Wednesday, 14th November 1973
I'm in the fifth class now, I am growing older and taller and my problems grow bigger too. And the worst of all: Two months ago I had my first period! I am only ten years old, I still feel like a child, my body is absolutely childlike, yet I menstruate!
I still play on the road and go to the playground, but the persistent admonitions of the adults spoil all the fun: “You must not go to the playground ever again, you are a woman now!” … “Don't run like this, you are a lady now!” … “You are so tall, you must be over eighteen, and you still play with the little ones?” someone told me this afternoon, while I was on a swing.
Tuesday, 20th November 1973
This morning we went on a school treat to the mountain. When I got bored of wandering alone, I asked to play “the apples” with a group of many children. They didn't refuse at once, however it soon became clear that there was a player too many. Somebody had to leave the game, but who?
“Yvonne!” they all shouted in unison, pointing at me aggressively.
Only Christina raised a mild objection: “Not Yvonne, why?...” but she shut up quickly, as she saw that the others were glaring at her.
Fortunately, right at that moment another pupil came and joined us, so I wasn't obliged to leave -although the team that had to include me was not very happy about it. Anyway, I must admit I'm not so good at this game, since I am a little sluggish. The rival team always leaves me last for the ten final rounds; I rarely manage to finish them without being hit with the ball.
Friday, 18th January, 1974
This year our teacher is Mr Kakoyannis, a podgy obnoxious man who doesn't seem to like me at all. He always scolds me or whacks me with the ruler, usually for no reason. This morning, during the history lesson, I unconsciously started playing with a piece of paper, making a characteristic sound that could be heard all around. Suddenly, the teacher's eyes almost popped out in anger and he roared: “Who is doing this? I will put it her mouth!” All the children burst out laughing. I was embarrassed and stopped at once, but I didn't avoid being thwacked with the ruler.
Saturday, 23rd February 1974
I hate physical education. It's the most thankless and boring lesson. This time, the teacher made us do a very stupid exercise: We sat down, fixed our hands back on the ground and stretched out the whole body, while the head should be falling back. “Throw your head back! Back I said!” Mr Kakoyannis screamed, but I had no idea he meant me, although I was the only pupil who hadn't thrown the head back. “Just look at her, isn't she like a viper!” he roared and ran towards me furious.
Before I could react anyhow, he grabbed my head in his two hands and pushed it violently down, with all his strength. I heard a terrible “crack” and my neck ached incredibly. I started crying immediately, for fear I had just broken something, and I didn't dare move.
While this was happening, my mother happened to be in the schoolyard. She had come to ask the teacher about me, and she was waiting for the gymnastics lesson to finish. She saw everything but didn't react at all...
Tuesday, 12th March 1974
As we have recently been informed by the teacher, a Pan-European painting contest has been organized for children of the fifth and sixth grade and I decided to participate. It took me three afternoons to paint my picture on cardboard and today is the day I must submit it.
I feel satisfied about my work: I have painted a girl and a boy playing volleyball in a country field. I have left the vast sky uncoloured but I think my painting is not at all bad for an eleven-year-old child. However, when I arrived at school this morning, my enthusiasm began to wane as soon as I found out something peculiar: Many children, about whom I didn't even know they can paint, had brought amazing paintings made with great detail and wonderful colour combinations -as if they were professional painters!
When we entered the classroom, the teacher called us one by one and asked to see our works of art before giving his approval for participation in the contest. As soon as I showed him mine, he frowned and shouted: “It's half-coloured! Take it back!”. I ran to my desk at once and spent the rest of the hour colouring the vast sky in a frenzy. The blue pencil marks looked rather sloppy on the smooth cardboard.
Once the bell rang for the first break, Marina (the prodigy of the class, she paints very well too), gathered all the paintings except mine and set out for the teachers' office. If she arrived there before me, it would be too late: The teacher had said that all paintings should be submitted in class; he wasn't going to accept any others in his office. Working frantically, I finished my work and rushed to the stairs looking for Marina. I had to climb down a torrent of children and fight with some of them in order to reach her in time, but I finally made it.
Strange, however: I was the only one in the whole school who had to struggle so hard in order to take part in the contest. All the other paintings were accepted without any problem, although some of them didn't meet the requirements: We were allowed to use only pencil colours on cardboard, but many participants had used water colours, temperas, oil colours on canvas, and who knows what else. Yet, none of these works was rejected as inappropriate. On the contrary, one of them even got a prize: it was an oil painting of a girl by a waterfall, fine but not anything amazing...
Saturday, 23rd March 1974
Some of my classmates, like Nora, Anna, Mary and others, are almost fully developed women. They already have the right curves and they also flirt boys, which makes them even more popular and puts them higher in the class hierarchy. I, on the other hand, keep growing taller and thinner: I am 1.62 m tall now but no heavier than 40 kilos. Moreover, everybody agrees that I am very ungraceful.
As a result, there is a general outcry against me: “You look like a telegraph post!” … “You are as thin as a rake!” … “You look like a skeleton!” … “You walk too fast and you jump up and down, like a stork!” … “You can't talk, you gibber!” … “The giraffe is coming! Come and see the giraffe!”
“Hey, you, do you still go to elementary school?” an unknown woman asked me, as I was going to school this morning.
“No, I go to the kindergarten”, I answered.
