GUESS WHO

Guess Who

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Zenith… This is the name of our group, and it is derived from an expression we all know so well: "I have reached my zenith", which means I have reached my high point. When you have reached that state, you need to do something, anything. Like when we reached that point, and we realized we wanted to give something back, in any way we could. We chose to do what we know best. Of course, things are not so simple…

Photo: “Proini” newspaper of Kavala

Martha Argyriou Serafeim Kalaitzidis Demetra Karakatsani Argyris Kardaras Dimitris Koukias Kyriakos Koukias Demetra Koulaxizi Joanna Koulaxizi Giannos Xyros Prodromos Skantzouris Anastasia Tsanousidou Catherine Florentzi Villy Chondrokouki

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“Zenith” Theater Group

Guess Who Collective theater work

Translation from Greek Metaxia Tzimouli

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Guess Who, collective theater work ISBN: 978-618-5147-62-4 September 2015 Original Title: Μάντεψε ποιος

Translation from Greek: Editing: Cover page: Pictures on pages 8, 16, 18, 26, 30: Pictures on pages 10, 12, 20, 22, 42: Cover design, page layout:

Metaxia Tzimouli maetz84@hotmail.com Maria-Glykeria Dritsakou ritsadritsakou@hotmail.com Diana Seitanidou diana.seitanidou@gmail.com Diana Seitanidou diana.seitanidou@gmail.com Rafail Karaioakhm karaioakhmrafail@gmail.com Iraklis Lampadariou www.lampadariou.eu

Saita Publications Athanasiou Diakou 42 , 65201, Kavala T: 2510831856 M.: 6977 070729 e-mail: info@saitapublications.gr website: www.saitapublications.gr

Note: The font that we used at the cover is offered by Aka-acid (www.aka-acid.com).

Creative Commons License Attributions-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Greece You are free to share and distribute this material (fully or partially) using any means under the conditions of source reference and no commercial use of the material. You also cannot alter or use it for derivative works.

Detailed information on the license cc, can be found at: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/

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After hearing the words “no” and “do not” from the older generation, we decided to take these two words and create a group, from their union: naught, and now it has managed to reach its zenith.

The group, ZENITH, with their values unchanged in the passing of time and with their unique fire of youth, have managed to create a theater performance without the slightest help from the experienced “do not” people. The members of the group have proved that they are capable, not only of writing potent screenplays with strong words that capture the audience, but that they are also capable of performing naturally, effortlessly, without “enhancements”, and without staged movements and clichés. They have successfully taken care of the smallest detail, with the aim of financially supporting their unfortunate classmate. They paid more attention to the action, rather than the theory and wishful thinking. They underlined the value of solidarity in such a clear way, like their thoughts, which they perform easily, on stage.

This group’s journey starts from the theater performance, “GUESS WHO”, and they make their stop in this digital book and continue toward many more successes, lighting the spark of humanity within us. Listen to their thoughts, feel their pulse, follow them on the path they are leading you on, but do not be fooled by the title: you shall GUESS who YOU are, how YOU will live; do not just survive.

Have a good and careful reading!

Iraklis Lampadariou Philologist, Creator of Saita Publications

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Have you ever had a desire, the desire to help a person in need? For us the answer was positive, and from that desire, ZENITH was born! We will not hesitate to admit that it was a daring venture for a new up and coming group, which in the past had not ventured into anything similar… to create a new world from scratch. Maybe for some, this idea would not work, as some of the members lacked experience and knowledge, because of their young age. They never thought that their innocence and deep desire for giving would be the foundation for something which would be of significant importance!

So, defying the negative comments and the reservations of the “grown-ups”, we began!

We knew very well in advance that we would encounter hurdles along the way, but we decided that we would get through them, whatever the price.

Like everything else, the choice of the work was not so simple. Suddenly, the idea to create something entirely on our own, came to us. Through a theater game, we got our inspiration for our performance. All group members were asked to write down their own personal stories, with the common theme being their concern about a social phenomenon. However, here comes the unexpected! No one would tell their story. Instead, each story would be hidden within a guise, and that was the enigma the audience had to solve.

After long hours of rehearsal, which lasted all summer, we achieved the creation of our initial plan!

For the both of us, the directing process, the editing of the dialogues, and generally the undertaking of duties in the group, that was something new, and we tried to face it with due respect. In the end, the audience responded to our call, and left the theater full of smiles and emotion.

