Homecoming: Eudaimonia

As soon as I heard the familiar announcement of “boarding completed,” I found myself wondering if I had everything needed for my return home. I patted my pockets for my phone, laptop, and passport. Check, check, check. However, this time, I had one more thing to make I didn’t leave behind: my teammates and coaches. This summer, they were going to experience my home in Greece, and I had the chance to introduce them to a different version of myself that I’d never been able to show away from home.

While I was excited to showcase my heritage, I was nonetheless anxious. I kept worrying that they might not enjoy the place or understand the specific lifestyles we treasure. I felt burdened with ensuring they had the best time possible.

However, as we approached Athens, this nervousness quickly faded. Looking around at my team, I saw the same excitement on everyone’s faces. My nerves gave way to my eagerness to share a part of my life that shaped who I am today.

Without my coaches’ decision to take this summer trip abroad, none of this would have been possible. I was thrilled to learn that they intended to “bring me home,” as NCAA regulations allow collegiate athletic teams to travel wherever they choose every four years.

Though many international students feel homesick, my busy schedule as a student-athlete only makes attending university far from home even harder. The seven-hour time difference between Boston and Athens makes it nearly impossible to consistently communicate with family, especially when practice times often fall during the short windows I could call my parents. Thus, this trip represented more than a flight across the Atlantic. 

As a rising junior, I have already spent two years attending college on a different continent, and even though I have found friends and activities to keep this new life happy, my longing for home deepens. My brother and parents are like my closest friends. Watching my friends drive a few hours up the coast to their hometowns reminds me how difficult it is to not be able to do the same. As a result, trips such as this are especially crucial for international student-athletes. Not only do we get to spend time with our family once more, but we also get to show the team we love our home.

Naturally, the first thing on our itinerary was a visit to my house. As we drove up the roads that defined my childhood, my anticipation bubbled over. I started pointing out landmarks I used to judge how many minutes from home I was to my 30-plus teammates and coaches. I could smell my mother’s signature recipes even though we were a few miles away—though I was simultaneously waiting and praying for her cooking as she was now tasked with feeding a whole team of hungry collegiate athletes. I knew, of course, that she was up for the task—that is what Greeks do! 

Feeling the bus come to a stop, I immediately jumped out, impatient to lead everyone through my front door. It was eerie how familiar yet alien the whole process felt: I was home, but instead of Greek, I was speaking English. Instead of simply dropping my bags and rushing to the living room, I found myself conducting a mini tour of the neighborhood that younger me had spent hours exploring.

While my childhood shaped who I am today, my time in college, away from home, has been just as important. Here, I could bring both sides together. My last fears were quelled as everyone enjoyed the food my mom prepared. 

In Greece, sharing food and sitting at a table for hours is one of the many ways to really connect with someone. For us, a “rich” table symbolizes appreciation and hospitality. With every bite, it seemed like a different person was asking a question, whether about the food, the neighborhood, or my family. They took a particular liking to Pastichio and Mousaka, two traditional Greek dishes, and some of my favorites. If I were asked to give a couple of titles for this trip, the day we spent together eating would definitely have the word “unity.” 

The most thrilling and unfamiliar part of my homecoming was experiencing my country as a tourist. One thing I know for sure is that I never would have imagined myself at the Parthenon or on the Acropolis outside a field trip at 10 or 12 years old. I still found myself in awe of the ancient artifacts that hold so much memory, history, and value to Greek culture alongside my now-foreign-to-Greece teammates. Learning about your own culture through a tourist’s eyes is a different experience. I felt like I was traveling through time and experiencing our country’s history as an ancient Greek citizen myself. It made me realize that to value your culture, sometimes you have to act like you don’t know anything about it. Put your pride aside and acknowledge that being part of it doesn’t mean you know everything. Read, explore, and visit the places that are so-called common for you.

My favorite part of the trip was our game day in Aghia Paraskevi. We played at the same gym where I spent six years of my basketball career in Greece. Moreover, we were playing against G.S Agia Paraskevi, the same club team I once played for. Basketball continues to define my life, and while I now bleed Crimson, I can never forget my time with my hometown team—including playing for the Greek national team at just 12, being recruited by some of the top American universities, and committing to attend the best: Harvard.

I was coming back to play, but this time I wore a large letter H, not Aghia Paraskevi. The little girl inside me with so many dreams was excited, and I found myself tapping my leg nervously. Little did I know that this night would turn out to be something even more special to me.

Before the game started, the announcer introduced me as a player and highlighted my accomplishments with the team, as well as achievements with the national team that shaped who I am as a player. Looking around the gym, I saw my family and closest friends; to the right, my team and coaches huddled around me; and to the left, important figures in Greek basketball waiting to honor me for my years at the club. 

I could not help it—tears started rolling down my face. I was overwhelmed by satisfaction, gratitude, and happiness. It was almost as if I was experiencing eudaimonia at that moment. The time when “then” meets “after” in the present, offering a sense of peace and purpose. It was a full-circle moment that made me realize how important it is to remember and appreciate where you come from in order to move forward. All my favourite people in a place so important to who I was and who I have become, I take a moment to myself. I appreciate how far I have come and how much further I will go, carrying the memories of everything that shaped who I am today.

This trip also taught me how important it is to share your history and culture with your teammates and coaches. It is not just about bringing you closer to one another, but also about allowing others into your life and sharing the experiences that have shaped you. Allowing your team to get to know all versions of yourself and form deeper connections. As athletes, these connections translate onto the court, leading to better collaboration, greater trust, and, ultimately, championships. But beyond being an athlete, I realized that letting people know your story and understanding where you come from matters, simply as a person. Sometimes, letting others into your life is what allows you to build the kind of connections that stay with you beyond the hours you spend on the court.

Lydia Chatira ’28 (lydiachatira@college.harvard.edu), who is probably at practice while you’re reading this.