Greek or Australian? Or Just a Human Being

I continued searching for truth and my relationship with B deepened.

He started inviting me around regularly to listen to records and explore music. We’d chat about God, our days at work, life. He took me under his wing and I learnt so much from him.

B was and still is an eccentric cat. He doesn’t have a TV. Doesn’t have a microwave. Doesn’t have a car. He’s lived an interesting life. He’s no saint and neither was I but I liked the guy. He was genuine. He had a good heart.

He introduced me to Bombino, a guitarist from Tidene, Niger, in West Africa. B told me Bombino had taught himself to play guitar while living in exile, watching tapes of Jimi Hendrix on TV. I was amazed.

I’m writing this while listening to Agadez from Bombino’s Nomad album. I feel like I’m back in Melbourne in B’s lounge room, hearing it for the first time, sound up on vinyl. So many emotions. Another amazing album was Agadez. So much joy. I feel so alive revisiting these memories. Nine years has gone so quick.

He also introduced me to Toumani Diabaté, a famous Kora player from Mali. A must-listen album is The Mandé Variations. So much heart. So much soul. I highly recommend it. Whenever I’d crash on the couch after staying up all night talking, B would put it on — and I’d fall asleep instantly.

This was around the same time Leonard Cohen passed away. I arrived at work one morning and B told me,

“Mate, Leonard Cohen’s dead.”

And I said,

“Who’s Leonard Cohen?”

He just looked at me and said,

“My place after work mate on the vinyl.”

I laughed and said, “No worries.”

I still listen to Leonard Cohen today. B told me that for all his sad stuff, Cohen had a massive dancefloor hit called First We Take Manhattan. I still enjoy that track as much as when I first heard it.

B enjoyed fully imported beers from Europe — Peroni, Stella, Budva.

It was a requirement that we drive past a certain bottle-o to get the “real stuff.”

“None of that Australian-brewed shit,” as he put it.

B also introduced me to Bliss n Eso, a hip hop group from Australia. Their music was powerfully raw, poetic, uplifting. B had been listening to them since their early days and he told me he noticed a big shift in their sound and message over time.

“They’ve had an awakening,” he said. “You can tell, they started putting wings on all their albums from a certain point.”

That shift began with the album Flying Colours. My favourite albums are Circus in the Sky and Off the Grid

One evening, over a soup B had made, I brought up something I’d been wrestling with. I told him I wasn’t sure if I felt more Greek or more Australian. I’d had a strict, traditional Greek upbringing but I was so Aussie. B had a Yugoslavian background. I asked him what he thought, was he Yugoslavian or Aussie?

He looked at me and laughed: “Mate, I’m a human being.”

I looked at him and smiled.

So true.

I’m pretty into disco, funk, and house music and one of my favourite albums is Soulmatic by Purple Disco Machine.

The whole album is a masterpiece.

I bought B a CD so he and his partner could enjoy it together when she came around on Fridays. They loved to dance.

The next week he told me how much she loved it, and that while they danced, they both yelled out, “Thank you, Chris!”

It’s so funny thinking of that moment now.

All heart.

This rhythm continued for another year until I left and got a job elsewhere.

Before I moved on, B hosted a farewell for me at his place. Ten of us gathered for an amazing night of vegetarian food, music, and warmth.

It was fitting saying goodbye at a function in his lounge room, where so much of my journey had begun.

We don’t see each other much anymore but the connection is strong.

And I still carry those nights with me.