Tipos de misiones militares

Following a violent sweep operation, the migrant trio are thrown onto the street. A shaky handheld camera observes from a distance in a point of view shot as though someone is observing and preparing to give the final blow (fig. 7.1.1). The impression is sinister. The migrants are no longer hiding, but exposed to the public eye and to CCTV cameras, replaced by the cinematic apparatus. Here is thus a paradox in the discussion on hospitality: while hospitality does not advocate that migrants remain in the margins, visibility, which is required for hospitality, is linked to surveillance and the dispossession of privacy and thus to the persecution of migrants through a technological apparatus that is the product of ideologies of oppression. As Derrida argues, "the blessing of visibility and daylight is also what the police and politics demand" (2000: 57). In order to distinguish a parasite from a guest, one needs visibility and surveillance methods. The migrants are parasites as the sweep operation suggests. Seconds later, they come into the gaze of a Greek man, observing quietly at the unsettling events.

A close-up on the man reveals his curious and precarious stare. His facial expression seems to engross a sense of embarrassment as he looks down and back up at the half naked Thomas with an emotive appeal and an inviting gaze (fig. 7.1.2). A close-up on Thomas fetishizes his masculine features - dark skin and eyes, fit body, wet hair and mysterious gaze. He stares back at the man with a look that is anything but surprised. The scene carries many connotations and questions. Is this Greek man responsible for the sweep operation? It was not uncommon in residential neighbourhoods that citizens would alert the police at the presence of Albanians in the streets, often claiming that they are distributing drugs and stealing (Psimmenos, 2001: 146-154). Police would then perform a sweep operation. It may be the case that this man lured the migrants to the street, making it thus easier for him to "capture" them. Could he be a hustler seeking handsome young strangers who, being presumably desperate and homeless, will satisfy the host? The absence of dialogue, the darkness of the street, the urgency of the moment and the sudden mysterious exchange of looks generate suspense and trepidation. What other calamities await the migrants? Interestingly, what is missing from this scene is the invitation which leads to hospitality.

Cut to an establishing shot of the crammed interior of the Greek household, in a brightly lit kitchen where the migrants share a meal provided by the middle class Greek host (fig.7.1.3). The sudden shift of scenery generates a humorous effect. We surely did

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not expect to see the migrants in an Athenian house without looking behind their backs especially after an outburst of violence and an unsettling exchange of silent looks.

They eat in silence. The host stands behind Thomas, appearing to be monitoring his guests with anticipation. In the claustrophobic kitchen, the camera is poised behind Nikos demonstrating Achilles and Thomas seated and the host standing over them observing from a height (fig. 7.1.4). This is the only shot that explores the interior of the kitchen. Thomas gestures with his glass and the host offers him more water. From the establishing shot of the kitchen, we turn to a close-up of Thomas and Achilles at the table. Thomas takes his glass without uttering a word. Achilles bends down to pick up a piece of bread from the floor. The host's hand appears in the frame and quickly stops Achilles and hands him another piece. He literally grabs Achilles' hand and inserts in it the fresh slice. The scene is awkward. Is this kind of approach too close and inappropriate? The impression is arguably so, especially as Achilles seems confused gazing at Thomas, spaghetti hanging from his mouth. The feeling of awkwardness reaches a nearly comic impression. The host's gesture and overall stance is paternalistic, particularly since he is standing over Achilles, implying a superior hierarchy and a sense of subordination respectively. One can see this hierarchy practiced in the various aforementioned gestures. The anonymity of the host furthermore reinforces his allegorical function as master of the house, a stereotypical Greek middle class male and aspiring patron of migrants.

The environment becomes increasingly tense and awkward within the crammed-up space. The Greek house seems already as an uncomfortable prison-like interior rather than the breathing space of hospitality, welcoming and accommodating. This small and seemingly old kitchen is one of thousands of Athenian tenement flats. The interior encapsulates the sensation of a densely populated city, situated according to an anarchic urban planning scheme.

Figure 7.1.1: A point of view shot of the panicked migrants

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The impression of confinement and an awkward pairing is reinforced as the host begins to reveal his true colours in his phrase "it will not hurt you to say thank you". This is the first indication of conditional hospitality, in other words of expectations articulated by the host who however does not have the nerve to exert his power entirely. Nikos thanks the host who nevertheless seems incorrigible and frustrated. This is more of an uncomfortable coexistence since both sides are reluctant and defensive; it is yet another suggestion on the coexistence of indigenous Greeks and Northern Epirotes - uncomfortable, awkward and even tragically funny, judging by the host's childish behaviour.

