Nous \u00e9tions en Gr\u00e8ce depuis plus de sept mois. Le mari ne s\u2019\u00e9tait toujours pas trouv\u00e9 d\u2019emploi. Il \u00e9tait rentr\u00e9 bredouille de son voyage en Allemagne.<\/p>\n
Je n\u2019ai jamais voulu \u00eatre un proph\u00e8te de malheur, mais j\u2019ose dire que tout ce qui est arriv\u00e9, je l\u2019avais pressenti. Un homme comme mon mari ne change pas en criant ciseau. Toute sa jeunesse, selon sa s\u0153ur Despina, il courait apr\u00e8s les plus belles filles du canton. Il les attrapait toutes parce qu\u2019il \u00e9tait lui aussi le plus beau Rom\u00e9o du village. Comme il a d\u00fb faire son service militaire, il est devenu encore plus attirant \u00e0 titre d\u2019officier de l\u2019arm\u00e9e de terre.<\/p>\n
Un peu apr\u00e8s notre mariage, ce Casanova m\u2019avait m\u00eame confi\u00e9 que l\u2019amour de sa vie \u00e9tait une certaine Helena, enseignante, m\u00e8re de deux enfants et \u00e9lue la plus belle femme de son village trois ann\u00e9es d\u2019affil\u00e9e. \u00c9tait-il all\u00e9 la visiter durant notre s\u00e9jour? Lui avait-il parl\u00e9 une fois, deux fois, trois fois? Je n\u2019ai pu me retenir et j\u2019ai demand\u00e9 \u00e0 ma belle-s\u0153ur Despina si mon mari avait visit\u00e9 son ancienne flamme depuis notre arriv\u00e9e. Elle m\u2019a r\u00e9pondu qu\u2019il l\u2019avait effectivement vue, \u00ab\u00a0mais seulement deux fois puisque son mari, Theodoros, \u00e9tait encore jaloux de lui comme un tigre\u00a0\u00bb.<\/p>\n
Le mari avait certainement oubli\u00e9 de me le dire. De toute fa\u00e7on, il ne m\u2019avait rien dit depuis son retour de Cologne. Qu\u2019avait-il fait l\u00e0-bas pendant trois semaines? Avait-il trouv\u00e9 des opportunit\u00e9s de travail? J\u2019en doutais. Un kiosque \u00e0 pizza ou \u00e0 souvlaki \u00e0 g\u00e9rer? Contrema\u00eetre dans une manufacture? De toute fa\u00e7on, rien ne serait \u00e0 la hauteur de ses attentes. Allait-il finalement me dire comment nous allions vivre avec deux vieilles femmes et trois enfants \u00e0 la maison?<\/p>\n
Il n\u2019y avait pas d\u2019\u00e9cole anglaise ni fran\u00e7aise \u00e0 Krya Vrysi et les deux plus vieux ne faisaient que baragouiner le grec. De toute fa\u00e7on, le mari avait-il encore l\u2019id\u00e9e de rester en Gr\u00e8ce? Ses blanches mains n\u2019iraient certainement pas aider les gitans \u00e0 r\u00e9colter le coton. J\u2019\u00e9tais au bout du rouleau, moralement \u00e9puis\u00e9e, d\u00e9courag\u00e9e, bris\u00e9e et totalement d\u00e9\u00e7ue. Bient\u00f4t, j\u2019allais devoir vendre quelque chose pour acheter des chemisettes au tout petit qui grandissait. Mon alliance, peut-\u00eatre? De toute mani\u00e8re, je ne voulais plus la porter. J\u2019essayai de me calmer au lieu de pleurer. Je pris le tout petit dans mes bras et le ber\u00e7ai dans la chambre du haut. L\u2019enfant gazouilla et s\u2019endormit. Le temps froid et pluvieux me donnait le cafard. \u00c9tait-ce le bon moment pour parler de notre avenir au mari? Dormait-il encore?<\/p>\n
Finalement, ce fut sa m\u00e8re qui parla la premi\u00e8re.
