Old Photographs

 

One of my favourite hobbies is looking through old photographs. I love the way they make me feel - as though we have come from somewhere. Somewhere innocent. We don’t just exist in time and space - we have a story.

This picture transports me to before everything broke. Before our families fell to pieces, before my grandfather (dedeh) passed away, before this house was sold, before my grandmother had dementia, before we became strangers. It is Christmas Eve, ‘96. My dedeh probably insisted (as he always would) this his sons and their families all got together at his home for lunch. And not only on special occasions, but on Sundays too. He hated going out, to him there was nothing better than having his family under his roof, eating, drinking, talking and laughing.

In this photograph the Geroyan Grandkids are hanging out at the granny flat behind the house, with George our eldest (and therefore most trusted) cousin barbecuing what was probably a left over meat skewer on the “manghal”. I remember the smells and tastes of the day, they were like any other day we all got together. The air tasted like scotch and smoke, Armenian music in the background, laughter and loud small talk.

I laugh each time I look at this picture because it is so tale telling and raw. I have always had an insatiable appetite, obvious as I probably could not wait and am already eating. My sister, Alissa is trying so hard to be close to George, the leader who is cooking and posing at the same time, showing off intense “swagger” in his basketball jersey. And sweet and humble Kristina and Anita, who were always impeccably dressed and even better behaved.

Also, I would like to note that I was not in charge of the styling of my hair, and have had numerous discussions with my seemingly cruel mother about why she would subject me (and subsequently herself) to such humiliation.

Heartbreak

Someone once asked me a strange question.

“Caroline, how do you deal with heartache?”

I really do not know. Do you even deal with it or does it deal with you?

I read somewhere that the term “heartache" is actually a thing. When you are experiencing the emotions your lungs and air ways physically close up, and that feeling that emulates a ton of bricks on your chest is actually your chest closing in. Your heart ACTUALLY endures pain, and it ACTUALLY feels like your heart is breaking, but any girl/woman beyond 12 could have told you that.

I don’t know how you deal with it. I don’t know how I deal with it. I don’t cry incessantly, I just cave in. I try to not let such a negative feeling consume me but mostly I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I lay in bed, other times I go out… I have no finite method. Recently, I was listening to a song while driving, and I burst out in tears. Is that dealing? By the way it was “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran, so I mean, my crying was on totally on cue.

When I am in the mood for “real talk” I ask my mother. Her advice is so on point its frustrating. She tells me what I need to hear not necessarily what I want, which would be something like “go out there, drink, smoke, shag heaps go good looking, brooding men (all of which are valid ways to deal by the way). But no, her advice is alway says something along the lines of “this too shall pass.”

One time she was honest enough to say “I don’t know what to tell you…your situation is pretty fucked.” Another time she pushed me to go to London to see a guy I had thought that I liked simply to see if I actually had feelings for him or if it was the distance that was getting to me. She’s cool like that – its just, like anyone, mothers don’t always know what to say. But I guess, all anyone going through heartache really needs to hear is that it is all going to be okay, because after all, it is…right?

Remember your first heartache? Slightly? At the time that dickhead who did not pick you for the year 6 public speaking team caused the worst, most irrefutable pain EVER, and now it is a distant memory. I think that’s what my mother means when she says “this too shall pass”, and sure enough it does.

Being heartbroken has its advantages though. Your friends are extra nice, sometimes they bring you treats (because you don’t buy enough for yourself), total strangers are suddenly qualified psychologists who listen to you, lending a shoulder to cry on (or is this just what I do), and when you are having a cigarette, you never get told to go outside, because after all, which heartless prick is going to kick out someone who is crying hysterically and intensely looking at the cigarette flame at the same time?

So how do I deal? I don’t know. I just do. But what I look forward to is having my own daughter come up to me with her head in her hands and her eyes full of tears telling me about the dickhead who wont pay her any attention, and I will tell her “don’t worry, this too shall pass.” I cant wait!

Caroline I am: No room for negativity

I was feeling pretty low.

