Migration, and the women left behind


Writing these accounts of the lives of my mother, grandmother and great grandmother highlighted the challenges these strong women faced. All three generations who demonstrated an indomitable spirit. In the face of adversity, the absence of a son, husband and father they did not crumble, instead they conquered. Today we teach the skills of resilience, back then they practised them. It has been a privilege and an honour to share my ancestors’ stories, the women in my life who have paved the way for me, my daughters and future generations.

Fotini Kouvaras Moraitis

“She was unstoppable, not because she did not have failures or doubts but because she continued on, despite them.”

Beau Taplin

Fotini, also known as Foto, born in Stavros, 1879, lived with her five siblings, Katerini, Elvina, Nicholas, George and Ioakim. A hardworking woman who spent her days undertaking household duties and working in the fields. One day as Foto was running an errand near the kafenion in Stavros she came across a handsome man reading the newspaper, he was illiterate and did not realise he was holding it upside down. He was trying to impress this young woman. Foto, so taken by this young, towering man, besieged to a friend that if this man asked for her hand in marriage, she would fall to the ground and kiss her father Floria’s feet to beg for his approval.

Athanasios Moraitis, standing at 6ft 4 inches disclosed his interest in Foto to his neighbours. The villagers advised him to marry Foto’s sister, Elvina, as in their eyes she was the attractive one in the family, but to him, Foto was the most beautiful and he insisted on marrying her. Women were very protective of their reputation and virtue, Foto’s morals, resolute and unyielding. During their engagement, Athanasios tried to steal a kiss whilst Foto was preparing the traditional dish, Savoro; she immediately turned around and with fury, threw flour in his startled face. As Foto was bending to retrieve some vegetables from an old, wooden case Athanasios attempted to touch Foto’s leg with affection, she screamed in horror, struck him and then refused to speak to him for two entire weeks. Finally, they married and moved into the patriarchal home in Agios Ioannis residing with Athanasios’ father, Odysseus and mother Anastasia. Odysseus proved to be a very obstinate, demanding, headstrong man presenting Foto with many challenges.

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Foto surrounded by her family

Each morning, Foto swept the main room of their shared home whilst Odysseus purposefully dropped his crumbs on the clean floor to irritate her. When Foto announced to her family that she was with child, Odysseus called out, “Foto, Foto, Arseniko to Thelo to Proto!” Foto prayed that her firstborn would be a son, born on 8 September, Tis Panayias, so he would be named, Panayiotis. She feared that if her son took his grandfather’s name, Odysseus he may perhaps inherit her father-in-law’s difficult and unmanageable disposition. Her prayers answered, Panayiotis arrived on the day of Panayias. Foto was a woman who lived for her family, rarely seen visiting the homes of Agios Ioannis, preferring to spend her time preparing meals, cleaning her home and tending to her vegetable garden. When her son, Panayiotis reached a year old, Foto’s husband Athanasios left Ithaki bound for New York, USA.
Foto, the dutiful wife ensured her husband possessed all the necessities required for such a long voyage.

During his time abroad, Athanasios sent his wife many letters, recounting life on the railroads of New York. He regularly sent her money, ensuring his responsibilities fulfilled.
A month after Athanasios’ departure, Foto discovered she was pregnant with her second child. Her days spent caring for her doting son, Panayiotis, cleaning her home, tending to her fields and caring for her in-laws.

At seven months pregnant, Foto went into early labour and gave birth to her daughter, Nafsika, who weighed just 2 ½ pounds. With a lack of education but ample common sense, Foto swaddled her premature baby in warm blankets, placed her in a cradle surrounded by cotton wool, in a room with an open fire and window slightly ajar for ventilation.

Her daughter grew stronger each day and despite her early, fragile start to life, thrived. Foto was an astute woman whose ambition to survive was strong. Money she received from abroad spent on necessities and accumulation of lands across Ithaki. Foto managed to purchase properties in Stavrola, beneath Xani and Agro near Kathara. She accrued an abundance of olive and fruit trees. Foto occupied her days making fruit conserves, producing olive oil and ample barrels of wine. This yield sustained her family and provided them with regular income. Athanasios spent eleven long years abroad providing for his family. Upon his return to the remote village of Agios Ioannis, he reunited with his family. As Athanasios stood on his family porch, he looked out onto a group of spirited, young girls playing on the rock-strewn road, his eyes darting, searching for his own precious daughter.

The villagers beckoned him to recognise a daughter he had never set eyes on.

He shouted to the villagers, “Of course I recognise my daughter Nafsika, my angel, there she is.”

He pointed to his fair skinned, blonde haired daughter, attributes inherited from her father.

