Aegina

I’m in Greece. I’ve been here for a week and like always I have this feeling of being at ease here. Like it’s geographically what fits my Icelandic-Egyptian soul. It’s somewhere in between. In many ways it reminds me of Egypt but there are also elements that evoke my year of living in Paris (one of the best years of my life), and it has mountains, sun and sea. I always miss the sea when I’m not in Iceland, so even though it’s a different type of sea, it’s still the sea.

It’s a complex sea, it gives and it takes. Takes countless lives of people trying to come to the fortress of Europe to search for a better life, fleeing countries we ultimately influenced the downfall of, with our consumerism or meddling in political affairs. I wonder how Europe will react to future Palestinian and Lebanese refugees who are fleeing bombs so obviously sponsored by the so called civilised western world.

I’m honestly getting fed up with people equating western with civilised. There is nothing civil about supporting the slaughtering of innocent civilians. Why can we call it barbaric only when one group commits crimes, but not barbaric when it’s done with sophisticated weapons and supported by a narrative that our medias eat up like ice cream on a hot summers day.

I don’t know. It doesn’t sound civil to me.

My Greek friends are worried about being so close. They hurt too, I’ve heard some say, as they feel very close to their neighbours across the Mediterranean. “This is hurting everyone, they say, and we don’t know what will happen next.” These countries have been interacting for thousands of years. Since before Iceland was even a name used for a piece of land.

Anyway, Greece is actually one of the few places in Europe where I often feel more welcome when I say I’m Egyptian vs I’m Icelandic. Well, usually Iceland brings a bit of intrigue but there’s less of a personal connection. They would like to visit but that’s usually where the conversation ends. Not to mention the countless times I’ve expressed that I don’t speak Greek (I’m trying to learn a little bit, sygnómi, it’s still bad) and people have responded “How come? You look Greek.” It’s nice to fit in somewhere.

The reaction when I say I’m also Egyptian is also most often unusually nice. In other European countries it’s Iceland that people connect with, although - the further north I am, the odds are they will not believe me when I say it. Recently, I had an encounter with a person from Northern Europe that looked at me rather suspiciously when I was explaining my background. I felt the stares through the conversation, even as I was looking at someone else. I felt that she honestly didn’t believe me when I was explaining that I was indeed Icelandic too. Like in so many instances once I mention Egypt, it’s as if people automatically assume then I must be an immigrant in Iceland. I always have to repeat more than once that my mom is Icelandic, from Iceland. Specially when around people who only converse with me in English.

This person added to my suspicion (of her being suspicious of me) by asking if I felt “culturally Icelandic”. I don’t know how to put it, but of course I do - I’m as Icelandic as anyone else - I just happen to also be Egyptian.

It’s a tiresome game of explaining in a polite way the nature of one’s existence. It’s delicate, trying to not sound annoyed the umpteenth time it happens, because you know the way you explain it will ultimately influence whether the person in question will find you acceptable or not. Perhaps a little too barbaric - or simply not Icelandic enough.

Then Greece, like I was saying, has usually been a refreshing difference from this relentless questioning. It’s as if most people I‘ve met here don’t automatically assume Egyptians are barbaric. I’m sure there are some Greek that do but I haven’t encountered them yet.

On my second day here I went to the island of Aegina. The first person I spoke to on the island was a guy doing boat tours to a nearby island. I wanted to see a smaller island and I had seen on Google that his tours were the only ones going.

I said hello and for a brief moment interacted with him and another tourist he was already talking to.

“Where are you from?” He asked me. I was feeling happy so I told him to guess. He laughed and said that he would probably have the same luck as with the other tourist (I guess he didn’t guess her background correctly). So I explained.

Well, turns out he was born in Egypt. He was so happy. Started speaking with me in Arabic which he obviously spoke better than me. Kept calling me habibty in this very friendly, old man kinda way. I told him I was living in Iceland and he told me he grew up in Egypt before moving back to Greece.

The interaction was really friendly and although it was too windy to book any tours with him that day he gave me suggestions on places to eat and what to see in Aegina. He was wonderfully helpful.

I walked around a bit more and at some point walked past the little booth he had at the harbour and saw some people in the middle of a (semi) argument with him. I had spotted them on the boat and I had gotten a feeling they felt a little bit above the locals. Can’t really explain it except in the way they were behaving and sneering.

The argument stemmed from them not believing him when he said he couldn’t take them on a tour because it was too windy. The guy asked to see his manager. He said

“I’m the captain, I own the boat.”

I laughed, because just before that we had shared this nice interaction. I thought to myself, who left a better impression on the local guy here. The barbaric mixed race Arab or the people from the “civilised” world who thought they could buy off an experienced sailor to see a piece of land they are privileged to be able to visit in all cases.

That’s all for now. I’m going to drink my tea and look up at the rain. Athens needed that. I’m glad.

I wish the rain would bring us peace.