The host is increasingly eager for reciprocation from his guests as he points at each one: "So, did I get it right, Achilles, Nikos and Thomas? And which one of you is the leader?" Achilles looks at Thomas as though hoping for an answer while the host, left with no alternative than to sulk, answers back "not very talkative are we" and exits the room. Goritsas alludes to a stereotype of a pitiful Greek man who struggles in vain to assert his power onto the migrants but eventually resembles an awkward and incapable boss who is undeserving of any gratitude. He is a symbol of the average middle class Greek male of the 1990s, insecure, petty and aspiring, struggling in vain to feel superior - a satire of his gender and class.

We need to emphasize at this point the emergence of conditional hospitality, since the host not only asks for his guest's names but seeks for a confirmation. This is domestic surveillance and an awkward attempt at asserting hierarchy, since after all he does not share his own name. The host opens his door to the migrants but needs to be sure of whom he allows into his home and thus needs to monitor his guests. Derrida argues that asking one's name and family name is what binds the guest and what makes traditional hospitality possible "because hospitality [...] is not offered to an anonymous new arrival and someone

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who has neither name nor patronym, nor family, nor social status [...]" (2000: 21-23). To offer however hospitality to an 'absolute other', someone without name or family name, is the first indication of unconditional hospitality which, according to Derrida's dictum, is hospitality without reciprocity and an oppressive ideology that binds the guest and which is the foundation of hostility within hospitality. The foreigner therefore "is someone with whom, to receive him, you begin by asking his name; you enjoin him to state and guarantee his identity, as you would a witness before a court. This is someone to whom you put a question and address a demand, the first demand, the minimal demand being: 'what is your name?'" (ibid.: 21-23) The Greek host has already acquired the names of the foreigners. Apparently, he needs a double confirmation, particularly as he can see that he does not receive gratitude in return. He needs to reinforce thus his sense of superiority.

In the following scene guests and host are seated in a living room watching TV (fig. 7.1.5). The host sits on an armchair while to his left, the migrants are seated on a sofa. Nikos sits between his surrogate parents, both of whom are too tall for the short and narrow sofa and low ceiling, the confined interior making them seem comically larger. The establishing shot of this surrogate family is arguably out of place, underlining an awkward coexistence but also the taboo notion of a queer surrogate family. While this impression is indeed suggestive of an unsettling coexistence with negative implications, Goritsas implies that indigenous and migrant populations cannot eventually coexist.

For their entertainment, the host is playing a video of a Bud Spencer and Terrence Hill Western. The guests laugh at the slapstick humour on screen. In yet another attempt to please his guests, and possibly oblige them, he tracks the film backwards to repeat the scene. They look back at him annoyed and confused, with awkward silence. Apparently irritated and incorrigible, the host shouts back "okay okay, ease up. I won't do it again". Arguably, he is entirely incapable of accommodating his guests who seem more self sufficient and at ease than him. In other words, the guests are more composed and "at home" within the host's sovereign space. He sits down and sighs loudly, gets up again and leaves the room in a restless mood. In the meantime, the migrants remain unsympathetic towards his words and gestures. The awkward sensation has given way to suspense as it is apparent by now that we are observing the perverse reversal of hospitality as the host transforms to hostage. This is not to suggest that indeed the migrants are violating the Greek household or being even remotely hostile. But they do not conform to the obvious expectations of the host which include an indication of servitude. Derrida exposes the underlying meaning of this argument: "I want to be master at home [...] to be able to

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receive whomever I like there. Anyone who encroaches on my 'at home' [...], I start to regard as an undesirable foreigner, and virtually as an enemy. This other becomes a hostile subject, and I risk becoming their hostage" (2000: 53-54).

The host leaves the room and calls out to Achilles to join him. Thomas stands up and stops Achilles. He pauses, looks back at his companions reassuringly and proceeds to the other room. Achilles and Nikos continue watching the film. Nikos, inquisitive and excited, grabs the remote control and rewinds the film. Achilles Partakes in the pleasure of technological discovery and rewinds the videotape in slow motion (fig. 7.1.6). They both laugh, gazing at the scene with wanderlust. Nikos grabs the device and tries out for himself to rewind in slow motion. This is a scene of wishful thinking and of the discovery of the colour television, one of the commodities that Albanians would only imagine, as kapllani elucidates:

Some of the group, mainly the younger boys, went and pressed their faces up against the window of a nearby cafe. They were gawping in astonishment at the colour television and the images it transmitted [...]. Some of our group just stood there, glued to the TV screen through the cafe window [...]. This was also part of the fantasy we carried with us (2010: 30).

The scene evokes the playfulness and superficial joy portrayed in television ads. Nikos and Achilles immerse themselves in the pleasures of capitalism and technology which the more inclusive and developed West would provide, according to the Eldorado model of the migrant imagination. They both seem enchanted by the wonder and fascination of a Greek middle class household commodity. Television, free from communist propaganda and censorship, was marketed as a technological wonder that brought entertainment and a source of ease into the domestic space (Spigel, 1997).