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To celebrate Athanasios’ return, his wife Foto had meticulously prepared the traditional welcome home dish of avgolemono soup and in addition, Psito, meat prepared in a wood fire oven. Athanasios questioned why two meals had been prepared. Foto explained to him that their dear daughter, Nafsika, did not enjoy avgolemono. To teach Nafsika a lesson, Athanasios insisted that his wife serve avgolemono for seven days in a row. Foto was delighted to have her loving, fair-haired husband home to share the responsibilities of his parents, children, home and fields. During this time, Foto became pregnant with her second daughter, Anastasia. Their time together as a family was short lived as Athanasios prepared to undertake another journey, this time to Australia. In 1923, Foto’s beloved husband set sail for the long voyage to a land full of promise. He purchased a fish and chip shop in Carlton. Foto, the dutiful wife, without complaint, endured the challenges that lay before her and stoically continued caring for her extended family.

A year later, Foto’s son, aged fourteen, joined his father in Australia. Foto, devastated, losing the companionship of her much loved and adored son, Panayiotis. Her days consisted of keeping a watchful eye over her lively daughter, Nafsika, sending her to Vathy to become a seamstress, caring for her youngest child and ensuring the vegetables, grapevines, olive and fruit trees, cultivated and prosperous. With determination and patience, Foto succeeded in providing for her immediate family and the people of Agios Ioannis. Regular correspondence from her husband and son highlighting their progress in the lucky country provided Foto with great comfort. Four years later, Foto received a letter containing devastating news of the ailing health of her dear husband, Athanasios, diagnosed aged 54 with a brain tumour. Panayiotis carrying the heavy burden, kept the shattering diagnosis from his father. Spending all the money they collectively earned, Panayiotis escorted his gravely ill father to Germany and Italy seeking a cure. The cure was not to be and Panayiotis accompanied his father home to reunite with his wife and daughters and live his last days in his much-loved village. He survived long enough to see his eldest daughter, Nafsika, marry.

Foto Couvaras Moraitis, pictured 2nd row, left holding her granddaughter, Fotoula. Top, left, her daughter Anastasia, daughter-in-law, Spiridoula, son, Panayiotis, cousin, Chrisoula holding Athanasios, Foto’s grandson

In 1933, Athanasios passed away surrounded by his loving wife and devoted children in his home. Foto overcome with grief compelled her young daughter, Anastasia to wear black. Her daughter’s teacher advised Foto that this practice of wearing black was affecting her daughter’s mental state so Foto relented. Foto though, wore black for forty-five years as a sign of respect to her husband. Married for over 34 years, sharing a home for only 19 years. Their physical separation did not alter the love and adoration they shared. After the passing of her husband, Foto encouraged her young son to attain a bride and settle into their home in Agios Ioannis. Her son, Panayiotis had sought the hand of thirteen women until Spiridoula Raftopoulos agreed.

The other women declined due to the isolation of Agios Ioannis. Foto and Spiridoula worked side by side in the home and fields. She was delighted with the birth of her first grandson Arthur and after two years, her granddaughter Fotoula. With a sense of duty and commitment, Foto faced the obligation of her son’s family during Panayiotis’ return to Australia in 1938. She assisted her daughter-in-law with the upbringing of the next generation in addition to her own duties. In the same year, Foto welcomed her son’s third child with open arms, a little girl, Frederica. When the little one turned three, Spiridoula, forced to return to her patriarchal home in Kalivia, Foto insisted on taking care of the youngest child. She undertook her duty as both mother and grandmother to Freda with such care and commitment. She sent Freda to school in Lefki, provided her with love, devotion and protection. Foto’s son, Panayiotis, supported his mother financially for over forty-five years; they shared a very special bond. After fourteen long years, her son Panayiotis arrived home to take his family back to Australia along with his 76-year-old mother. Foto found it challenging settling into life in Australia; the language, people and environment overwhelmed her. She lived with her son and his family for four years but decided to return to her beloved Ithaki. As an 80-year-old woman, courageous and daring, she travelled alone on the ship bound for Greece. She lived the remainder of her life in Stavros with her youngest daughter, Anastasia and family, raising her grandchildren. Foto was a selfless woman, with her family at the forefront of her mind and actions. She accepted her fate and viewed the world pragmatically. Her legacy lives on, especially through her granddaughter Freda, raised by this strong, determined woman.

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Spiridoula Raftopoulos Moraitis

The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.

In the small village of Agios Ioannis, Ithaki, Spiridoula Moraitis (nee Raftopoulos) wed Panagiotis Athanasios Moraitis in 1933.

After her wedding day, Spiridoula relocated from her patriarchal home of Kalivia to the remote village by the Ionian Sea.

Relationships formed quickly with neighbours, helping each other, sharing food and clothing, sharing lives. This is where the true sense of community formed.