We would like to thank all those who helped us and were beside us, and all those who initially doubted us. It was their negative actions that we shielded ourselves from, and made it safely to Ithaca, because what matters is the journey and not the destination.

Catherine Florentzi, Demetra Koulaxizi The creators of the collective theater work “Guess Who”

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CONTENTS GOOD MORNING ...............................................................................................................13 HABITS ..............................................................................................................................15 SCHOOL VIOLENCE ...........................................................................................................17 ETERNALLY.......................................................................................................................19 POWER...............................................................................................................................21 REAL VALUE......................................................................................................................23 LOOK AT ME!.....................................................................................................................25 BLOODY STREET ...............................................................................................................27 QUESTION MARK..............................................................................................................29 FRIENDS.............................................................................................................................31 THE TIME OF APATHY .....................................................................................................33

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Good morning Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?

Something strange? Do I have something you don’t have? I don’t think so… I believe you look exactly as I do, like a mess, when you roll out of bed. You think by the way you stare at me that it affects me… not a chance. “Ok I know I don’t look like those people in the movies, that when they wake up, it seems like they just walked out of a beauty salon”, but it’s fine, I’m a doll anyway...

After recovering from the first shock of the day when you look at yourself in the mirror… the day continues. You go out for a walk and run into an acquaintance,and you start chatting to improve your mood.

As you begin walking, your first acquaintance jumps out. “The conversation which follows is familiar”.

“How are you? How…” Before you can even complete your sentence, the answer comes at the speed of light.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I have been busy looking for a job, but in vain. I have to pay my electricity bill, my water bill, and my phone bill. I owe 4 loan installments.

The weather is awful. My parents are not well… There is also… ENOUGH! Imagine what would happen if I asked him to tell me his news…

As if we ( and Ι am talking about me) don’t have the same problems. For the record, I have exactly the same. You recover from the encounter and walk a little further until you see an old classmate from high school that you haven’t seen in a long time.

“Where have you been? Where…”

Of course you don’t even get to complete your sentence…

“Where else would I be? Locked up at all hours, days, months, maybe even years in an office, without an ounce of sun, and I am working like crazy. I also have everyone breathing down my neck, “do this, do that”… and they think I’m capable of everything except for a promotion, and the money I receive… don’t ask, it doesn’t even cover my basic needs. I have zero free time. As you can understand, nowadays I am going through my own crisis…”

This is intolerable…

How are you supposed to have a conversation with someone, when the first thing that happens is that you get cornered with their problems?

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I feel like the world is in a competition with the title: “WHO HAS THE MOST PROBLEMS?” It’s like we are playing a game, and whoever has the most problems, wins, and if you have noticed they avoid asking about you. Let’s not talk about optimism! It has become an alien word. They are more hopeful for other people than they are for themselves, because we are not like the coiffed beauties in the movies, that we mentioned before. That doesn’t mean we are not living. It doesn’t mean we don’t exist, or are not living the life we want.

Show some positivity, people! Even if they won’t do it, let’s do it for ourselves, because we are worth it…

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Habits People and habits…It is now known that most people get hurt, and most of the time they get hurt in the same way, by the same causes… something like that happened to me once. I got hurt by something similar. What do I mean?

It was a time in my life when I had learned so much and I’m happy that this is how it happened. I met this really nice guy in middle school , and from the first moment I said to myself, that this is the person I want to spend my time with. He was wonderful and he made me laugh so much… So we started hanging out, and he would come over to my house, and for the first time I looked forward to school, just knowing that he would be there. We were so close that the other kids at school would call us “the unbeatable duo”. After some time, though, the jealousy started. He’d become jealous every time I would go out with other people, and it was very intense. Sometimes, he’d get angry and ignore me, and that bothered me a lot. Slowly, I started to act jealous like him, I became afraid that all my friends would leave me and that everyone hated me, even though that wasn’t true. Moreover, every time I’d go out with that person, he’d talk badly to me and I’d just stand there and passively accept everything, telling myself that if I told him how things really were, he’d disappear. It was obvious I was becoming dependent. As a result, I lost myself and ceased any contact with that person. I’d explain to him that his attitude towards me was hurtful, but he wouldn’t understand and call me stupid for thinking that way. After some time, I found the courage to tell him that we couldn’t be friends anymore. His reaction, when I told him, was unexpected. He started crying and apologizing, but it was too late. With time I started to feel better. I could finally go out with whomever I wanted, I felt free, and I said to myself that no one was ever going to hurt me again. I won’t change for anyone. I may have been terrible for some time, but now I’m very happy to have experienced it, as I have learned a lot, and that way I can learn to deal with different situations, even difficult ones. In conclusion, what I’d like to say is that I don’t hate that person, even after everything that happened. The time we spent together means that we were once compatible on some things, and I will never hold a grudge, as he has taught me a lot…

