MAREBEAR

In December of 1999, I was getting on the long, yellow bus for my first trip away from home.  I was headed to Greek Camp, in what seemed to be a very faraway place.  When we finally arrived, I got my first taste of what it was like without my parents to help me.  I had to drag my luggage that weighed twice my weight up a giant dirt hill.  My mom had packed me a very large bag of special treats and when I went back down to retrieve them, they disappeared.  Being six years old and all alone for the first time I didn’t have the courage to report the theft.  At that point, I knew that camp food was my only option and based on my sister’s report, I wasn’t looking forward to it.  At the end of this long day, we were now getting ready for bed.  I was still filled with optimism, until it was lights out.  The image of my mom tucking me in filled my mind.  I missed her already.   I hadn’t even made it through the first day.  When the lights did go out, I could hear every leaf blow and every twig crack.  It was a long night, but at some point I must have fallen asleep because I woke up at seven a.m. to the sound of a bell.  I realized that it had been the longest night of my life because when I looked in the mirror, my eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circle around them.  I made it through the week, but not without realizing how much I love my home, my bed, and my parents.

The first Thanksgiving I remember was when I was 6 years old.  Thanksgiving was held at my house and all my family, came for this grand feast.  About sixty people showed up.  I remember that year, my mom was so busy and she stayed up all night to cook and prepare our house for the party.  I stayed up with her until eleven, but I passed out on the couch due to exhaustion.  When I woke up on Thanksgiving morning, I was mad at my mom for letting me fall asleep, but when I went downstairs, all was forgiven.  I quickly walked down stairs, and my bright eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.  The table was set in a way that couldn’t be expressed in words.  The living room was full of brown, yellow, and orange balloons and fun decorations.  My mom was busy rolling out pastry for pumpkin pie.  I was so excited.  I ran up to her and gave her a big, bear hug.  The day went by and the clock struck six and all my cousins arrived.  My heart began to pound in excitement for this grand dinner.  My father gave a celebratory toast and the feast began.  First, I filled my plate with turkey, then mashed potatoes, then corn, then ham, and finally the plate was so heavy that I had to go back to the table and begin to eat.  When the hot, moist turkey met my tongue I felt like I was in heaven.  I began to stuff my face with mashed potatoes, creamy corn, and juicy ham.  Each bite was better then the last.  For dessert I had fresh baked pumpkin pie and homemade English toffee.  Each year at Thanksgiving, I get to relive that favorite meal.

I am a Greek American Marlborough athlete who spends whatever little free time she has in the kitchen.  I come from a Greek family and therefore have spent all my life with the Greek community.  Like all good Greek Americans, I Greek dance, volunteer at Greek festivals, attend Greek school, play in the Greek Orthodox Youth Basketball League, and attend two weeks of Greek camp every summer.  Marlborough School is where I spend most of my waking time.  My favorite class at Marlborough is photography (English is definitely my second favorite!!!)  Photography allows me to express myself through the lens of camera.  Sometimes that is easier than communicating with words.

I may look small, but I am a powerful athlete.  Volleyball is my favorite sport.  I also play on the Marlborough basketball and softball teams.  Club volleyball also demands a lot of my time, but is well worth it.  It has helped me develop my skills and abilities.  Something that really defines me is my baking.  If I am not doing homework or playing sports, I am in the kitchen, baking for my advisory.  My favorite thing to bake is Funfetti cupcakes and my classmates love them.  I also have another specialty, known as “Candy Sushi.”  It is made with rice krispies, fruit roll ups, and licorice.  Overall I see my self a happy and successful teenager with a hopeful future.

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Silence is a bad choice when a voice is needed to help cure injustice or make positive changes in this world.  It is easy to sit back and wait for others to take the laboring oar, but the delay that results may come at a cost.  Silence truly does kill.  War is a bad thing.  The United States is currently involved in a war with Iraq over their weapons of mass destruction.  They have been in this war for many years and thousands of innocent people have died.  These weapons of mass destruction do not exist.  They were never found, yet the war goes on.  Many people in this world are against the war.  If everyone stood up and voiced their opinion, a change would occur.  Unfortunately, most people, including my parents, are waiting for the election to voice their opinions on the presidency and the war in Iraq.    The election is more than a year away and in the mean time, thousands of innocent people will die.  It makes me very sad when I hear about the war and innocent people dying.  I believe that if everyone stepped up and expressed their true opinion about the war, it would end.