Spiridoula, with very little education but common sense abundant, established her home, gave birth to her children and maintained a comfortable and clean house. When time permitted, Spiridoula would walk down the rocky path, adjacent to Agios Dionysios, to the serenity and peace of Kaliva beach. In 1938, her husband decided to immigrate to Melbourne, Australia to create a better life for his family as did many before and after him.

Panayiotis, no stranger to Australia had travelled there with his father Athanasios in 1915. Many fond memories of his life spent there, as a young 14-year-old, his desire to return, a strong one. Leaving behind his wife, mother and two children, Panayiotis departed from his beloved Ithaki to build a future for himself and family. A woman in her mid 20’s, Spiridoula found herself with two young children in her husband’s home and village. There she faced the uncertainty of her husband’s return, the survival of her children, and her desire to uphold her untarnished reputation as a mother without a male figure by her side. A month after Panayiotis’ departure she faced another challenge; the discovery that she was expecting her third child. This must have seemed an insurmountable hurdle; but with determination and grit, Spiridoula continued her daily routine of looking after her son, Arthur and daughter Fotoula whilst sharing a home with her mother-in-law, sister-in-law and aunty Chrisoula. She tended to the fields, washed her clothes at Vrisi, a ½-hour walk along a rock-strewn path, cooked the meals, cleaned her home and made time to visit her neighbours. In the middle of winter, Spiridoula gave birth to her daughter, Frederica.

On this day, no cinnamon scented halva sat on the stove in the kitchen, as daughters considered a burden to the family. A decision made three years later, due to financial reasons, the family would separate. The older two children would join their mother in Kalivia under the watchful eye and support of her father, Panos (Bellas) Raftopoulos. The youngest child, Frederica would remain in Agios Ioannis with her paternal grandmother Foto. Spiridoula’s life in Kalivia was a taxing one. She tended to the wild, coastal olive trees, often seen climbing high up on the strong and sturdy branches ensuring the collection of each precious olive. She took care of her two eldest children and father, a stern, authoritarian figure. From time to time, Spiridoula received letters and money from her husband, Panayiotis. She entrusted a close friend of the village, Feroniki to read these letters together, as she was unable to read; a dependable and faithful friendship developed. The monetary gifts sent from her husband were insufficient to ease the tensions that had mounted in the home.

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Each year passed with ambiguous assurance of a voyage to Australia for Spiridoula and her family. Her father would often proclaim in disdain, “Moraitis (Deseoulis) has left me with his family on my back.” Spiridoula, forbidden to venture out too far from her patriarchal home, prohibited from church services at her local church in Stavros, deprived of communion for eleven years. Spiridoula’s home in Kalivia was the birthplace of Ithaki’s patron saint Joakim, Papoulaki. Her religious beliefs held dear and close, despite her ban of attending church service, provided her with great comfort. Her trips to Agios Ioannis made by foot, hours on a rocky track, arms laden with filled hessian bags were a regular occurrence providing Spiridoula with an opportunity to visit her youngest child Frederica. Spiridoula faced many worrying challenges as her children endured communicable diseases. Her son contracting polio, her youngest daughter overcoming diphtheria. These challenges were faced alone, no husband by her side and only the eyes of the villagers who genuinely admired her tenacity and will for survival. After fourteen long years, her husband Panayiotis finally arrived in Ithaki to prepare his family for their voyage to Australia. A 30 -day trip taken by Spiridoula, their two daughters- Fotoula and Freda and the paternal grandmother Foto (aged 80 yrs) travelled on the Fair Sea docking in Port Melbourne in 1954.

Spiridoula’s resilience, willingness to accept her fate and steer life in a positive direction are her legacy to her family and friends.

Frederica Moraitis Razos

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
So you are old by the time you reach the island,
Wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
Not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

C.P. Cavafy

On a frosty, cold winter’s day in December of 1938, in a small village of Agios Ioannis, a little girl arrived into the world.

This child born in her grandparents’ home surrounded by women: her mother Spiridoula, grandmother Foto, sister Fotoula and great aunt Chrisoula.

The newborn child was to inherit her maternal grandmother’s name, Eleni. Due to the chilly, frosty weather a baptism for the little, chestnut haired baby held in the family home. The priest arrived, the kolibithra prepared with lukewarm water and the nouno, who had travelled from Kefalonia, standing proudly in the home ready to perform his duty. As was customary, the women hid in the home and only the men were privy to the ceremony. The young babe’s brother Athanasios ever present looking intently into the kolimbithra together with a few men from the village. The priest gently raised the young, curious baby into the air chanting the ceremonial verse of “Vaftizete o Doulos tou Theou”, inviting the nouno to proclaim the name. Instead of declaring the name Eleni, he loudly exclaimed, ‘Frederica’.

