"GREEK BABIES FOR ADOPTION”: FINDING MY ROOTS
"GREEK BABIES FOR ADOPTION”: FINDING MY ROOTS
Description
The only thing Karin knew about her origin was that she had been adopted from Greece in 1963, after being found on the doorstep of an orphanage in Athens. That was until she started looking for the true story behind her adoption. Karin never expected what she would discover.
Part of Collections
11 Podcasts
THIS IS ATHENS
Tags
Credits
Interviewee
- Karin Abeles
Interview by
- Xaris Pagwnidou
Podcast Producer
- Xaris Pagwnidou
Sound Designer
- Iasonas THeofanou
Sound Editor
- Giwrgos Gkanidhs
Cinematographer
- Aleksandros Papathanasopoulos
My name is Karin and I was a foundling from “Mitera”. I was told by my adoptive parents that I was left on a doorstep, and somebody rang a bell, and a doctor came out and a woman was seen running away. I don't know.
My mother worked in the British Library in Lagos, in Nigeria. And there was an American magazine and at the back of the American magazine was an advert and it said: “Mitera, babies, Greek babies for adoption.” They couldn't have children, so she told my father: “We're going to adopt.” And he said: “No, we're not.” OK. She said: “Don't worry”, and she just wrote the letter anyway and sent it to “Mitera”. And it came back saying: “You have to have a financial statement to prove that you are able to look after the children, and also to give a donation.”
So, my parents adopted a child in 1961, and gave the home 6,000 drachma in that time. Then, when they went back two years later to adopt me, they gave the home 10,000 drachma. So, definitely money changed hands, but my mother wanted babies. And that was the most important thing.
So, as soon as they adopted me, we flew to Nigeria, and I spent all of my childhood in… somewhere. In Nigeria, Kenya, Seychelles, Australia, a little bit of London, some Scotland, all over the world. And I had a great life.
I have always known I was adopted. My parents told me from as soon as I could talk: “You are from Greece, you are from Athens, and you are special, and we couldn't have babies and you are from Athens.” I always knew.
When I was twenty, I decided to come to Athens to look, to see where I came from. I have adoption papers which say: “Papadopoulos, foundling” and a birthday of 1st of January 1963.
My mother was already dead before I started. In fact, she was the reason when she died that I thought: “Νow I haven't got a mother, this is… no, I don't like this situation very much. Μaybe there is another mother.” My father is, was a very educational man. Education was important, more practical, less emotional. And he would say things like: “Listen, if I didn't adopt you, you might be selling oranges somewhere. Look where you are now!” And I said: “Well, I can also sell oranges as well. It's fine.” But he's, he was very supportive of me coming to Athens, but he was already seventy, so he wasn't going to come with me, but he said: “Please, go”.
So, I found my way to “Mitera” in Athens, and I was met by a lady who spoke English and I told her who I was and why I had come, to find out more about who I was. And she told me to go away. She said: “Please, don't come here, don't come back here, we don't want you here. Your mother has another life. Please, please, leave.” So, I said: “Look, I've come all this way, maybe I can just have a look around and then I will go.” So, I had a look around and I could have taken every one of those babies home. Anyway, I left. I went back to the UK, and I had my own family. I have four beautiful children and I just got on with my life.
In 2019, my children bought me a DNA test and so I did it and it told me I was a little bit Greek, a little bit from Sardinia, a bit of Albania... something. But nothing else. There was maybe a DNA match for a third or a fifth cousin, nothing close. Then last year, in February 2021, I did a different DNA test with a different DNA company and on the 18th of March it came back saying: “Congratulations, you have a DNA match!” And I thought: Yeah, third cousin, fifth cousin again. And it said: “brother”. I was... It was unbelievable. I turned everything off, turned the whole computer off, it was definitely a mistake. I turned it all back on and it was true.
So, this brother was in the Netherlands. How is that? How are you in the Netherlands? And you were younger than me. So, I sent him a message and I said: “Dear Mark, who are you? How is this possible?” And he came back pretty quickly, and he said: “You, we must be half siblings. My mother only had two boys.” I thought: OK, it's something. I realized very quickly that was my family, we looked so similar, we all looked the same.
We came to Athens, and I met my brother Mark. Amazing. It was like looking at myself in a mirror, it was beautiful. Then we went to Mitera to have a look around the home and they gave me my file. For the first time, they actually said I had a file. So, I was born on the 21st of December 1962 and my name was Maria. But my name on my adoptive papers is Karen Maria, so they must, somebody must have known something.
Then I was told that my mother had been told about me and she didn't want to see me, and I was really upset, and I thought: OK, I'm gonna see my brother anyway. So, the next day we arranged to meet my brother and he was very excited when he heard about me. He danced around the table, he was... always wanted a sister and it was just lovely. And then I heard the story about what happened, why my mother was so upset when she heard about me and didn't want to see me.
So, when I was born, her parents didn't want to know and they didn't want her, so she went to live in somebody's shed in the garden with me in December-January time and I got very sick, she got very sick, I got very sick, and it was really dire. So, they got a priest to baptize me and give me a name and register the birth, because she said I would go in an unmarked grave if I died. Then my father came home with my brother, and I was not moving, and I was very sick, and my mother said: “She's dying”. And my father said: “Well, we can't leave her to die. We have to do something.”
So, they took me, my brother, my father, and his brother took me to Mitera, banged on the gates until the doctor came out and then they ran away. But my mother dressed me in a little dress with rabbits on it and she put a note to say who I was, my name, and so they knew exactly who I was. When they went back to find me –I'm not sure exactly of the timing of this– they were told I had died. The dress that I had worn was washed and folded and put to one side and I wasn't there anymore, so she thought I died. She was told I had died.
So, now, I'm, after fifty-eight years, I've turned up and she's like beside herself. It's a really big thing. Anyway, I met her, and it was amazing.
And, my mother, when I met her, was full of guilt and sad and I don't know if… shame. Because she had a baby and now, she doesn't have a baby. And what happened to the baby? Could she have done something? Did she do something wrong? I don't know, but she was really very sad and when I first met her, she really cries. But we… It was, like, so nice to be next to her and to tell her it was OK, and I didn't have any animosity and I didn't have any bad feelings, I was just so pleased that she now knew I hadn't died and I was OK. And I hope I’ll spend lots of time with her now.
My adoptive mother was loving, very kind, very loving. Always had me close to her. She desperately, desperately wanted children and she loved having children. It was important. My real mother said to me she wanted to say “thank you” to my adoptive mother because she looked after her little baby for her and did a good job.
So, this journey has made me somebody else. It's made me real. I have a name and I have a birthday. And I'm now not what somebody tells me, I am a real person. It's a fantastic journey and a good ending, a really good ending.