\n\u2014 \u00ab Yavrum\u00a0\u00bb (enfant ch\u00e9ri), la vie au village est de plus en plus difficile. Nous n\u2019avons pas assez d\u2019argent pour installer l\u2019eau courante ni le chauffage \u00e9lectrique. Quant au bois, m\u00eame Despina est trop vieille pour fendiller les b\u00fbches. Nous avons un trop grand jardin \u00e0 d\u00e9sherber. Comme nous avons bon c\u0153ur, nos l\u00e9gumes aboutissent g\u00e9n\u00e9ralement sur la table des voisins. Toutes les jeunes grand-m\u00e8res partent en Am\u00e9rique pour aider les enfants de leurs enfants. Et nous, nous voulons faire comme elles! Despina et moi voulons aller vivre en Am\u00e9rique. Tes deux fr\u00e8res y gagnent bien leur vie et ils nous aideront.\u00a0Yavrum, para calo (enfant ch\u00e9ri, s\u2019il te pla\u00eet), allons \u00e0 Montr\u00e9al au plus vite et Despina cuira un bel agneau pour f\u00eater nos retrouvailles, tous ensemble.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
Et moi, en bonne \u00e9pouse qu\u00e9b\u00e9coise que j\u2019\u00e9tais, je m\u2019empressai d\u2019ajouter que je cuisinerais mes sp\u00e9cialit\u00e9s grecques\u00a0: \u00ab\u00a0Je ferai des feuilles de vigne, ma traditionnelle soupe \u00ab\u00a0youvarlakia\u00a0\u00bb (soupe aux boulettes de viande et de riz dans une sauce aux \u0153ufs et citron), des feuillet\u00e9s aux \u00e9pinards, de d\u00e9licieux \u00ab\u00a0kourabiedes\u00a0\u00bb (biscuits aux amandes et au beurre) et des baklavas. La belle-s\u0153ur ne manqua pas de rench\u00e9rir elle aussi en disant qu\u2019elle serait tr\u00e8s heureuse de garder mes petits.<\/p>\n
L\u2019homme muet grilla une cigarette apr\u00e8s l\u2019autre jusqu\u2019\u00e0 ce que sa m\u00e8re et sa s\u0153ur arr\u00eatent de parler. Moi, comme la femme de Loth, je me suis transform\u00e9e en statue de sel. Le yavrum \u00e0 sa maman allait-il \u00eatre d\u2019accord pour retourner au Canada? Mes yeux se mouillaient, mon c\u0153ur s\u2019affolait, tandis que le ciel l\u00e0-haut devenait mauve et empli de beaut\u00e9. Le bonheur serait-il un coup de chance? Un \u00e9tat qui nous tomberait dessus sans crier gare? Je me souviens de cette citation de Goethe apprise au coll\u00e8ge\u00a0: \u00ab\u00a0Le plus pur bonheur du monde renferme un pressentiment de souffrance\u00a0\u00bb.<\/p>\n
Peut-\u00eatre qu\u2019en ce qui me concerne, la souffrance arriva la premi\u00e8re. Mais le bonheur, j\u2019essayais de m\u2019en convaincre, arriverait plus tard. J\u2019avais mal \u00e0 mes yeux, mal \u00e0 mon c\u0153ur et surtout mal \u00e0 mon intelligence. Je pensais \u00e0 tout ce \u00e0 quoi j\u2019avais d\u00fb renoncer\u00a0depuis notre union\u00a0: \u00e0 mes grandes \u00e9tudes, \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9criture que j\u2019aimais, \u00e0 ma famille, \u00e0 ma libert\u00e9 et \u00e0 ma propre gouverne. \u00c0 titre d\u2019\u00e9pouse de ce dieu grec, sous son joug, je n\u2019avais aucun droit, aucune autorit\u00e9, ni v\u00e9ritable amour, ni intimit\u00e9 valable, ni la capacit\u00e9 de d\u00e9cider de quoi que ce soit. \u00c0 quoi pourrais-je m\u2019accrocher? Ce mariage se transformait en un licou serr\u00e9, tellement serr\u00e9 qu\u2019il m\u2019emp\u00eachait de progresser.<\/p>\n
\u00c0 SUIVRE\u2026<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Nous \u00e9tions en Gr\u00e8ce depuis plus de sept mois. Le mari ne […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":51772,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-51767","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"We\u2019d been in Greece for more than seven months. Husband still hadn\u2019t found a job. He\u2019d come home empty-handed from his trip to Cologne.\r\n\r\nI never wanted to be a prophet of doom, but I dare say that I had a sense of what was coming. A man like Husband doesn\u2019t change easily. According to his sister Despina, he\u2019d spent his youthful years chasing the county\u2019s prettiest girls. The most handsome Romeo in the village, he of course caught them all. And after his mandatory military service, his seductive power only increased when he returned as an army officer.