind, all worries faded away, any sense of time was lost. For the first time in my life I was feeling complete, balanced, happy, alive. I was one with the thriving, unspoilt nature that surrounded me. Everything looked shiny and vibrant, from the tallest tree to the weakest grass blade; it was as if an esoteric truth was being conveyed to me from the whole world -a truth I could not put in words, but it filled my soul with an unprecedented sense of nirvana. The most outstanding experience of my whole life...
When I reached the end of the path, in front of the wooden gate of a Frankish monastery, I took the way back almost mechanically. I started walking down slowly, unwillingly, pausing every now and then, silently bidding farewell to every leaf, every flower, every shadow, leaving behind one by one the pieces of that secret paradise.
Suddenly I heard people talking behind me, which annoyed me a lot. An aged couple had just come out of the monastery and they were already walking down the path, getting closer and closer to me. Their loud voices and footfalls destroyed all the magic. I accelerated my pace, so as to get away from them. “Reality” was calling me back peremptorily, and I could do nothing but obey...
Friday, 17th May 1985
This morning we brought home my baby nephew, who will be named Yanni. He is my sister's first child and he is only six days old. Four days ago, when we first saw him in the maternity clinic, he was a hairy, flushed up, wrinkled little thing, cute but ugly. He looks a lot better now: He is beautiful, sweet and funny; he has rosy cheeks, sad eyes, and bad hiccups. My sister has been holding him in her lap for an hour or so, and she is sad and worried because she doesn't know what to do to make him stop.
As about the boy's parents, they are still a rather adventurous couple: Antony is still crude and violent, he always shouts and beats up Alice over a trifle. He has a permanent job as a carpenter's assistant but he spends all his money in extravagant hobbies: scuba diving, boats, fishing equipment and that sort of thing. Every time (that is quite often) we hear screams coming from upstairs, my parents run to my sister's apartment, so as to prevent Antony from thrashing the life out of Alice. Moreover, they often help the couple financially.
My sister is whining all the time but she actually likes the whole situation because she is madly in love with Antony. She thinks that smacks are a proof of love and the more she gets beaten up the more she feels like a diva. She looks down on me because I don't have a boyfriend, and she often accuses my parents of interfering with her family affairs; however, she enjoys bleeding them for lots of money time after time...
Wednesday, 22nd May 1985
In the meanwhile, a new problem has come into my life and it's driving me crazy: The fat, illiterate, boorish tenant who has rented our ground floor is in the habit of playing the shepherd's flute, three notes all the time, always out in the yard so that the whole neighbourhood can admire him. He plays non-stop from 3:00 o'clock in the afternoon, when he returns from work, to 1:00 after midnight! At weekends, when he doesn't work, he plays from 7:00 in the morning to 1:00 after midnight, without a break! This means that we are obliged to hear that nerve-racking noise for 10-18 hours every day! It is impossible for me to get any peace, day or night!
At 3:30 this afternoon, after having suffered that horrible noise pollution since 7:00 in the morning, I finally flew off the handle and burst out shouting:
“I've had enough with that boor downstairs, he does nothing all day but play that awful flute! We can't have a moment's quiet!”
“Sssst! He will hear you!” said my mother.
Next moment, the boor disappeared into the house. Better late than never...
Monday, 27th May 1985
The results of the final exams in the State School of Tourism have just come out. I am fourth in the list of best grades, which means I will be the fourth to select the hotel where I will serve my apprenticeship during the summer. I am very happy about it because, in all probability, I will have the opportunity to choose the hotel Galactic, where my school belongs. I will be feeling secure and comfortable there, since I already know the people and the environment.
This morning, just a few minutes before we had entered the class, I was accosted by Mary, a vamp classmate, who during the whole school year hadn't even said “hello” to me. Accompanied by a large group of her friends, she explained to me that she wished to do her practice at the hotel Carmen, which is in Patissia, near her house. The problem is that she is very low in the list of grades, so she isn't likely to have the chance of choosing that hotel:
“I will be obliged to come to Galactic, which is too far for me. If they send me here, I won't serve my apprenticeship, and I won't take my diploma” she said sadly.
“Won't you be able to take the hotel coach, as usual?” I wondered.
“There is no coach during the summer months and I can't stand the heat in the buses,” she answered with a frown.
Then, one of her friends started explaining to me a traditional trick done on this occasion every year: “When your turn comes, you will choose the hotel Carmen, and Mary will choose Galactic...”
“How can we be sure that Mary will be able to choose Galactic? What if someone else wants it first?” I asked.
“Oh, don't worry, no one wants to come here!” answered another one. “Now listen: When the selection procedure is over, you will raise your hand and say that you have changed your mind and that you want to exchange hotels with another person. Mary will answer to your proposal, and both of you will finally get what you really want!”
“What if the teachers refuse to let us exchange?”
“Don't be afraid, they have never refused, there is no such risk!” they all reassured me.
Just as expected, when the
selection procedure was over, one of the three teachers asked the class: “Does anyone of you wish to add something?”
About fifteen pupils raised their hands, but the teachers asked me to speak first.
“I have just changed my mind; I wish to exchange the hotel Carmen for Galactic,” I said. Mary, who had chosen Galactic, raised her hand and agreed to my proposal. So far so good.
“Oh, the same story,” said the teacher smiling. She turned and whispered something to the colleague standing next to her, and then she answered to me:
“I understand you are doing this so as to help your classmate, but it isn't right to sacrifice yourself for others. For this reason, we won't accept the exchange!”
I could hardly believe my ears.