My anxiety had heightened and I was having difficulty breathing, so I went on my own to a beautiful Sydney look out, just under the Harbour Bridge. I was there pondering, wishing I had someone to talk to... when voila, a good friend of mine sent me a text! I opened up to him and he responded with such great advice. He listened. He understood and gave me a task. I was meant to write 21 things that I am... but I could not stop. Whether I was or not, it has to be something positive that I was or aspired to.

The list has reached 54...



1. I am vibrant and energetic and infuse my positivity upon others
2. I am brave and cease all opportunities
3. I am attracting positive people and experiences
4. I am a great sales person
5. I am academically intelligent
6. I am a fast learner
7. I am good at trivia and have vast general knowledge
8. I am a great cook
9. I am a fantastic and creative writer
10. I am a talented vocalist
11. I am a wonderful and loving daughter
12. I am proud of my past. It has made me who I am
13. I am a professional journalist
14. I am creative and always think outside the box
15. I am curious and take every opportunity I can
16. I am health conscious and respect myself
17. I am neat, tidy and organised
18. I am kind and caring
19. I am a great listener
20. I am fun to be around
21. I am funny and enjoy making people laugh
22. I am thoughtful and always look out for others
23. I am adventurous and love to learn and explore
24. I am loyal and trustworthy
25. I am a valuable member of my community
26. I am worthy of love and respect
27. I am comfortable in my own skin
28. I am a phenomenal basketball player
29. I am a confident public speaker
30. I am great at giving massages
31. I am helpful and generous
32. I am always courteous and respectful
33. I am mature
34. I am a supportive person
35. I am beautiful inside and out
36. I am an optimistic person and have a great outlook on life
37. I am outspoken and am true to myself
38. I am a woman of my word
39. I am a great gift buyer
40. I am stylish and innovative
41. I am a fun babysitter
42. I am (surprisingly) great at yoga
43. I am a fantastic traveller and love exploring
44. I am a hard worker and a good employee
45. I am dedicated to my work,family and friends
46. I am an avid reader
47. I am sentimental and appreciate the little things
48. I am patient and understanding
49. I am a good (money) saver
50. I am approachable and make friends easily
51. I am a fantastic photographer and have great eye for detail
52. I am a professional news presenter
53. I am a great mentor to my "little sister"
54. I always give great and helpful advice

Lone Traveller

Rome, Italy, 2014


I spent a day alone in New York. There were 4 of us, but on the 8th of February I told the girls that I wanted to explore the streets on my own.

“We will meet for dinner at Nanoosh on Madison at 7, okay?”

Starting off on the Avenue of The America’s, I walked from Central Park all the way to SoHo, passing about 456 Starbucks outlets, 234 Staples Stores and about 456 hot dog carts. I had that feeling where my chest felt like it was going to explode, or perhaps implode, whatever. I felt like I was drowning and I need to keep gasping to make sure I was breathing. Overwhelmed. So overwhelmed. I was taking it all in.

I walked into stores that I was not intending to buy anything from. Who cares?

I changed my mind about what to have for lunch about 30 times. So what?

I was by myself.

A policeman approached me when I was taking a photo of Radio City Music Hall.

Uh oh. Am I not allowed to be doing this?

“Girl you should be in the photo, otherwise nobody on facebook would believe that you were here, they will think that you took the picture from Google images.”

Phew!

I agreed with the policeman, and so I asked his partner to take a photo of the two of us together- and then he kissed my cheek and gave me directions to TriBeCa.

They were at Nanoosh at 7. I was running late so I hailed a cab.

_________________________________________________________________________________

I recently travelled on my own to Canada and Europe. Why alone? I really do not know. It just turned out that way.

To be frank, I did not believe that I would travel solo. Sure, I booked it on my own but I thought that someone would come with me, or at least meet me somewhere.

I invited (actually I begged) mum over and over again and her answers were always inconsistent:

- Yes okay ill come
- No I cannot I am going to Thailand for work
- Yes okay I will meet you in Barcelona
- No I have to pay for staff to cover both you and I and it will be too expensive
- Yes okay, this will be a nice experience
- No it is too cold
- Yes okay I will come but not shop just to sight see
- No I will be too tired.

