A man reports that he continues to be interested in the current political situation in Greece.
G.Μ.: There is something that I’m going to tell you now, with that friend of mine, the journalist, who used to come regularly and now isn’t alive anymore. He used to come every Thursday and we were sitting together and discussing. So eh, one… one Thursday he came and I was somewhat sad. And he says to me “What’s wrong with you?”. “Ah!” I say. “I’m worried” I say. “Our Prime Minister has a heart condition and he had an operation in London and I don’t know what’s going to happen”. “No…” he says to me “… Bouchard is well”. It was back then when Bouchard had become ill and they cut off his leg because he had become ill…
RES.: Ah, yes! Yes!
G.Μ.: … with that famous illness that eats out the flesh. I say “Eddie, I’m not talking about Bouchard, I’m talking about Andreas Papandreou”. He stood up and rose to the ceiling. “My God!” says he “After forty-two years are you still your mind is in Greece!”. I say to him “Look! Greece is a beautiful homeland and I left at nineteen years old. I had a complete picture of what Greece means and I don’t forget”. “My kids” I say “Are Canadians, they are Quebecois here, but myself until I die, I’m going to remain Greek”. “He doesn’t change…” I say “The Greek. And you know what? He always longs to return back to his village, to his place, to his island, no matter… no matter how poor it might be, or how ugly it might be”. I say “Because there, even the stones and the bushes have their own smell”.