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School Violence Middle school is full of children and teachers. A community, which coexists peacefully in two different worlds, that no one can tell apart, no one sees the truth or at least chooses not to see it. From one side, you have the bitter and hurtful truth, and from the other side you have the convenient lie.

Let’s admit it, we all have chosen to live with the convenient lie, in order to avoid getting hurt. Unfortunately, in reality we get hurt more than we believe. So, I tried to look at the truth right in the eyes, and I think I was justified. What did I accomplish? I managed to respect myself and others. I’m not afraid anymore. I spoke to my teachers about the violence which is exerted, not only onto me, but to almost all the children at school.

“We will take action. Thank you for bringing it to our attention”. That's all they said.

For a moment, I thought something would change . However, all they did was distribute an anonymous questionnaire about school violence. What an exciting initiative! However, the results showed that two hundred and ninety three students either exert or are victims of violence, and the total of children at our school is three hundred and seven! You do the math! After that, for a week the students were calm. Things had settled down a bit. I thought that happened because of the shame everyone felt about the large number of results. Evidently, this calmness didn’t last long! The bad news is that the teachers just moved on, without caring. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who thinks this way. Maybe the rest of them like getting beat up and picked on? Who likes that? I think that I can find a way out myself , and I won’t compromise or tell myself that everything is alright, as I have made a decision, and I will never immerse myself in other people’s lies!

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Eternally It’s him…

He looks at me without moving, his beautiful, gray eyes staring at me… I talk to him… I smile… He doesn’t answer.

Where did you go? Why did you leave?

I loved you, I wanted you next to me and you left without saying goodbye.

Without one last hug or last look. Is that what we had agreed? I reach out to touch him but I can’t!

He makes a gesture for me to look at the moon…

I know what he wants to say… I remember…

We used to look at it together, at night…

He would hold and kiss me tenderly...

He told me beautiful stories. However, only one has stayed in my mind… It was about family love, but it doesn’t matter anymore… I remember how he would wake me up every day with songs and kisses, and tell me “when people shut their eyes to sleep, the next morning they are older and at the end, one night they will shut their eyes and sleep eternally”… I couldn’t understand…

What did he mean by eternally? I ignored it…

I couldn’t understand the reason he kept telling me that every morning!

Every hour, every day spent together was great, but…

That day…!

That different, horrible day!

My mom approached me with her head bent low…!

What’s wrong mom? Are you ok?

He’s gone…

He has slept eternally…

Then his words came to my mind…

People will sleep eternally…

Now I finally understand…

Goodbye Grandpa...

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Power It is not fair, right? Some people have all the power in their hands, and the rest of us are forced to suffer. We are destined to suffer. Maybe it is genetically encoded in our DNA. I have heard many times that many people belong to the “simple race”. They spend most of their lives suffering, fighting for their rights and their future. They’re people who resist to any power that is being imposed to them. Honestly, I don’t know how “simple” this race is; I’d call them simple people with great dreams. As I said before, there is also the kind of people who’re not afraid, nor do they fear violating other’s rights using illicit means in order to get to the top and preserve their status. These people belong to the so-called “superior race”, although they bear no relation to the superheroes found in comic books. On the contrary, they look more like the villainous guys in fairy tales who try to cause trouble and help evil reign over all. Though, in reality, it is not as simple. The good doesn’t always win in the end, nor do the bad get sucked into a black hole. I’ve always wondered where the villains in fairy tales hang out. I imagined them gathered in a cellar, playing cards and watching The Young and the Restless, except for Snow White’s stepmother, who would still be pestering that poor mirror. Of course, maybe they all gathered in our society and now they are governing us. If I suspect that we are a much easier target than that brat, Little Red Riding Hood, I will fall into despair. I swear I will fall into despair!!!

