We therefore paid a visit to the director of the YMCA School of Social Work to learn of the work being done quietly in the field of social welfare in Greece.
The YMCA School of Social Work was founded in 1948 in Kifissia, set up on international lines but adapted to the particular needs of Greece. Because of the lack of funds and the great need for workers in the field, the course initially lasted for one year. Almost from the beginning the School received assistance from the Fulbright Program in the form of financial aid and the supply of one or two teachers. In 1950 the course was increased to two years and in 1954, to three years. From this modest beginning it is now a recognized member of the International Association of Schools of Social Work, with its headquarters at Xenofondos 15a, near Constitution Square.
The present Director of the School is Mrs. Aspasia Kalloutsi, who was born in Athens and did part of her training at Pierce College. She then left for the United States and took a B.A. in Social Work at the University of Kentucky and a Masters in Social Work at the University of Columbia. She returned to Greece and worked in the field, eventually returning to university to take a Ph. D. at the University of Thessaloniki, submitting as her thesis: ‘The Problems of Identity in Adoption.’ For thirteen years she worked as a psychiatric social worker, before assuming her present position in 1968. Her thorough knowledge and understanding of the problems involved make her an excellent guide for the young trainee going out into the field.
The present school enrolls between 85 and 90 young people for a three-year course, and there seems to be no lack of candidates. Candidates must have a gymnasium diploma and be at least 18 years of age.
The first year is taken up with general studies, psychology, courses in social work, visits to institutions for the blind, the deaf, the mentally ill, the aged, and to refugees. Students work in small communities, observing and carrying out simple types of social work. Every summer they go out on field work; this summer they will be working in remote villages in Attica where they will be accommodated in village homes. Although very young, they are usually accepted by the communities in which they work. Their activities include organizing small libraries and recreational activities for the community. A twenty-day field trip is also being planned to Crete.
Second-year students naturally become more professional and are introduced to the methodology of community organization. They work more regularly in the field and in organized agencies such as hospitals, social services and so on. Their main project for this summer will be studying the area of Eleusis to see how it functions as a totality, and to evaluate the effects of industrialization.
The third-year students continue with instruction in methodology and work in the field more extensively; their research project this year is: The aged who are deserted by their families in general hospitals. It is a sad fact that side by side with the general amelioration of living standards there is an equal deterioration in the concern of society for their aged, a problem known all over the world.
The Diploma received at the end of the three-year course is recognized internationally and equips the students for further studies abroad. Although opportunities are still very limited in Greece, these dedicated young people continue their studies, eventually returning to devote their energy, knowledge and sympathy to those of their Greek compatriots who are in need.
The cost of training these young people is very high as the student-teacher ratio is low. There is a chronic lack of funds which is unhappily the case in such fields of endeavour and the School Committee tries to organize fundraising activities. Individual donations are always welcome and the ^School recently received considerable help from a large commercial foundation, thus enabling them to set up two special units in two separate hospitals. Their latest campaign is to collect waste paper and if you have such and let them know, they will arrange to have it picked up.
There is still so much to be done, the work is so vast and so needed, that any help in any form is grist to the mill. Perhaps we should all consider what can be done to help.
Ms. Lysistrata
The Women’s Liberation Movement here vis typical of so many things in Athens: splendid acts of individual heroism but no organization. The position of women seems to have improved little since the days of Aristophanes. There have been rays of light, such as when Phryne appeared topless in court (and was forthwith acquitted of all impiety). There was, too, the magnificent Athenian, the Empress (and Saint) Irene, who blinded her son, and ruled in his stead. And, of course, the pearl of all her tribe, Teresa Makri, who turned down Lord Byron and went on to write the most popular Useful Phrase Book for Foreigners of its time. Fine women, indeed, but few.
All of this, we are glad to say, is now changing. ‘Revolution’ is brewing in Athens. It is perhaps the first revolution to have announced publicly its exact date of insurrection: 12 June at 6 p.m. Even the whereabouts of the central ‘cell’ was known: on the fourth floor of 10 Gladstone Street. There the members of the Revolutionary Committee worked out their master plan and gave interviews.
Their cache of arms consisted of paint-pots, cream-jars and eyebrow pencils, for the ‘master-brain’ of the revolution is the well-know beautician, Ms. Lambelette. Though she modestly accepts only the title of vice-president, she is a fanatical enemy of the male establishment. She speaks from the headquarters of the Revolution of Greek Housewives with raised voice, fiery eyes and her words are supported by war-cries from the suppressed housewives who surround her.
‘Do you know what at this minute the Greek housewife is ?’ she asks indignantly. ‘She is the most wronged, the most deprived class in this country.’ She is something between a discarded mistress and an unpaid housemaid. The Greek husband from Anatolia is the worst of the lot. He thinks he is a small pasha and treats his wife like a slave in his harem. He’s always saying things like, “Shut up! You don’t know, you’re just a woman.” or “I’m doing the talking and I want no opposition,” or “Stop having opinions and wash the dishes.”