So I went on my own.

It was meant to be this way. No mum, no sister, no friends…just me. I watched at the airport as loved ones took the photographs of their excited friends, relatives and lovers in front of the big DEPARTURES sign. I would have loved one, but there was nobody to take my picture.

I never pitied myself. My courage astounded me.

I was alone but I only truly felt lonely on a few occasions.

“Lonely” does not mean being alone. You can be surrounded by thousands of people and still be lonely. Lonely and alone are different. Lonely is that place in your heart, next to where you find sad. Lonely is something that your soul feels on. Being lonely means feeling disconnected from everything and everyone around you, and being misunderstood. There have been many times when I have been with many people and have felt so lonely. The pit of your stomach rises and you feel your heart slows down and beat faster simultaneously.

I felt lonely in Barcelona when I couldn’t eat an authentic Spanish Tapas meal. Tapas is a selection of small entrees, and at most restaurants you needed to order a minimum of three dishes, which was way too much food if you were by yourself. But on my last day I decided I would eat at a Tapas bar in Port Vell, even if I did not finish everything. How could I come all the way to Spain and not try it? Before attending to me, the waiter took the order of the couple next to me. Everything they ordered sounded amazing! Gumbo, potatoes, salsa, bread and salads. YUM! So I did the unthinkable.

“Should I, shouldn’t I?”
I did it. I imposed myself on them, offering to pay if I could share their meal. I forgot their names, but lets call them Clive and John. Clive was a British Airways flight attendant, and John was his partner, in Barcelona to visit him during a stop over because they had missed each other.

Shit, I totally imposed on their reunion date!

I felt lonely on the way to Rome. I sat on the plane and, albeit trying so hard to stop them, tears rolled down my face. I was lonely and alone. I yearned for somebody, anybody.

Valentines Day. I was extremely alone and lonely. Next to the Spanish Steps there was a cute teahouse, but they charged TEN EUROS for a cup, so I swiftly power walked out and sat a restaurant in the Piazza Di Spagna. What really drew me here was the “FREE WIFI” sign plastered on the wall. To my left was a young couple gazing at one another from across the table. They were not alone or lonely. Again, I intruded.

“We are from London and thought Rome would be a romantic getaway, just for Valentine’s Day, something different.”

Half your luck.

To my right were two girls, chatting enjoying a glass of wine over risotto. I wished I had someone to talk to instead of straining my neck by looking down at the screen of my iPhone, typing to someone half way across the world at what was probably a ridiculous hour.

Did I wish I could also be seated with someone? Sure!

Did I enjoy being on my own, wondering the streets, halting at every corner to take a photo? Definitely!

“Lonely” - such an ugly word. It resonates a feeling of despondency and sadness. So many people called me “crazy” and “brave” because I was alone and that was okay . This trip was not about embarking on an inner journey, or a pilgrimage or anything like that. Travelling alone was about showing the world who I was, and that even though I was alone, I could tackle its streets and converse with its people. And I did.

The world showed me that no matter where I was the nature of people was the same. I was able to see this because I was alone. I was alone so I relied heavily on the compassion of strangers. Sometimes, we could not even talk to each other, but their kindness made sure I understood. I asked for directions, instructions on how to use the metro and even tips on where to eat. Being alone meant that I was able to recognize and experience their compassion. This is why I went alone, because I loved the way the policeman made me feel when he realized that Google could provide me with images, and thought it was important that I be in my photos too. The thoughtfulness of that policeman, and everyone else made me glad to be human.