Ok, let’s get serious now… I’m aware, and I feel deeply within me that I may be living in this annoying reality, but never will I be ok with it. What I know now, is that I want to help people, and fight for a better tomorrow. Those are my dreams, which ultimately, may be the same as yours. At least now I can say I buried the villains of my life, deeper into the ground!

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Real Value Real Value Hmm…let me think…let’s start from here. There was a time in my life when everything was going alright. I had my friends, my interests, my love for life, and it would get better as I was getting ready for my biggest journey so far. It was in my third year of middle school with my group of friends. We would go out every Saturday. It was a break from our routine. The only flaw in that group was that every time we’d go out there’d be arguments and disagreements, mainly for stupid issues, which we would get over soon enough. My role was that of the referee. I tried to calm them down; they liked me as I was nice to them. What more could I do for those who gave me life?

Let’s go back to the trip to Istanbul, a trip which gave me experiences and changed me more than I could imagine. I discovered things, which until then remained hidden. Let me explain: the Πόλη (Poli) is considered to be great and its churches even greater. To certain people, that was more meaningful than what I expected. So…like with every school trip, I woke up early and waved goodbye to my quiet home life, and I was ready for an adventure. On the bus, I fell asleep and I was awakened by my friends’ laughter. They probably found my sleepy face funny, and then we finally had arrived! The rest is familiar: a walk around the city and then to the hotel. During the next few days, we visited every possible temple, the church Aγία Σοφία (Agia Sofia) being the "main course" in our "menu" . From all the visits my eyes filled with images. My friends kept worshipping, and praying, all the while gesturing at me to be quiet. I probably shouldn’t have let them see that I don’t believe in God. I was laughing and telling jokes about religion. The jokes were innocent, really. My friends, however, took them seriously. They kept away from me, and would give me occasional angry looks, but I didn’t care.

“Look at what the Patriarch gave me! With this souvenir, I will always have God by my side!” a friend said to me.

“Always… what if you want to go to the bathroom, will God follow you there too?” She didn’t say a word, she just smiled. Frankly, I would prefer it if she got angry. Returning from the trip, the worst was yet to come. It was obvious that they were avoiding me. I wasn’t the referee anymore. I was just someone from the crowd, and it seemed like the game was over for me. One day, they asked me to meet them at the park. I went without knowing what was about

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to follow. I found them seated on the benches, while I just stood there, and that’s how my trial began. Starting from the left, they all took turns in telling me how disappointed they were and what I did wrong.

“You are not a believer” “What you’re doing is wrong” “You’re being insolent” “I’m sorry, but I can’t be friends with an atheist”. They condemned me; their words rang in my head: “We’re sorry, but we do not want you anymore in the group”. I started to cry, and I didn’t know where to rest my hands, so I just stood there awkwardly. I begged them, but they had reached their decision.

“I am sorry! I don’t have any other friends, don’t do this to me!” Embarrassed by my response, they marched on like little soldiers, leaving me behind.

However, the story doesn’t end here. I have to thank them. If that hadn’t happened, I would still be hanging out with a narrow-minded group of people, who believe that everyone has to agree in order to coexist. I thank them, because now I have friends that truly care about me. There is beauty in anything that is different, and there is no shame in that!

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Look at Me! People always talk and express their opinions, right? Right! But why does your “opinion” put me in an awkward position? I get onto the bus and learn the gossip of the week: who’s going to build their house in the next corner, at which university Koula got accepted (I don’t even know her, but I am sure she’s nice!), that and much more. I get off the bus and hear some kids talking about me! They are talking about what am I wearing (jeans and a shirt), and how I walk (like a human being or so I believe). It’s not just that. It only takes a moment to lose your confidence. A while back, I had been fighting with my parents about my performance at school.

“He doesn’t care, he isn’t trying at all and he doesn’t understand that the oral examination during tests and exams will help him get better”.

That’s what my teachers said. Oh, and in case you didn’t get it… I’m dyslexic.