\r\n\r\nShortly after our wedding, this Casanova even told me that the love of his life was a certain Helena, a teacher and mother of two, who had the distinction of being elected the most beautiful woman in her village three years in a row. Had he visited her since our arrival in Greece? Had he spoken to her once, twice, three times? I couldn\u2019t help myself and asked my sister-in-law Despina if Husband had visited his old flame. She replied that yes, he had seen her, \u201cbut only twice because her husband Theodoros is still jealous of him like a tiger.\u201d\r\n\r\nHusband had certainly forgotten to tell me. In any case, he hadn\u2019t told me a thing since he\u2019d returned from Cologne. What had he done there for three weeks? Had he found job opportunities? Highly unlikely. A pizza or souvlaki counter? Maybe a foreman at a manufacturer? Nothing would be good enough for his standards. Would he finally explain to me how we were going to live with two old women and three kids at home?\r\n\r\nThere were no English or French schools in Krya Vrysi, and the two eldest ones barely spoke Greek. Did Husband really want to live in Greece? His clean hands would certainly not be dirtied helping the gypsies harvest cotton. I was at the end of my rope, morally exhausted, discouraged, broken and totally disappointed. Soon I\u2019d have to sell something to buy onesies for the baby who was growing quickly. My wedding ring, perhaps? I no longer wanted to wear it anyways. I tried to calm down instead of dissolving into tears. I took the little one in my arms and sat with him in a rocking chair in the room upstairs. He babbled away and then fell asleep. The cold, rainy weather put me in a blue mood. Was it the right time to speak to Husband about our future? Was he still asleep?\r\n\r\nIt was his mother who spoke first.\r\n\u2014 \u201cYavrum (or, my dear child), life in the village is more and more difficult. We don\u2019t have enough money to install running water or electric heat. And even Despina is getting too old to chop wood. We have a garden that\u2019s too big to weed ourselves. Our vegetables generally end up on the neighbour\u2019s table because we have a kind heart. All the grandmothers head to America to help their children with the grandkids. We want to do the same! Despina and I want to live in America. Your two brothers earn good money there and they\u2019ll help us. Yavrum, para calo (or, my dear child, please), let\u2019s go to Montreal as soon as possible and Despina will cook a nice lamb to celebrate our reunion, all of us together.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnd I, the good French Canadian wife, quickly added that I\u2019d cook my Greek specialties. \u201cI\u2019ll make stuffed vine leaves, my traditional yuvarlakia soup (meatball and rice soup in an egg and lemon sauce), spinach puff pastries, delicious kourabiedes (almond and butter cookies) and baklavas. My sister-in-law didn\u2019t miss her chance to go one further and said she\u2019d be delighted to babysit my children.\r\n\r\nHusband stayed silent and smoked one cigarette after the other until his mother and sister stopped speaking. I, like Lot\u2019s wife, transformed into a statue made of salt. Would mommy\u2019s sweet yavrum agree to go back to Canada? My eyes teared up, my heart beat faster and the sky turned a beautiful purple. Is happiness a stroke of luck, a state of being that falls into our lap without warning? I remembered the quote by Goethe I learned in college: \u201cThe highest happiness, the purest joys of life, wear out at last.\u201d\r\n\r\nLife saw fit to make me suffer; but happiness, I tried to convince myself, would surely come later. My eyes suffered, my heart suffered and even my intelligence suffered. I thought of everything I\u2019d had to give up since our wedding: my scholarly studies, the writing I loved so much, my family, my liberty and my own agency. As the wife of this Greek god, under his yoke, I had no rights, no authority, no love, no real intimacy and no right to decide anything. What could I hold onto? This marriage was like a halter that kept getting tighter and tighter, preventing me from moving forward.\r\n\r\nTO BE CONTINUED\u2026\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764\ufe0f"},"yoast_head":"\n