          What a fun night!  A sleep over at my house with fifteen loud and crazy Marlborough girls.  We were all confined in one small area.  It was hard to hear or move.  The numerous sandals, heavy backpacks, and fluffy sleeping bags were stacked wall to wall just waiting for a trip and fall.  When we arrived at my house, a water balloon fight left us all drenched and freezing.  When we ran out of water balloons, we turned on the hose.  We drove the neighbors crazy, yelling and screaming.  We dried off when my mom called us in for appetizers.   We had tiropitas, pigs in a blanket, mozzarella sticks, cheese fondue and chicken.  Dinner consisted of a wonderful steak, baked potato (choice of toppings), and creamed corn.  For dessert, we had delicious chocolate fondue with strawberries and bananas and cherry cheesecake.  After dinner, we ran down stairs and played twister.  With 15 girls, twister was really hard to play.  Girls were stacked one on top of the other.  It was very hectic.  It was very loud.   The party was so much fun, I can’t wait to have another one.

The tremendous amount of white, grainy substance burns your feet as you tip toe across the uneven surface.  Towels are lined up as far as the eye can see.  The hot sweltering summer sun beats down on everything in its path.  The very sweet smell of coconut lotion fills the air in celebration of the first day of summer.  A light breeze sweeps across and whispers in the ear, “shhhhhh”.   A wet blue is rising to its highest point and then crashing to its lowest low.  The blue that starts at the end creates a soothing sound as it sways back and forth.  The complete feeling of total relaxation is shone through a big sigh.  Reaching with a foot to carefully feel, but jump back because it is freezing.   Walk back out until finding the perfect spot. Taking your summer book and an ice cold sprite, walk toward the umbrella.  Grab a chair and enjoy the rest of summer vacation at the beach.

                As Mollie, T, and I entered into the scary park, my knees were knocking because I did not know what to expect.  The moment we walked in the front gate, we knew the night was going to be full of frightening events.  We had monsters, goblins, and clowns with real chainsaws chasing us all around “Ghosttown.”  We finally reached our first maze.  The maze titled “Red Beard’s Revenge,” did not sound too frightening compared to the other mazes such as “13 Axe Murder Manor” or “The Asylum,” but boy was I wrong.  Pirates with knives were following us and jumping out of corners to scare us.  Every time we turned a corner, there was another scary figure just waiting for us.  We were three alone young girls and were the main target of torture all night.  We were so afraid of everything that was happening, but were having the time of our lives and even though we were the main targets of torture, it was a blast.  It sadly struck two and the park began to close down.  As sad as we were to leave, we were relieved that no more monsters would be chasing us.

I miss my Yiayia.  She was my sweet and loving grandmother.  She died when I was twelve and I can never, ever remember her saying a cross word to anyone.  When ever I went to her house, my favorite meal was always waiting for me.  Somaki ke tiraki which in English translates to toasted pita bread and melted feta cheese.  She always had a crystal sugar bowl filled with sugar cubes just waiting for me to fill my pockets with. My Yiayia’s house always smelled like home baked, warm chocolate chip cookies.   She lived in a small apartment building owned by her brother in one of first neighborhoods in Los Angeles.  The building used to be a mansion, but was converted into a four plex in the early 1900s.  She lived there from the time she came to the United States in 1964.  On a January morning, my Yiayia passed away.  The dark and gloomy night was becoming very depressing as I jumped into my car after volleyball practice.  My mom did not seem to be her chipper, normal self.  I didn’t bother to ask because I only thought that she had a tough day at work.  My car pulled up to my house and I immediately ran inside because I was cold and tired.  The hard, cold stairs creaked as I sprinted up them.  As I lay comfortably in my bed my mom walked in with a very mournful look about her.  I asked “Mommy is everything okay?”  She replied, “I am afraid not.”  I began to ponder on what could have happened.  Finally, after about two minutes of silence, she said to me, “Yiayia passed away this morning.”  I began sobbing.  I didn’t want to believe that my Yiayia, the person that meant the most to me in the world, was gone.