EXPLORING MY ROOTS - EPILOGUE

When I woke up in Samarina,  the sun was shining, and the sky was bright blue.   Where did yesterday's fog go, I wondered. Then it hit me.  Turning to Bruce, I said, "You know what that thick fog was about, don't you?"   Not giving him a second to answer,  I continued, "It's all because of my Mother.  She made it happen."  There was no doubt in my mind that my Mother was responsible for the fog we encountered yesterday because she wanted to make sure our trip to the high mountain village of Samarina was as dangerous and as difficult as it had been for her all those many years ago.  That's why she told me I could only go to Samarina in August because the snow would be gone by then.   Since there was no snow on our trip in May, like there had been in her day, she created the fog.   I couldn't wait to share my insights with Susan and Maddy.   "Oh, you are absolutely right," Susan said, and although Maddy never knew her great grandmother, she'd heard enough stories, so she agreed too.  You see that's the way Lucia Perkins was.  A little bit Miss Smartypants, a little bit Miss Vindictive, and a lot of Miss I-Told-You-So.   We all had a good laugh, but knowing that Lucia and Nick were along for the ride kept us smiling all day.  

LUCIA PERKINS, 1986

After a good night's sleep in Likos' almost-new hotel and an unusual breakfast of a thick creamy rice soup,  the four of us climbed in the red jeep, and with Likos as our chauffeur, we set off to explore the town.   The best way to describe our morning in Samarina is to call it a love fest with strangers.  To all the people we met, we were the Pispirikos girls (poor Bruce), and we had our introductory letter that my cousin wrote in Greek to back us up.  In some instances, we produced the family photos, and even though no one knew us, there were a lot of oohs and ahhhs and even more hugging and kissing.  To the Samarina villagers, we were their long-lost Vlach-American kissing cousins.

SOUP FOR BREAKFAST?

SUSAN TALKING WITH 86-YEAR-OLD ALEXANDRA WHO REMEMBERED MY PARENTS WHEN THEY WOULD COME TO SAMARINA TO  VISIT

 That morning we had an experience that can only be called one of those six degrees of separation things.  Here's what happened.  While having coffee in the platia (plaza) in front of Likos's restaurant, we met Zisis Davaras, who spoke pretty good English.  He overheard us talking, so he pulled up his chair next to ours and asked if we were from the United States.  "I have a second cousin who lives in Haverhill, Massachusetts," he said.  "Perhaps you know him."  Under different circumstances, I would have politely laughed and said No, the United States is a big country, and we live in California, thousands of miles away, blah, blah, blah.   But this time I told him my parents lived in New Hampshire, and they had many Vlach friends who lived in Haverhill.     "His name is Mike Valhoulis," Zisis said.  "Do you know him?"  "Mike Valhoulis," I shrieked.  Really, Mike Valhoulis?"  I was shocked.  "Of course, we know Mike Valhoulis.  He and his family were very close friends with my Mom and Dad, and I knew him too--a long time ago."  

DRINKING COFFEE IN THE PLATIA WITH ZISIS AND LIKOS'S BROTHER

LIKOS AND ZISIS DAVARAS READING OUR LETTER OF INTRODUCTION

(L-R)  ZISIS, MADDY, SUSAN, BRUCE & LIKOS'S BROTHER

  When Zisis heard my reply, he reached for his cell phone and punched in the number for Mike Valhoulis in Massachusetts, and lucky for us, Mike answered.  In Greek or most likely in the Vlach language, Zisis asked Mike,  "Do you know the Pispirikos family from New Hampshire?"  "Of course, I do," Mike replied.  "Well, there are three members of the Pispirikos family here with me in Samarina right now."  Then Zisis handed me the phone.   For the next ten minutes, we had a reunion with Mike, catching up on our lives, as Susan and I passed the phone back and forth between us.   Mike not only knew my parents well, but also my brother, who is Susan's father and Maddy's grandfather.   

ZISIS CALLING MIKE VALHOULIS IN MASSACHUSETTS

HELLO,  IS THIS MIKE?

AFTER OUR TRIP I SENT MIKE VALHOULIS THIS PICTURE MADDY TOOK OF SAMARINA

This small world story will underscore something that most of my close friends already know about me:  I have six degrees of separation and small world encounters often.  Some of the stories might make an interesting post, but until that time, I will tell you one more that relates to this Samarina story.  

A few months ago I went to see a new doctor about my sore shoulder.  He was a young guy with a long name that ended in "ouros," so, of course, he was Greek.  We took a few minutes to exchange details about our roots, and although his family was from the south, he was familiar with the village names of Samarina and Vouvusa because he thought that his in-laws' family may have come from there.  He gave me their email address and encouraged me to contact them.  In an email reply from his aunt, I learned that her parents were from Samarina and Vouvusa (formerly Biasa) too, and that their best friends in Haverhill, Massachusetts were the Valhoulis.  

GOOD-BYE SAMARINA

So, that's the story of reconnecting with my Vlach heritage.  A few days ago I was with a friend who had read the first installment of my "roots" blog, and I was touched when she said, "Your blog made me realize that I too have a tribal heritage."    I guess in some way we all do.