“But... Mary can't come here, all the way from Patissia to Saronis, in the heat of the summer! If you don't accept the exchange, Mary won't do her practice in any hotel! Besides, I actually want to serve my apprenticeship here, at the hotel Galactic!” I protested, to no avail of course.
Needless to say, after that incident none of the other pupils dared ask an exchange.
Thursday, 20th June 1985
Since the beginning of this month I have been serving my apprenticeship as an assistant receptionist at the hotel Carmen. It is a beautiful, luxurious hotel, and the people are kind and friendly. However, it is very far from my home and commuting takes me about four hours every day. At least, these four months of apprenticeship will give me some working experience which will help me find a proper job later, I suppose.
Unfortunately, every day I have to put up with Zeta, an arrogant and disagreeable colleague who used to be my classmate at the School of Tourism. Quite unexpectedly, she has come to do her practice at the hotel Carmen too, even if she wasn't really entitled to it: Having done really bad in the final exams, she should have ended up on some island. However, she was finally admitted here because, as she boasts with an air of importance, she often goes out with Mr Makris, a sixty-year-old teacher at the School of Tourism.
Anyway, she doesn't seem to appreciate the post she has been given: This morning, when I told her that I like it here and that I would like to be hired as a permanent employee, she let herself go almost angry:
“I certainly don't intend to spend all my life in a hotel reception! I am not a mollycoddle, I want a job with action and prospects!”
“So, what are you doing here?” I wondered.
“I am here for the experience only!” she replied pompously.
“And you will waste four months of your life for an experience that doesn't really matter to you?”
“Yes, but I won't stop here! I'm not a sleepyhead like you, I want an adventurous job!”
“Such as?”
“I am going to be a tourist guide one day!”
“So, we are talking about great adventure!” I couldn't help mocking.
Right then, the chief receptionist came and assigned us with certain tasks: I entered some customers' charges on the computer and Zeta did some filing. Fortunately, the discussion was interrupted at the right moment, for I had no idea how it would end...
Thursday, 27th June 1985
It is getting more and more obvious to me that some people here don't like me. This is probably due to the fact that Zeta is constantly slandering me to everybody. Strangely enough, they all believe what she says and they are always on her side. As about me, I do my best every day at work, I am always polite, willing and efficient, but nobody seems to be impressed.
On the other hand, it's true that sometimes I don't know where I stand: When there is no work to do, I have to show that I am occupied with something, otherwise they will grumble that I'm lazy. When I really have work to do, they often complain I get in their way.
“What will the hotel owner say, if he happens to see you checking out a customer? So, let us be and do some filing!” I was reprimanded today by Kelly, one of the receptionists, who is not so friendly as she usually wants to show.
By the way, doesn't the big boss know that the hotel hires pupils from the School of Tourism during the summer? I wondered but said nothing, because I didn't want tempers to become frayed.
Sunday, 14th July 1985
Since there was not much work to be done at the reception this morning, a colleague asked me to do some filing. A few minutes later I was accosted by the personnel manager, a wayward guy who is always ready for a row. “Why are you doing here? This isn't your job!” he snapped out and snatched the customers' cards from my hands. I tried to contain myself but it was too hard. I burst into tears and ran to the toilet immediately, lest anyone should see me crying. However, when I got there, a chambermaid saw me tearing and she considered it good to preach me a sermon: “Woe is you if they find out how sensitive you are! They will make your life miserable!” she told me. That didn't comfort me at all, but I could see she was right.
From that moment on, a tormenting fear started to wring my heart, especially during working hours. I was constantly frightened at the thought that something would go wrong, that the others might form a negative opinion of me or, even worse, that my sensitivity would be known and everybody in the hotel would turn against me. It took me about a week to control myself, calm down and get rid of that phobia.
Monday, 29th July 1985
That weirdie of Zeta never stops trying to be clever, or criticizing me for everything. I can't stand her anymore. This morning, once again she started bragging about her great achievements: “When I finished high school, nine years ago, I left my family for good. They live in Edessa, and I haven't seen them ever since. I'm not like some mollycoddles, who never get any further than their mother's skirt!” (that was a hint about me: not only do I keep contact with my parents, but I also live with them) … “You go to bed at midnight? So early? What a milksop you are! I stay up and watch TV till three or four o'clock in the morning!” (admire me, I am a neurasthenic!) ... “You go swimming at the beach of Voula? That's only a ten-minute ride from your home!” (what a shame!) ... “I'm going to succeed in life, my ambitions soar high; not like you, who will always be a lowly-paid employee!” she burst out finally.
Alright, she was asking for it. I took a deep breath and started talking:
“Obviously, you think you are my superior here; let me remind you that in this hotel you and I are exactly in the same position! And you are five years older than me!”
That left her speechless for a while.
Tuesday, 20th August 1985
All day today Zeta kept on criticizing the way I dress: “Why do you always wear such clothes? Have you seen anyone else dress like you?”
“Of course I have! All women dress like me!” I snapped out. I usually wear dresses, or a blouse with a skirt or trousers. So? What's so bad about the way I dress? I wondered, rather irritated.
At that moment Kelly approached us with an enigmatic smile on her face; I didn't like that, because she always agrees with Zeta. The two of them walked away together, and talked in low voices for a few minutes; then they approached me again and installed themselves on my desk, in a most ostentatious manner. Next moment they started describing certain pieces of clothing they had, so as to excite my envy -they are crazy! That ridiculous bragging lasted about a quarter of an hour. I pretended I wasn't listening, as I was doing some paper work at that time...
Chapter 18: Running on Empty Again