{"id":49914,"date":"2024-09-08T06:25:59","date_gmt":"2024-09-08T10:25:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/?p=49914"},"modified":"2026-06-24T10:28:43","modified_gmt":"2026-06-24T14:28:43","slug":"husbands-dream-my-nightmare-chapter-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/le-reve-du-mari-mon-cauchemar-chapitre-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Husband's dream, my nightmare - Chapter 1"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Dear readers,
I\u2019ve finally decided to pour my heart out. Over the next 10 weeks, starting September 8, I\u2019ll be sharing with you the almost year-long period in my life I lived in Greece. You\u2019ll relive with me the events that occurred in the poor and almost deserted village where we stayed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In winter 1972, without even consulting me, Husband had decided to go back to Greece. We\u2019d been married 5 years by then, had two kids, with a third one growing in my belly. I\u2019d have to leave my country, my language, my parents. My eldest would have to say his goodbyes to his kindergarten class. In those days, a man was king of his household, and a wife had no other choice but to obey\u2026in my marriage, at least. To take some of the sting out of this Greek tragedy, a few of my sisters-in-law secretly confided in me that they\u2019d been back to Greece one or twice themselves before finally settling down in Canada for good. Would I be subject to the same fate? I feared the worst.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few of Husband\u2019s friends helped carry five huge suitcases to the boat that would move our lives to another continent. Two more suitcases, filled with the essentials we needed to survive until our belongings made it safely to Greece, were coming with us by plane. My young boy and his sister laid at our feet and slept the entire way. With his head resting on the window, Husband smoked like a chimney. (Back then, of course, you could smoke onboard a plane.) He\u2019d ring the stewardess every minute for yet another coffee. Did he know that I was sad or upset? Did he notice my eyes filled with tears or my hands cradling the new baby in my belly?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d barely slept, but by the time the bright daylight stirred the passengers awake, it seemed like the giant metallic bird was already touching down on the tarmac. The kids woke up and were hungry. Sleepy Husband stretched out his long legs and got up. He called for a stewardess and insisted on a final coffee and snacks for the kids.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we got off the plane, I thought I\u2019d die from the heat. Still today, I wonder if the old Ellinikon Airport was air-conditioned back then. Everywhere in the large building, hot air assailed the passengers. Sweat was dripping down our foreheads, the kids were crying, Husband was impatient, smoking one cigarette after another and looking for his distant cousin who was supposed to meet us in the arrival area.
\u2014 \u201cWhat time is it?\u201d I asked Husband.
\u2014 \u201cI\u2019m thirsty!\u201d screamed the oldest.
\u2014 \u201cPee-pee!\u201d implored the youngest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My anxiety-riddled heart was racing. Would we be able to withstand such heat? Where would we live? In Athens, in Thessaloniki maybe, or elsewhere? Had Husband secured an apartment? A job? The kids were wailing, they were hot, they were hungry and they wanted to go home. When the cousin finally arrived, he grabbed the last two suitcases that were still going around in circles on the conveyor belt. Husband grabbed the oldest child and biggest travel bag. I was carrying a large bag myself filled with the kids\u2019 clothes and our essential items: passports, the little ones\u2019 Greek Orthodox baptismal certificates, the eldest\u2019s Quebec vaccination booklet and my baby girl, half asleep in my dripping-wet neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was almost noon when the cousin dropped us off at his mother\u2019s. The sound of the kids\u2019 complaining became a dull clamour the moment I lifted my head to look out the window. On the right, high up on the mythical mountain, I caught sight of the famous Parthenon, literally the \u201ctemple of the virgin\u201d and the physical symbol of Athenian supremacy in the Classical era. Astonishing! The old treasures I\u2019d studied in my youth were right before my very eyes. Everything suddenly came back to me, probably because I\u2019d been forced to memorize when the various monuments had been built, including the Acropolis of Athens, erected between 443 B.C. and 438 B.C. Husband couldn\u2019t care less about archeology. He introduced me to his aunt who\u2019d offered to take us in for as long as was needed. She also suggested we visit the Parthenon together on a few afternoons. Finally, something good was happening to me! My young heart was quivering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We slept in cramped quarters on a double bed with the two kids in the middle and the third one in my big belly. Whenever the kids moved around too much, Husband would move to the only couch in the house. His cousin had borrowed a convenient double stroller. Each day, I\u2019d take a walk with the kids to get us used to the hot climate. Shortening my dresses or wearing pants was out of the question, since Husband would never allow it. The aunt praised the classic Greek dishes I had already mastered, and I continued to develop my skills with her guidance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Entering my seventh month of pregnancy, I felt an urgency to query Husband about our future plans.
