This was written on my first week back from the island of Lesvos.
As always, I wake at night (a symptom of menopause) but this week, my first back from the Lesvos I wake and feel the air, sound and energy of the women’s festival. The chat, laughter and sea of lesbians. I wake and I’m there, the warm night air, the sea sitting at our shoulder, the music inviting us all in and onto the dance floor, the sea waiting in anticipation for a late night skinny dip. I see the many faces, lesbians from across the world, well healed sisters, activists in camps and those that live locally on the island.
I’ve been going to the island since I was 25, 30yrs ago, a young lesbian in search of a place of refuge, one where we could be free to be whoever we wanted, sort of.
Why was I there? The festival has been going for 18 years and I’ve never been, I thought if I were to go, it has to be with the band I have been playing with for the past 21yrs, The Camp Vamps; (lesbian punk/performance/rock ‘n’ roll band) and I also took Key Change filmed in front of a live audience to show as part of the festival. We travel as a package holiday, the wife, as well as running a women’s centre, a compère and one of our chosen family DJ Sue, a package of talent from the North of England, brilliant.
So, what happened? The band, I believe, went down a storm; we are a shock to audiences at first, as we mess with your head in terms of gender/sexuality and we’re flirtatious and celebratory, with a sting that hold politics. It was so great and weird to be there with the band, the majority hadn’t been to the island before, and they, like me and the wife, fell in love with it. The first week was a holiday with the wife, band and our chosen family, we walked up mountains (statue in tow), danced, drank, ate and swam in the Aegean Sea, woke, gathered and did it all over again.
The second week, the band and chosen family left and then it was me and the wife.
Key Change (filmed in front of a live audience) was screened the Monday in the open-air cinema. I was anxious whether the technology would work (it’s not my strength), but with the help of Wendy Jenson, sound and visual eclipsed the star filled sky above. However, I learnt there’s a push and pull of politics with the festival, this results in a clash in programming and my anxiety bubbles, I want an audience, even a small one. Liz Turnell (who championed the company and play to be part of the festival) has been handing out flyers all day so we cross fingers and wait. Then at 9.10pm they start to arrive, 9.30pm, 100 women sit and wait.
The lights dim and the stars twinkle, my wife holds my hands and my anxiety sits next to me on the chair and puts its feet up, I relax (sort of). Characters Kim, Kelly, Angie and Lucy turn to look out at their audience, this time on the island of Lesvos. Stories like carpets unfold and this new international audience of mainly lesbians step into the shoes of the women incarcerated in HMP Low Newton back in 2014. The actors take their final bow and this audience joins the audience of 2017, they clap and some stand, others wipe tears and 20+ women stay behind for a post-show discussion.
I’ve asked Cookie Arnone to join the panel/discussion, Cookie is a volunteer working with those seeking asylum/refuge, living in camps on the other side of the island. Cookie supports all in the camps but focuses on LGBT, plus women and children, working to raise funds for houses, bus tickets as well asking for dignity/respect for those seeking asylum. I think it’s an opportunity to make connections between those who are criminalised/incarcerated in prisons and those trapped in camps.
As I said above I’ve been coming to Lesvos since I was 25, a young lesbian, three decades of visiting the island and Scala Eressos. There are many of us here of a similar age, once young, who travelled here because it was a refuge, a place where we could be ourselves, hold hands, kiss and meet other lesbians and the reality for us now is that there are 10,000 people living in terrible conditions on the other side of the island. It can mess with your head, as not to come isn’t an option or the answer but there are many lesbians, locals and visitors that are active, involved. There are big conversations, hard issues shared but an agreement that this type of discussion is needed at the festival.
As the discussion draws to an end and we stand to leave to the bars nearby, two women talk to me about their despair that conversations about domestic violence are always about the men, male to female, and ask ‘what about women, they are even worse, women perpetrators are in the majority’. The pain comes from a reality of abuse at the hands of women. I try to explain that Open Clasp looks at this abuse too, have done with A Twist of Lemon, Love Should Never Be Abusive and with our show Sugar touring in 2019. But the pain is too much, and they leave. I’m concerned I’ve not communicated well, that I should’ve acknowledged domestic violence in the LGBT community too, but others say this night is looking at male violence to women, and this is ok, and I know it is, but I still feel concerned. I’m also acutely aware there is no helpline numbers for people who live on the island (culturally you can’t talk about it, reach out and even if you did there is nothing to reach out to, no helplines, nothing). I hadn’t thought about helplines (as we normally do at home) and it’s an oversight, and its mine, and I take the lesson and learn. Having no helplines or places to go, gets me and the wife thinking about what we could do on our return, what could we offer regarding Safe4Life courses via West End Women & Girls Centre, films made by Open Clasp. This is now on the list of ‘what next’.
Back to my first week back and when I wake, I wake and I’m back there a sea of lesbians, the chatter in the bars, talking and laughing. I feel the night air wraps its arms around us, cool and yet warm. The sweet September skies, silver backed fish fly and a sea that sparkles diamonds all day long. It’s the special moments I love, snatched conversations that result in life changing moments or confirm our love or allows us to stop and cry. It’s my chosen family, those new to join and having an opportunity to watch those I love happy, healthy and alive, all of us with our eyes wide open.
During my first week back, I see posts from a friend who has just gone out, he takes photographs of quiet, empty beaches and sand resting in the autumn air. Another new friend post photos of visiting swans, the rock and tells us about storms that have blown in. I see the bonny lights of bars, closing parties, Flamingos flying and sad/warm hearts embracing.
The echo of Lesvos fades as the week moves into the weekend, and I still wake but now it’s mainly work and lists, but I try hard to see the swans, feel the night air and hear the laughter of many lesbians on the island of Lesvos.
Catrina McHugh MBE
Sources of Information and Support
Galop: LGBT+ anti-violence charity. o800 9995428
National Domestic Violence Helpline: 24 hour support service for women. 0800 200247
Karma Nirvana: a UK charity that supports victims and survivors of forced marriage and Honour Based Abuse. 0800 5999247
Freephone Rape Crisis England & Wales: Provides support and services for women & girls who’ve experienced sexual violence. 0800 8029999
Childline: Free, confidential support service for under 19 year olds. 0800 1111
