STRASBOURG – MISSION. In its unique Greek Orthodox Church Biswiler, a city about 50 kilometers from Strasbourg, three women meet for coffee in a small room next to the shrine. It is filled with maps of Greece and posters of historical Greek figures such as Laskarina Bouboulina and Palaion of Patras Germanos, where their children learned Greek. The central table is dominated by a black and white photograph, which says “Tenedos” (Tenedos), their island, where they were born and lived until there was no life left for them. Under this photo speak in “K” how, about half a century ago, they ended up in this French town and, together with other compatriots, founded the Tenedian community of Biswiller.

63 year old Friday Marago arrived in Strasbourg in May 1968. “We arrived by the last train on May 6, then there were strikes for a month,” refers to “K”. The person who created the community in Biswiler is her brother Kostas, who left Tenedos in 1963. He was unable to find work on the island. He left Istanbul on foot, and when he arrived in Strasbourg for Christmas, his shoes were punctured – “he wore cardboard to walk,” says Ms Maragu. He asked at the bakery if they were looking for tailors somewhere. Yes, they told him, in a textile factory, and that’s how Costas Maragos ended up in Biswiler. A little later, his father and brother followed him. In the summer of 1964, a law was passed in Turkey banning the teaching of Greek in Imbro and to Tenedo, prompting the other Romans of Tenedos to look for ways to leave. When they raised enough money to send tickets to the rest of the Maraghu family, Paraskevi, her five siblings, and their mother immigrated to Biswiler. “We took a suitcase and came here,” says Mrs. Maragu, “we left the rest.”

Estates for a ticket

“We sold all the estates for a ticket,” says Vasiliki Karveli, 69. When he left Tenedo, he was 21 years old. “Since 64, we have not had Greek schools, and we were told: “Don’t speak Greek, speak Turkish”, in our house we spoke only Greek – I went to a Turkish school, he says, and never spoke Turkish again.” She came to Biswiler with her husband in 1974 — “we wanted to leave as soon as possible, to go somewhere to avoid war,” she says, explaining that after the Turkish invasion of Cyprus, it became difficult for the Greeks of Tenedou. “The Turks shouted ‘we will kill you’,” he recalls, although he emphasizes that not all of them, many were friends. But her 24-year-old husband also faced another problem – “he received a letter to join the Turkish army as an infantryman,” says Ms. Karveli, “he was told that although he is a Christian, if necessary, he would have to fight.”

At first they tried to immigrate to Greece, but the consulate refused to issue them a visa. “They said that if we leave, we will lose the rights to two islands,” he notes bitterly. And so they, too, came to Biswiler, where the Maraghu family over the years attracted other friends and acquaintances, with the help of which her husband found work as a builder. When they got their visa from the Greek consulate in Strasbourg, they thought about moving to Greece. “But we didn’t have anyone there, so we stayed to work here,” he says. They learned French little by little, by experience. When her son went to French school, she asked her to check his spelling. Mrs. Carveli could not help him, but she learned by reading with him.

Bitter silence

“I did not live long with my people, but who lived?” No one,” emphasizes a member of the community.

Georgia Liberio, 67, immigrated in 1971. I ask her if she wanted to come to Biswiler. — I wanted to come, Vasiliki? she asks her compatriot in two homelands, before explaining that there was no other choice, especially for a woman. “What would my mother do with us three children? Women in Tenedo didn’t work,” he says, “living either at the expense of their parents or at the expense of their husbands. She married a Tenedian who had already moved to Biswiler in ’69 and returned to the island only to marry her and take her with him. “I didn’t live long with my family,” he adds, “but who lived? You do.” Her words are followed by a bitter silence. Because here, in this Alsatian town, on the border of France and Germany, lives a community that has lived without a homeland.

Ms. Karveli saw her brother, who had immigrated to Australia in 1973, again in 2007 – they met for the first time after 34 years at the train station in Strasbourg. When she came to pick him up, they walked past each other. They didn’t recognize each other. “In the beginning, we had nothing to say,” he notes, after two separate lives. “I got married and he wasn’t there, he got married and I wasn’t there, we didn’t meet our niece, we were deprived of all that,” he says.

Speaking of Tenedo, Ms. Maraghou, who left the island when she was 9 years old, went to a French school in Biswiler and started a family with a Frenchman, emphasizes that for her the island is her roots, her homeland is France. For Ms Liberio and Ms Carveli, however, Tenedos is more than just roots. He wasn’t even wrong. Tenedos – sadness. “Good luck to France,” says Ms. Carveli, “she gave us jobs, she gave us houses.” “But,” she continues in a cracked voice, “we didn’t have mother’s hands.” Her mother now lives in Athens – “every time she picks up and tells me, ‘Come and see all three of you before I die’, her children, her grandchildren, my mother was not happy.” “It may have been 48 years,” he adds, “but hearts still ache.”

Greek school

in Strasbourg “K” meets former Professor of Modern Greek Studies at the University of Strasbourg Star of Argyriouwho, among other things, helped the Tenedion community in Biswiler acquire a Greek school. “First there was a Greek school in Biswiler, then in Strasbourg, I was then an honorary consul, and my priority was that the children did not lose the Greek language,” he emphasizes. Until 2015, the school worked every Wednesday and Saturday, at one point it had up to 30 students. He also helped them obtain French citizenship. “They didn’t know who we were, Turks or Greeks, they called us Maragozoglu, Karveloglu, etc.,” says Ms. Maragu. “My father told the French to remove the -oglu ending, the name we were born with was Carpenter, they added -oglu to our last names to make them sound Turkish.” Mr. Argiriou claims that in the last rough record of the gypsies who arrived from the island in Biswiler, he counted more than 100 people. But, as Father Christos Filiotis, administrator of the parishes of Strasbourg and Biswiler, emphasizes, this is an “aging” community. “It couldn’t be restarted, especially after 2000 when factories in the area closed and some Greeks left for work reasons,” he says. Biswiller Parish, also home to many Turks, was founded by the Tenedians, he points out. “They built the parish themselves, they take care of it themselves, continuing the tradition that they had in Tenedo. There, their whole life was connected with their arrival, the same is true here,” says Father Christos, who comes to Biswiler for Mass every second Saturday. “Most of their children married French, but even their grandchildren are baptized Greek Orthodox, this is an element of spiritual connection with Greek culture, a reference to the Greek tradition,” he says.

“I didn’t know the place”

As for Tenedo, they go back and forth on vacation, but they have little to do with the island. “When we returned for the first time, there were more Turks, but we still had some of our own, we did not feel like strangers – then, when they also left, it was hard, you were driving and did not know anyone, all the doors were strangers “says Ms. Karveli. Ms. Maragu first returned to the island in 2015, 47 years after her departure. She had changed so much that she could not find her father. “I counted houses one by one to understand where ours was” . refers to “K”. And Mrs Liberio turns 51 this week in Biswiler. One day he thought about returning to Tenedos or even to Greece. Not anymore. “Motherland is now France”, says “K”. “Our joy,” adds Ms. Karveli, “is now here.”