\u2014 \u201cWhere will we live?\u201d I asked in French.
\u2014 \u201cIn the village where I was born,\u201d he replied in English.
\u2014 \u201cIs it near here?\u201d
\u2014 \u201cNot at all.\u201d
\u2014 \u201cWhere is it?\u201d
\u2014 \u201cIn the north of Greece, about 70 kilometres from Thessaloniki. The village is called Krya Vrysi, that\u2019s where my mother and sister live.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Would the house be big enough for everybody, including the kids? The man of a few words seemed to have a plan in mind. Two days later, the cousin drove us to a bus terminal to go to Thessaloniki. The trip, I was informed, would take 5 hours and 45 minutes. Fortunately, the thoughtful aunt had prepared a basket full of food for us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The little one and her brother were cuddled against my inhabited belly. The maternal instinct put me on alert; I kept my eyes fixed on the old bus driver, who was driving like a madman. Sitting behind me, Husband was still smoking. I began feeling nauseous and turned my head towards him to ask him to open a window when suddenly things took a frightful turn. The bus had just veered sharply to avoid hitting a few sheep, and Husband saw that the bus was headed straight for a dump truck full of oranges.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

TO BE CONTINUED\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cora
\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Dear readers,I\u2019ve finally decided to pour my heart out. Over the next 10 weeks, starting September 8, I\u2019ll be sharing with you the almost year-long period in my life I lived in Greece. You\u2019ll relive with me the events that occurred in the poor and almost deserted village where we stayed. ——— In winter 1972, without even consulting me, Husband had decided to go back to Greece. We\u2019d been married 5\u00a0years by then, had two kids, with a third one growing in my belly. I\u2019d have to leave my country, my language, my parents. My eldest would have to say his goodbyes to his kindergarten class. In those days, a man was king of his household, and a wife had no other choice but to obey…in my marriage, at least. To take some of the sting out of this Greek tragedy, a few of my sisters-in-law secretly confided in me that they\u2019d been back to Greece one or twice themselves before finally settling down in Canada for good. Would I be subject to the same fate? I feared the worst. A few of Husband\u2019s friends helped carry five huge suitcases to the boat that would move our lives to another continent. Two more suitcases, filled with the essentials we needed to survive until our belongings made it safely to Greece, were coming with us by plane. My young boy and his sister laid at our feet and slept the entire way. With his head resting on the window, Husband smoked like a chimney. (Back then, of course, you could smoke onboard a plane.) He\u2019d ring the stewardess every minute for yet another coffee. Did he know that I was sad or upset? Did he notice my eyes filled with tears or my hands cradling the new baby in my belly?\u2026<\/p>","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":49915,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"Chapitre 1 : pendant 10 semaines, Mme Cora raconte un \u00e9pisode marquant de sa vie en Gr\u00e8ce avec son mari.","_seopress_robots_index":"","_seopress_robots_follow":"","_seopress_robots_imageindex":"","_seopress_robots_snippet":"","_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"","_seopress_robots_breadcrumbs":"","_seopress_robots_freeze_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_custom_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_canonical":"","_seopress_social_fb_title":"","_seopress_social_fb_desc":"","_seopress_social_fb_img":"","_seopress_social_fb_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_height":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_title":"","_seopress_social_twitter_desc":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_height":0,"_seopress_redirections_value":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled_regex":"","_seopress_redirections_logged_status":"","_seopress_redirections_param":"","_seopress_redirections_type":0,"_seopress_analysis_target_kw":"","_seopress_news_disabled":"","_seopress_video_disabled":"","_seopress_video":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas_manual":[],"_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable_all":"","_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas":[],"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"class_list":["post-49914","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":8}},"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49914","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/414"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=49914"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49914\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/49915"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=49914"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chezcora.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=49914"}],"curies":[{"name":"WP","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}