Yes, I know it’s not bad, but most people think it’s a problem and deal with dyslexic children, as if they are different. One day in French class -if I am not mistaken- a group of older kids came to watch our lesson. We laughed and joked around, until my teacher asked me to read something in front of the whole class. You may ask: What’s wrong with that? The thing is when I start reading I get stuck on a few words or stall, and when the other kids heard me, they started laughing and whispering in front of my eyes, making me feel more awkward than before. Of course, no one realized how much that bothered me, or at least they pretended not to realize. I didn’t pay much attention to be honest, because I was starting to get used to it. Shortly after, the teacher put us in pairs to solve a few exercises, and as you can imagine the spiteful comments continued. WHY? Spelling is not my strongest skill, either. The kids, for some lessons didn’t want to be with me so I wouldn’t embarrass them, as they kept saying behind my back. When they found out I have dyslexia, they stopped laughing at me, but they didn’t realize that from that day on everything would be different for me. I was ashamed just to raise my hand in class, even for something I was sure was right, only to avoid those well known looks.

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Bloody Street You loved me… you understood me… you were there for me… Now what? You left… I’m sure you don’t understand what I’m talking about… I had a very good friend since I was little, our friendship was based on trust and love, and as we grew older we grew closer, we understood one another and dealt with our problems together. With time, however, her behavior was becoming more selfish; “no one is perfect” is what I always said and believed to this day, that’s why I didn’t pay attention. We were teenagers and whatever reckless thing she did I moved passed it, believing that was the cause for her wild behavior, but after a certain point, I couldn’t justify her anymore, as she had become weird. She would cry and get angry for any little thing. I could see a lot of anger in her eyes, it was almost like hate. She was not the girl I once knew, she had become distant, she was smoking all the time and had become moody. She looked like she didn’t want to live. I would advise her, but it didn’t help. She started to hang out with strange people with a bad reputation, and I asked her to stop. She promised me she would, but she didn’t. When I found out, I confronted her, but she didn’t convince me with her lies– besides, she couldn’t, as she was already on drugs. She was becoming incoherent. What was once called “friendship” started to deteriorate, and so did she. I got angry because she chose them over everything else. I told her mother the truth, with the hope that maybe she could help her, but she didn’t believe me. I realized that it was difficult for her to discipline her, the only thing she did was to judge her about every little thing she did. By doing that, she was ruining her. I found out everything from mutual friends; my friend was becoming more and more aggressive, and I was always provoking her with my anger . I wanted to hurt her, we had become enemies. Despite all my efforts to save her, I achieved nothing. She didn’t trust me anymore, no matter how many times I tried to talk to her. The last time I explained to her what was happening, she believed me, but didn’t tell me the truth, out of selfishness. Nothing held meaning for her anymore, she was sinking into darkness. I wanted to bring back color into her life. So, one night, I got a can of red paint and went to her street, and wrote with big letters “I MISS YOU”. I was hasty as I didn’t want anyone to see me and tell me to leave, and I then wouldn't get my chance to give her “color and love”, what she was really missing, even in my own way. I cried as I wrote, because I believed she would

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erase it. I was almost over, when a car suddenly came out of the dark, but I didn’t see or hear it, as I was too focused on finishing. The car hit me; the street was bathed in red. I had not reacted fast enough with tears running down my face. Later, my friend walked out, and there on the street the words “I MISS YOU” brought tears to her eyes, and she sat on the sidewalk for quite some time.

When I woke up from my coma, 4 months later, and found out all the things that had happened to me, I could not believe it. It was all muddled in my head, but I was also told that my friend had managed to free herself, and for the last month she was coming almost every day to see me; I was happy and calm, after my many efforts to help her. I always knew that she would pull herself out of it. I knew she was strong. One day, she came to the hospital and, while talking, she asked me if we could be friends again. I sent her away because I was still very confused. I don’t trust her, as she reminds me of everything which had happened. Like a nightmare.

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Question Mark I decided to go to Athens. I had just graduated from Chemistry, and it had been five months since I last saw him. I was catching the train alone, and P would be waiting for me at the station. What I like most about him is the mystery within him, you may think you know him, but he is a complete stranger. But this is true for so many other people...

I had all the quiet I needed in my compartment on the train. It was night when I arrived, and P’s presence at the station, waiting, was exactly what I needed. That’s the reason I went to Athens in the first place, anyway.

We went back to his house, and it was one of those nights that something gets into me and I can’t sleep. We talked a bit, and as much as I did not want to, I eventually fell asleep on the couch.