Do I want to travel with someone? Sure, of course I do, but I feel like it was necessary for me to do this on my own. I needed to restore my faith in the kindness of people and mostly restore my faith in myself. I wanted to show myself how brave and smart I was. Through the process of growing up and the struggle and heartache that has come with it I had forgotten my strength. Embarking on this amazing adventure brought it all back. I am so proud of myself. So many people told me that they would not be able to do it alone and that I was crazy. I am a little bit mad - I have to be to travel across Europe alone. I am alone sometimes but never lonely because I have myself and that is all I ever really need. I mean, I am too bad to be around…

Playtime Is Not Just for Kids

Camp counselors Doug (Lucas Connelly) and Sally (Grace De Morgan)

Remember when you were a kid, and the world was your playground? You had no fears and no inhibitions. Having fun was not an option, it was a necessity, and lets face it, your biggest worry was whether there was going to be fairy bread at the upcoming party.

Well at Camp Super Happy Sunshine Fun, camp counselors Doug (Lucas Connelly) and Sally (Grace De Morgan) wind the clock all the way back. Set in the Newtown Neighborhood Centre as part of the 2013 Sydney Fringe Festival, they aim to restore your childhood memories and experiences by recreating an outdoor camp scene (fake bonfire and all) where adults of all ages immerse themselves in activities that they took part in when they were kids.

Camp founder and director, Maya Sebestyen, got the idea to start this “adults only summer camp” whilst she was working as a camp counselor in the US.

“All the other camp counselors were really childlike. The kids would go to bed and we would be like thank God they have gone to bed, but then we would be like so dodge ball?”

Camp Super Happy Sunshine Fun runs for one and a half hours. During this time all of the participants take part in various games and activities that you would have done at summer camp including dodge ball (with marsh mellows rather than big heavy balls), tunnel ball, pirate hat making, potato Olympics and of course reciting camp cheers and chants around the bonfire. And yes, at the very end there is an honorary medal ceremony rewarding those who performed exceptionally well.

“I guess I thought that we stop doing this stuff when we are kids but it never actually stops being fun, Sebestyen says. “I think it is those teenage years where you try to grow up as fast as you can, and then you are grown up and you forget what it is like to actually be a kid.”

Kevin Acquard, a 25 year-old camper admits that when he initially realised what he was in for at Camp Super Happy Sunshine Fun, he was displeased and on the brink of turning around and heading out to the nearest bar instead.

“I was dragged to come and at the beginning I was thinking to myself what was I doing here. I just wanted to leave and go drink next door. But as soon as it all started I really got into it. The team structure of the games made them really fun and competitive and I found myself lost in them because I wanted to win. I forgot how fun they were. I had not played for years.”

There has been much sociological research on the importance of childlike play for adults, especially in today’s fast paced world.

“Our society tends to dismiss play for adults,” says psychologist and associate editor of The Importance of Play for Adults, Margarita Tartakovsky M.S. “Play is perceived as unproductive, petty or even a guilty pleasure. The notion is that once we reach adulthood, it’s time to get serious. And between personal and professional responsibilities, there’s no time to play. But play is just as pivotal for adults as it is for kids. Play brings joy. And it’s vital for problem solving, creativity and relationships.”

“It is really fun to play and I think it is really important,” continues Sebestyen. It comes really naturally to me but I know it does not come as naturally to other people but I think if you put people in this kind of environment they latch on really quickly. Even Kevin (Acquard) was like what is this, but once he got in there he was in the zone and it all totally comes back to you.”

Caroline Geroyan

Families Of Homicide Victims To Receive Nothing

At 4:30am on the 30th of May the NSW government forced through legislation, replacing the existing “Victims Support And Rehabilitation Act 1996.”

Families of some of NSW’s most gruesome homicides have been waiting for up to 2.5 years to receive the compensation amount of $50,000 that they had applied for under the NSW Victims Support Scheme. But the change of policy and new criteria means that some of these people have been caught up in the “retrospect.” A few are only eligible for a mere $15,000, whilst others stand to receive nothing.

Speaking on behalf of the NSW Homicide Victims Support Group, counselor Denise Day verifies the strife and anguish families of homicide victims are further experiencing as a result of this decision.

“We look like liars. We advised these families, in good faith, and they made decisions in good faith. Now we are forced to explain that there is no money coming and there is not a thing anyone can do about it. This good faith stands for nothing, and that is the issue.”

