Wherever I have lived in the world I have always looked for Greek connections within that country. These were sometimes surprising, sometimes touching and always welcome. From the many children in East Africa who were named Makarios, to the incomparable Mr and Mrs Constantinou who ran the Fish and Chips shop in College Road,Liverpool – the boys, young at the time, would bemoan the fact that their mum and dad did not own a fish and chip shop for them to have hot chips everyday. These hard working people were responsible for organising the Greek school to which I literally dragged my kids to. Yes I know, Big Fat Greek Wedding deja vu here. There followed the patient and very expensive Mr Costalot in Geneva who attempted to teach them basic Greek.

We abandoned the Greek lessons after that. India proved more challenging. Other exciting doors opened following the more exotic trails of Alexander the Great as he conquered large swathes of the Indian subcontinent. Seeing the Greek influences in the architecture and statues was eye opening.

But it took Australia to connect me closely and knowingly with my Greek heritage. Here the community which numbers some 35,000 have clung onto their heritage with determination and pride and I have been pleasantly surprised to find myself in amongst them, though knowingly never a part of them.

Growing up was bereft of those connections, my father having chosen an English education for me. Perhaps he was thinking of the future and enabling more doors to open for me, and for that I will always be grateful.

Luckily for me however I had two sisters in the Greek Education system and they simply took me along to whatever they were experiencing. So I became familiar with Cavafy and his works, and the music of Mikis Theodorakis and Manos Hadjidakis. I know the words and find the music rousing – yet many here have barely heard it. So bringing it to Brisbane be it in concerts or sung in Community choirs is a joy and a blessing which I did not expect.

And then delving into the history and the customs gives me an added dimension. Why is this important – well because I can see far more easily now how my upbringing, tradition and culture have connected me to my heritage and I would like to pass that onto my boys so they too can feel that connection. As for the food and taste, I could smell the souvla as I walked up the road to the Paniyiri. I craved a good spanakopitta and some koupes.

When I first arrived here I suggested to the boys that they should take up Greek Dancing. They laughed but I can see how young people here bond over them and take pride wearing their costumes. I have two left feet so I wont be doing that, but it’s lovely to see people in the community here like Soula Drakopoulos who is passionate about it. She has taken traditional Greek dancing and modernised it into an energetic exercise class. Tom, her husband is our guiding light and inspiration in the Cultural Committee and now we have the Community Choir where the pensioners are engaged with it as much as the little primary school pupils.

The Paniyri was a great success this year, the Cultural Exhibition and Time line celebrating its 50 years was illuminating and touching. The Kids Zone buzzed with activity and the talks, though drowned out a little by the chatter, were delivered with care and commitment by lovers of Hellenism.

The festivities are over for another year. I was heading home, exhausted after a full day, and as I was walking down the stairs I heard a mum say :

“Κανει ψυχρα εξω, θα κρυωσεις, παρε τη ζακετα σου”.

“Its cool out there, you will catch cold, take your jacket” to her very mature son.

Somethings never change and for that I am smiling.