In 1923 the new country of
Turkey had been created. Greeks living there were expelled as they were no
longer welcome despite having lived side by side with the Turkish Muslims there
for generations.
The town of Levissi (Greek name) Kayakoy (Turkish name) is
now a ghost town following the 'repatriation' of the Greeks. Turks however did
not want to live there so the ruins have become a haunting reminder of this
forced Diaspora of people.
Last Day
The guitars have strummed all night,
not in lament but defiance. We will enjoy,
though our souls are being torn apart;
we will sing and dance, and not think.
The war had been hard and we'd lost,
lost far more than a war, and tomorrow
we will pay the price. The rhythms
grow faster, silhouettes swirl, people
burning away their hurt and pain with dancing.
Oozo is not enough.
Around us the buildings of our lives
have been emptied, packed, things chosen
rejected, re chosen, crammed in but
we can take only what we can carry.
Our pitiful packs cannot contain us, our
community,
our Greek lives in a country now called Turkey.
We are Greeks and tomorrow begins
our forced march to a land where
we will be known as Turks.
Our gardens will grow unkempt,
brambles choke and weeds devour them,
but inside ourselves, the flowers and herbs
will smell sweeter and bloom with greater joy
than ever reality could produce.
Now however, Deportation, is our truth.