The new scheme offers compensation only to family members who were financially dependent on the victim. It also allows for the re-imbursement of immediate expenses directly related to the crime, such as travel costs to and from police stations or court houses, but as Denise states, applying for this is timely and many people cant even afford the initial monetary outlay to produce the invoices.

“In the old scheme a lump sum of $50,000 went to the immediate family members and dependents. It covered things like funeral expenses and travel costs. They decided how they were to spend the money. In the new scheme you need to send in invoices which means things need to be paid for upfront and some families just don’t have that kind of money. Funerals, for example, can cost up to $15,000 which is a large amount for most families.”

Sylvia Minas, whose nephew Marc Zatarian was killed by a knife wound to the heart in May 2011, had been promised a compensation amount of $50,000. After waiting two and a half years to now learn she is to be awarded nothing, Sylvia is convinced that the government has deceived her.

“The law sucks. They simply do not want to pay. Victim’s families are being hurt and being victimized even more. We have been hit with expenses and were promised money to compensate. It is not even about the money. A member of our family has been killed and this money is help for something that was not anticipated. My sister and her family have had to travel overseas numerous times to be at Marc’s funeral and court hearing, spending over $20,000 that they do not have.”

As another example of people caught in the retrospect, Executive Director of the HVSG, Martha Jabour, explains how only six families out of the eleven people of who were murdered in the 2011 nursing home fires were paid the full amount of $50,000. Because the remaining five was caught up in the backlog they now stand to receive nothing under the new scheme.

“One incident, one perpetrator. They all had their forms in at much the same time. Some families were paid in the old scheme and others have been caught up in the new scheme and get nothing. Exactly the same murder. How ludacris, how absolutely ludacris.”

“This is the issue of the retrospectivity.” Denise says.

“On the expectation of an official form that was part of the attorney general’s department, people signed it following the information they had in front of them that this will be the outcome, but with the change of government this is not the case and they have been left stranded.”


carolinegeroyan
caroline geroyan

Children's Health Up In Smoke

Cooper Cruize has been smoking since year 7. Now in year 12, he explains how he walked into the same convenience store before school every day and buying packets for himself and his friends. No questions asked.

“They knew how old I was. They knew I was a kid. It was never a hassle.”

According to ASH Australia, over 100,000 Australian school children smoke regularly and majority of smokers take up the habit well before they are adults. In response, the anti-smoking laws in Australia have been designed to make buying cigarettes impossible for people under 18. So how are so many so many kids taking up this deadly habit? Where are they getting the cigarettes?

Cooper recalls how the shopkeepers would deviously sell to him, even though they were well aware that he was an underage school student.

“They gave the cigarettes to me in a brown paper bag, like a lunch bag. The shop was in the middle of a big shopping centre and I guess they didn’t want people seeing them sell to a 12 year-old kid in a school uniform. I used to go in so often that every time they saw me they would quickly get it ready or sometimes ask me to come around the counter so that I can put it in my pocket before I walk out.”

The Cancer Council NSW is aware that tobacco retailers, especially those near schools are cashing in on the health of children like Cooper.

“This is a problem because we know from research that more people are likely to smoke when there are more places to buy tobacco. Tobacco retailers near schools make it more likely that kids will smoke.”

Ken Lin, a senior student who began buying cigarettes in year 8, describes how there is a “smoking culture” at his prestigious Northern Beaches private school.

“All the kids get their cigarettes from the same newsagent. Everyone at school knows about this place. It is so close and very convenient and very accessible. They never ask about our age even though we wear our uniforms and blazers with the school emblem on them. And the kids who buy the most are the young ones, the ones in year 7 and 8, the ones who reckon smoking is cool.

Lisa Kruize, Cooper’s mother, is undoubtedly shocked at the way these convenience stores, especially the ones near schools, are exploiting the health of children to increase their profits.

“I can’t believe it. I didn’t know Cooper smoked so young. I thought that the laws would stop him from buying cigarettes, and I don’t smoke so he couldn’t get them from me. The fact that anyone would sell to a 12 year old is beyond belief, and highly illegal!

caroline geroyan
carolinegeroyan