Shocked at hearing this name, the women all frantically rushed out of their tiny rooms and began to challenge the nouno. He indignantly decreed that he was the nouno and would choose the name for the young child; the Queen’s name he declared. From that day on, this young baby responded to her new name, Frederica. Until the age of three, Freda enjoyed her carefree childhood surrounded by sea and rocky mountains in a supportive community environment, enveloped by the love of her mother, grandmother and siblings. On her third birthday, Freda faced separation from her mother and siblings. Spiridoula, forced to return to her patriarchal home in Kalivia, due to the burden of financial strain, reluctantly parted from her youngest child Freda and surrendered her into the caring and doting arms of her paternal grandmother Foto.

Freda too young to realise, lost the constant companionship of her siblings, Arthur and Fotoula and most importantly the loving arms of her mother. From time to time, Spiridoula walked the long, rock-strewn road from Kalivia to Agios Ioannis to deliver food and clothing but most importantly to maintain a bond with her youngest child. As Freda flourished in the small community of Agios Ioannis she began to form friendships with the neighbouring children, the Dellaportas clan who resided beneath her family home and her closest childhood friend, Sofia Moraitis.

Freda knew from an early age that her father Panayiotis Moraitis was living in a country far away from the quiet, peaceful village of Agios Ioannis.

On many occasions, her paternal grandmother Foto would sit with Freda sharing memories of the man Freda called ‘Patera’. Photos of Panayiotis proudly exhibited in the family home ensured Freda and her grandmother Foto were able to keep him close and vivid in their minds. Each Easter, Christmas and name days a place setting arranged for him at the family dining table. Each year passed with the stories of her father’s adventures to keep Freda close and connected to her patera. Accounts of his business ventures revealed in his letters, which she awaited eagerly. Freda imagined a tall, strong, dark haired man as her father, her savior, her protector. Each day Freda would travel by foot with the neighbouring children to the school in Lefki.

She eagerly memorised poems, performed in school concerts, played in the yard happily knowing that one day she would travel to a distant country with promises of a brighter future, reunited with a father she only identified with in the photos that adorned her walls and through the countless stories shared in the family home. In 1953 whilst Freda was swimming at Kendro beach with Sofia, they noticed the waves crashing, becoming fierce and rough and as they looked up towards the houses in the village, they realised that an earthquake was causing havoc and destruction.

The young girls frantically ran towards their houses screaming with utter fear and panic as they witnessed the destruction that enveloped their little village. Once they hastily reached the top of the rocky, windy path, the discovery of the fragmented ruins that lay helplessly on the ground overwhelmed them. Freda cried in disbelief, privately hoping to be rescued by her absent father, coming to the aid of her poor grandmother Foto who had endured the immense weight of raising Freda along with the responsibility of the family home and fields. This day, Freda joined her mother Spiridoula and siblings together with her grandmother Foto in Stavros to escape the devastation and to secure a roof over their heads.

That year, Freda, reacquainted with her devoted mother and siblings. During a school concert in 1954, as Freda recited a poem, “I Xenitemenous Pou Girisane”, a short, husky voiced man appeared in the crowded classroom of Lefki. Panayiotis, hearing his daughter’s voice, instantly recognised her as his own daughter, a daughter he had never set eyes on until this very moment. The audience overcome with emotion witnessed a moving and poignant reunion between father and daughter. At first, Freda felt distant from her father; he did not resemble the image she had conjured in her mind and imagination. In reality, Freda’s father appeared much older and shorter than the photos she treasured. Panayiotis tried to approach his daughter with love, tenderness and affection but Freda felt uneasy, as she was very unaccustomed to any males in her home. She avoided eye contact and close proximity with him initially. Panayiotis decided to take his two daughters on a trip to Athens to become acquainted with them.

This time away, marvelling at the ancient ruins, eating at restaurants and shopping through the streets of Athens slowly broke away the pieces of uncertainty and years lost; gradually a closeness between father and daughters began to develop. After such a long period, fourteen years, Panayiotis was ready to take his family to Melbourne, to begin a new life, a new chapter as a whole and complete family.

The day arrived to board the ship, The Fair Sea bound for the 30-day journey to Australia. Panayiotis had purchased the family home in Caulfield, beds for his children along with clothes and all the necessities awaiting them. Over the years, Panayiotis and Freda developed a close and deep-seated bond that even a fourteen-year absence could not rescind. Many memorable and happy years spent together, along with Freda’s husband Louis and their children. Panayiotis, together with his wife Spiridoula, travelled the world in their senior years visiting Mexico and Europe. During these years, he sent many endearing and loving letters to his beloved daughter Freda relaying his exciting adventures.

Today, Freda treasures an ordinary bag containing these extraordinary letters from her beloved father, Mr Morris.