The next morning, I woke up and he had already left for school. Later at night, he was taking me to Εξάρχεια (Exarcheia), therefore I thought I should walk around somewhere a bit “brighter”, such as Θησείο (Thiseio). One million souls had decided to live crammed in the capital. People walking around, like wind-up toys on the street, downcast, speechless, gloomy. All around, many other people with different homelands and languages, struggling to survive day and night. There are so many elderly people, so much unemployment, and long queues at the social security administration, the recruitment agency, and the soup kitchens.There are plenty of homeless people, living in cardboard boxes, changing “home” every night, and so many others which I’m not in a position to mention. There was a voice inside of me screaming: “How did we become like this?”. But we are the ones to blame.

I went to Syntagma, I stood there and tried to discern the transparent glass which protected the Parliament. Nothing happened. How can some people not be moved by that?

My stomach was twisted in a knot from everything I had seen that morning.

I went home.

He was there, and he had cooked. Thankfully, he’s the sort of person who won’t pressure you to do something; a “no, thank you” is enough. I was so tired that it even showed in my reflection in the mirror. I sat next to him, speechless, and he held my hand, the same hand he still holds.

Ultimately, no one knows where life will take us, for who would expect that we ourselves would become spectators of the “discarded” people, and someday we would be leaving for Australia, “for a better tomorrow”.

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Friends The dawn is breaking soon… It’s a strange sensation to face so much calmness…

The city looks so tiny from here… so beautiful… peaceful! It’s as if all my problems shrink away to nothing along with it. Every time I come here time stops. This place has a surreal ability… in emptying my mind! I spend hours here, managing not to think… staring at the sea… the little light in the horizon, and suddenly you…

"You won’t achieve anything in your life…"

Everything bothers you… everything I do… and the worse? Everything I am.

"There's the door… if you don’t like it here, you’re free to leave…"

This is the third time in a month that I come over here, because of the fights and the tears at home… I hate to see you cry, I don’t want to cry too. I don’t know what is bothering you the most… my friends or my perspective. You wanted a child that would take after you… How did you imagine I’d be when you listened to my heartbeat during the ultrasound? Maybe an 18-year old, full of dreams and hopes for the future, wearing a crisp shirt and starched pants, and with a position in the Athens’ Law School, and the prospect of starting a postgraduate program in some British university. With the dream to conquer the world… to become your worthy successor at the factory… giving sharp and pitiless orders to the workers…

"You work from 7 to 5, not a minute less… Forget about benefits and days off; I am your supervisor… and I make the decisions! I’m paying you, I am the one putting food on your plate!"

I turned out stray and lazy… I do not raise my voice. Even when I go out to buy cigarettes… I see it in the eyes of the shop owner… it takes him a few seconds to understand that I want some Marlboros… sometimes I have to repeat it more slowly… but I never raise my voice. I’m not good at yelling, or at exercising power.

"Be careful of who you hang out with… your friends don’t come from good families…"

So I desperately try to explain… but you won’t listen…

"Is Chris Albanian?"

You asked me this afternoon… some of your friends spilled the beans.

"Yes, Chris came from Albania when he was a baby…"

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You frowned. But what you don’t know, what I never said, is that Chris is my best friend, that he refused to take over the attendance register at school because he’s not a snitch, and at chemistry class he’d always lower his shoulder, pretending there was something bothering him there, and in that way I could copy from him… he knew I had a hard time with Chemistry… although, he never admitted it, and I never asked for it. Remember? Do you remember when I brought you a 19/20 for the first and last time on my grade sheet? Chris had spent his entire weekend trying to teach me organic chemistry… Meth… eth… prop… bout – he kept saying – carbon and hydrogen…

Once I got the good grade you hugged me tight and you bought me a new cell phone… I secretly checked the receipt; it said 400 euros… Chris and his entire family have to live with a little more than that. So you see, mom… friends are not Albanians… nor Greeks, and most of all… they can’t be bought, nor sold.

We are all the same.