Thursday, 4th April 1974
Almost every afternoon I meet my old friends in the street, but this year my best friend is Angie. She is a new neighbour, with whom I get along very well. We have great fun together, when we play hopscotch or rackets, for hours every day.
Today, however, Angie and the others were nowhere to find, so I agreed to play dice with two neighbours and classmates of mine: Theodore and Alex (cunning foxes, both). The prize for the winner would be twenty old comics. I felt really surprised when, after a lot of playing time, fortune seemed to be smiling at me. Little by little, I finally won all the magazines -to the boys' great disappointment.
Friday, 5th April 1974
This evening, Theodore and Alex appeared in my yard unexpectedly and they suggested we should dice those comics again. I wondered about their further relish for dice but I said yes, taking into account my good luck of yesterday.
What a strange thing, though: Right from the beginning, it was impossible for me to win anything -in contrast to the other two, who kept throwing double sixes exclusively! As time passed, I kept losing more and more magazines. I hoped in a positive twist of fate but in vain: Before even realizing it, I had lost all my comics!
I am really bewildered, since I don't know how to explain that mystery: I managed to beat them yesterday, but certainly not with double sixes exclusively! So, what went wrong this time? Had they done something to the dice maybe? Were they using a magnet or what? But how? I can't say I noticed anything suspicious during the game...
Wednesday, 24th April 1974
A new nightmare has come in my life: It is a very ugly boy of my age, with an unnaturally red face, who seems to dislike me a lot. His family has recently moved to an outhouse, only three building blocks away from from my neighbourhood.
This afternoon, while I was going
to the baker's, he and that cow of his sister happened to see me. They were in their backyard, pretty far from me, yet they began pointing at me, screaming hysterically: “Aaaaah! Look how she walks! Hey, you camel! Ha ha haaaa!” The cow started walking with huge steps, in a caricature manner, and both siblings kept laughing at me. I just walked away hastily.
Tuesday, 28th May 1974
Unfortunately, the above psychopath has eventually learned my name. So, whenever I see him or any of his friends, they start screaming my name sarcastically, right in the middle of the road -just like they did early this morning, while I was going to school: “Yvonne! You giraaaaafe! You cameeeel! I'm talking to you, bloody loseeeer!”. I hastened my steps and disappeared from their sight.
In the evening I met Urania and went for a walk together. Suddenly, I heard a nasty crowing voice yelling my name again and again derisively. No doubt, it was him again. I pretended I heard nothing but Urania paused right there, turned round and shouted to him stern:
“What's wrong, Vlassis? Why are you screaming?”
“I'm just calling a name!” he answered mockingly.
“Stop calling this name!” she ordered him and then we walked away quietly.
I was impressed that Vlassis shut up immediately and that my friend knew his name.
“You never talk back, they make fun of you and you never say anything, that's why such things happen to you!” Urania admonished me. Of course, she has never faced similar problems.
Tuesday, 2nd July 1974
Jasmine is growing up, she is already two years old but she can neither sit nor lift her head. She looks like a four-month-old baby. The only thing she does, is smile sweetly when we talk to her. She is still very beautiful.
This morning we paid a visit to my mother's relatives in Piraeus. My cousin Diamanta, who is a year older than me, thinks she is a lady now and she doesn't fancy playing any more. In fact, she barely talks to me. As a result, I feel very bored whenever we visit her family.
At a moment, I took Jasmine and went upstairs, to the attic. I found Billy there, who is Diamanta's nine-year-old brother and a regular jack-in-the-box. He never stops screaming and jumping around, often giving the impression that he can't control his movements. He never rests, not even in his sleep; almost every night he falls off his bed.
After I had made myself comfortable in an armchair, with the disabled child in my lap, cousin Billy grabbed a big cushion and threw it at Jasmine. The baby laughed nonsensi-cally, and Billy repeated the offense again and again. Jasmine kept on laughing, actually having fun.
I, as usual, thought I should show humour and adaptability, by taking the whole thing as a joke. Before long, Billy started throwing the cushion more and more violently, until Jasmine burst into crying. Billy was laughing foolishly and kept on attacking the infant, who was crying frightened. Finally, I realized that the “joke” wasn't going to end soon, so I got up and left, with Jasmine in my arms, while Billy was wondering why.
Saturday, 6th July 1974
Almost every afternoon I go to the playground, where I have fun on the swings for hours. Anyway, I don't go there only for that. I have singled out a very handsome boy of my age, whose name is Chris. He is thin and lissom, with a clear white skin and black curly hair. As soon as he arrives with his friends, I run and sit on the next swing. I never have enough of watching and admiring him, as he rises very high and then jumps down, surprising everybody with his agility and boldness. He never pays any attention to me, sometimes I even have the impression that he laughs at me. I don't care, though; just seeing him every day at the swings, is enough to make me happy.
Sunday, 21st July 1974
We have been on vacation to Cefallonia for a week now. This morning I became a godmother to Jenny and Niki's little brother, who is only five months old. The sacrament took place in the church of St Gerasimos. I named the boy Vicenzo.
Initially, aunt Domna had wanted my mother to be a godmother to the baby, but mum refused because she would like to have a goddaughter rather than a godson. So, it was decided that I was the one who should do this job.
Anyway, I think it was a strange christening: Apart from my cousin Annita, there were no other guests present, although we have many relatives in Lixouri and the nearby villages. There was not even a photographer -which is quite odd, taking into account that this was the baptism of the long-desired male successor to the Fezarris family.
Chapter 7: Class F Junior