‘I’m not exaggerating. What is the lot of this tortured serf? Up first in the morning, waiting on everybody, fixing the meals, bringing up the children, cleaning the house, the last to go to bed. Thanks for nothing. (3,000 divorces in Athens per year). What benefits accrue to her? No income. No support. No security. There she is, left hanging. Cleaning women have social security. They get a pension. But housewives have nothing when their husbands tire of them and the children leave home.
‘The first goal of the Committee of the 12th of June is to start a pension fund. Where will it come from? We propose a tax of 50 lepta on every movie ticket and one drachma on every bill at a taverna. Surely no one will turn down a meal or a film to let their old mothers suffer!’
‘It is a logical and just demand. The government must approve. Our other goals include a program to support sick housewives and the building of a clubhouse which will, of course, be banned to men. There we’ll rest and find ourselves, cure complexes and forge new plans to bring our men into line.
‘We wish to reassure the public,’ Ms Lambelette concluded, ‘that we will not deport our husbands on the day of our glorious revolution. We still need them somehow.’
Well! We were certainly relieved to read that last statement even though its validity is open to question. What, after all, would happen if the men were suddenly banished? The thousands of kafenia would have to close down, an entire female population would find themselves running about with glasses of cold water on plates with no one to deliver them to, and thousands of irons would sit idle with the departure of all the men’s shirts they norm ally press into stiff male pride. Nonetheless, the ladies are on the right track! Down with that old male chauvinist Gladstone! Long live the Street of the 12th of June!
Cricket sans Ginger-beer
Some fifteen years ago we dressed ourselves in our finest feather and with blue cornflowers in our hair sailed off to the Lords Cricket ground at the Oval for the Eton and Harrow match. The sun and the spectators shone, the latter more brightly with colourful birds of paradise, shining diamonds, heads swathed in fabulous creations, the men in morning suits and grey toppers. The teams were whiter than white — taking things very seriously on the hallowed cricket pitch — but the spectators far outshone the players in fame and glamour and offered a distraction. As a consequence nothing is remembered about the match and who was doing what to whom and why has remained a mystery.
It was not, therefore, devotion to cricket that took us out to Aghios Kosmas on a hot sunny day in mid-June. We were, as a matter of fact, tracking down a rumour that Corfu did not have exclusive claims to cricket in Greece and, more than that, that Athens has its own honest-to-goodness team.
The day was hot and the green was not green, but there they were, the stalwart gentlemen who make up ‘our’ team — The Commonwealth Cricket Club of Athens!
We took in the scene, holding back nostalgic tears. As we made our way over to the group of people gathered to watch the match our heart filled with pride and we mentally heard the crash of cymbals and a massed chorus singing Gilbert and Sullivan’s ‘Loudly Let the Trumpets Bray.’ We were at the second ‘Tan-tan-tara’ and its ‘zing boom’ was timed to the moment we took our seat.
Out cameraman focused a cautious eye on the ball and retreated to a safe distance where he took the precaution of attaching his telescopic lens for the purpose of recording the action.
Thus left alone we allowed ourselves a careful examination of our team and noted with pride that they looked charming and rakish in their red, cotton sun-hats. The competition, who had arrived by sea for the occasion, wore flamboyant designs tatooed on then-limbs. The visiting team was batting.
Without the distraction of those glamorous crowds back at Harrow, we decided there was no reason why we could not give all our attention to the game, and watched intently. It was immediately clear that one could state that the bowlers work more than the others: with leaping strides they send the ball hurling towards the defenseless batter who stands at the end of a short lonely strip of green. There was a great deal of action and at one point one red-hatter was seen sitting in the dust clutching a ball, which meant one batter was out. We were able to arrive at that conclusion because when the dust-sitter returned to his team he was greeted by smiles and clapping. Two more tatooed gentlemen were felled in the dust in no time at all, after which everyone strolled off the field.
Lots of ‘what-ho’s’ sailed around and the men, after having refreshed themselves, returned ready to do battle. We asked if they had been drinking ginger beer but were told that that is still exclusive to Corfu.
The home team took its place at the stump and the attackers moved in, but by that time our cameraman had run out of film and we had abandoned any hope of even grasping the intricacies of the game, and so we decided we would leave the gentlemen to sort themselves out on the huge athletic field while we collected some information on the Commonwealth Cricket Club.
The club was founded in 1948 and has been active ever since. They plan their programmes a year in advance except for unexpected matches such as the one on June 14. The president is John Daynes and he may be contacted at 452-4556.
As we left Aghios Kosmas we allowed ourselves a moment of satisfaction over our discovery of the CCC and made a mental note to see what could be done about getting ginger beer here, too! The Corfiots have had it their own way for too long.
The Commonwealth Cricket Club won by 9 wickets. The individual scores were: D. Klewin — 3 for 21; A. Boxer — 47 not out; G. Bycroft 37; HMS LINKS 105 and Commonwealth Cricket Club 106.