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The Time of Apathy Have you ever experienced the so-called “time of apathy?”. Yes, that’s how I chose to name it, so I can distinguish it from all the other times… Yes, I have named other times too, ok. Don’t judge me… That’s not cool. It’s not an obsession, but more like a hobby. Anyway, this famous time of apathy, is where a big part of your life is spent in front of a screen, sometimes breaking the score of a stupid game, sometimes watching a series, which will last for 190 seasons, drooling, eyes squinting, and the very last brain cell : “This will never end”. Or sometimes talking to people, which you will likely never meet… Now, I would plead to the mothers out there to not freak out. The main issue is the fatal “pinning” to your comfortable couch…when you are not in the mood to do anything, and any movement looks like an unbearable Calvary. However, I have experienced that abnormity, and it was in the most beautiful, according to third parties, phase of my life, that of infinite carelessness. I’m aware it doesn’t sound like me, because above all I’m a DIVA! Really, I have always wondered what could be the worst situation for a person to go through… loneliness, injustice or death… I think I have finally found the notorious answer to my question. The worst of all is losing yourself; you instantly become an easy target if you lose your identity. You can face everything if equipped with a unique, super-powerful weapon: your selfknowledge. If you don’t support yourself, no one else is going to do it for you.

If you don’t know who you are, who is going to tell you? Besides, why should you trust the other person? What more do other people know that you don’t?

But even if you do it, how good can it make you feel?Will you still be the same, or will you become a perfect version to fit other people’s demands?

Have I confused you yet? Alright, let me make it more simple… From all this I do know one thing… Even when shutting the door behind you terrifies you, call the number 210… I’m just kidding… don’t give up, wear whatever you find in front of you, go out and feel the sun warm on your face, and smile at this magical moment. Life is full of magical moments, which smile at you. Don’t you want to smile back? Seriously though… there is a small possibility, a few passers-by might get scared at the sight of a crazy person, probably in their pajamas, smiling widely, for no reason at all… but who cares? They feel the exact same way, I bet. Maybe there comes a time for all of us when we have to choose between truth and dare. It’s funny that most of the time, in fear of

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failing if we dare, we end up picking the truth. But how easy is this choice?

Does life prepare us for what is yet to come? Of course not. So, I say, let’s leave our miserable truth at home and let’s pick dare… let’s move away from our comfort zone, and do something that makes us feel that life is worth living. But in the end, who am I to give advice? I can’t answer that!

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One summer, one purpose, many struggles, 36 many joys, one team: you, my family, our ZENITH! Catherine Florentzi

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What is created from the foundations of love and childish enthusiasm, cannot be anything else but beautiful. That’s what ZENITH is to us!

Demetra Koulaxizi Unity is strength. Many different people gathered and made real what we thought could only happen in the movies.

Joanna Koulaxizi Anyone can identify.

Kyriakos Koukias Guys, I love you.

Dimitris Koukias

The ZENITH group was something else, and will be my family because they are the people I love.

Argyris Kardaras

We are one great family, like rice flour biscuits! Αnastasia Tsanousidou

The image at its ZENITH! Raphael Karaioakeim

We are a team and we work as one.

Demetra Karakatsani

From this performance I have learned what it’s like to dream.

Martha Argyriou

The difference found in each person is beautiful when shared, within a team.

Villy Chondrokouki

If we did not work together, ZENITH wouldn’t exist!

Antony Mavridis

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One team, 16 people at their ZENITH. Dimitris Konstantinidis The performance helped me better understand the meaning and the accomplishment of the team . I believe that, aside from the money which was gathered, the performance did convey messages, which made the audience ponder and perhaps take action on social issues that affect us all.

John Xyros Tranquility and solidarity is the religion we live by!

Serafeim Kalaitzidis There are 10 bright and talented faces looking back at me.

Prodromos Skantzouris

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The idea of Saita publications emerged in July 2012, having as a primary goal to create a web space where new authors can interact with the readers directly and free.

Saita publications’ aim is to redefine the publisher-author-reader relationship, by cultivating a true dialogue and by establishing an effective communication channel for authors and readers alike. Saita publications stay far away from profit, exploitation and commercialization of literary property.

The strong wind of passion for reading, the sweet breeze of creativity, the zephyr of motivation, the sirocco of imagination, the levanter of persistence, the deep power of vision guide the saita (paper plane) of our publications.

We invite you to let books fly free!

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“Guess Who” is a collective piece of work, which is composed of eleven personal experiences, written by the group members themselves. The authors who share their insight, “narrate” in their own unique and heartfelt way, the problems and questions that today’s society tries to impose on us.

Maybe it’s time to hear our voice? Careful, for you might find yourself confused… by their stories. Whose “voice” will you listen to?

ISBN: 978-618-5147-62-4