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Arguably, this is one of the pleasures of the fatherland that they sought to discover and make their own and which proves to be an ephemeral and artificial source of joy, yet another stop in the trajectory of the journey. It is the utopia of a 1990s Greek middle class household, bound by conditional hospitality. This is what makes it a capitalist utopia. Triandafyllidou and Veikou elaborate on the Athenian middle class utopia: "Athens, however, is envisaged by many as the 'promised land' because it offers the potential fulfilment of economic needs and an outlet for the 'accumulated longing' - especially for Greek Albanians - to live in a 'modern, western-type society" (2002: 195).

This short lived moment of prosperity and familial delight is quickly over as Thomas and host get into a fight. The latter shouts to Thomas "get out of here, you and your friends" and pretends to be calling the police. "could you please come to my house, yes I have a serious problem. yes Albanians". Achilles and Nikos run and separate the fighting pair. Erratic camera movement generates suspense, as we switch from one person to the next, the immigrants on the left of the frame facing to the right the host. Suspense and trepidation emerge in contrast to the ease and tranquillity of watching TV on the sofa at which point the camera is static and editing conventional. This is overall suggestive of a confrontation, a notion that is enhanced by the setting of the characters on the left and right sides of the frame. We can observe how framing suggests a confrontation between Greek(s) and Northern Epirotes, the solidarity between the migrants and the discord of the Greek who is alone on his side of the "boxing ring" (fig. 7.1.7).

Indeed, the awkward environment and overall sense of ease have given way to a direct confrontation transforming the domestic interior into a claustrophobic space of

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conflict within which the Greek-Albanian confrontation is summarized down to its basic components. The host calls Thomas pitiful. However, it is the host who is pitiful once again. He is a scheming man without courtesy and generosity, courage or power of domination. On the one hand he seeks to offer hospitality and on the other is too insecure and clumsy to make his guests feel at home. He imposes his conditions but is too weak to do so to the fullest extent, applying thus inadequate and awkward means in order to make his guests conform to his expectations, leading thus to an inevitable hostage situation and a struggle to dominate or break free from the constraints imposed by the host and guests conversely. The host's ambivalence and overall pettiness, suggestive of a petty and inefficient state policy, underline "the bewilderment of the local middle class before such unexpected strangers" (Karalis, 2012: 234).

Before their departure Thomas articulates the plight of Northern Epirotes. "It's alright. He wanted Albanians to do all the work without paying a dime". The host offered Thomas work (albeit of a very questionable nature) without wages, possibly with conditional hospitality in return - a new age slavery. The gaze of the migrant reveals the ideological landscapes of the Greek middle classes, of individuals seeking to obtain a managerial and superior role in the time of European reform. It exposes the pettiness and hostility of a class of people who react with ineptness before their unexpected strangers. They were invited into the home, offered a meal and leisure time in the household but treated as pariahs, revealing the state of affairs between Greeks and Northern Epirotes on a national scale. The words of Thomas echo the exploitation of Albanians. According to the field research of Lazaridis (1999: 110), Northern Epirotes had a more privileged life in Greece while Albanians were entirely excluded and exploited, forming the "helots of the new millennium" (ibid.: 111). Lazaridis concludes that racist discourses endorsed the notion that Albanians should be treated as slaves, denied any of the legal and social rights that the Greek labour force enjoy. As a result, stereotypes emerged, justifying exploitation of Albanians. "For instance, the expression 'I am not your Albanian' that is, 'I am not your slave', is often used by Greeks to refuse a job which is seen as menial and underpaid" (ibid.: 118).

Thomas apparently is familiar with the stereotype. Arguably, the host, thinking that the migrants are Albanian (after all one cannot distinguish between them based on appearance), considers it a given that Albanians will do work under any conditions and no wages. However, Thomas seems to agree with this principle, for, judging by his own conviction, it is a given that Albanians do work without receiving a dime. His final words

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reveal that exactly because the migrants are Greek, only Albanians can do the kind of work that the host proposed.

"In Albania they called us Greeks. Here they call us Albanians" Thomas continues. This final statement summarizes the sense of disillusionment that the migrants experienced in Greece, the unfortunate realization that they are not "one of us" and reinforces the nationalist predilection that set repatriation into operation. On the contrary, they are Albanians, which, from their reaction, seems as a dreadful misunderstanding. Their frustration is not entirely irrational. It emerges in relation to a more favourable treatment that Ethnic Greeks received. The local media endorsed this approach to the "good" Ethnic Greek, the "poor" victims of Albanian criminals, in Albania and Greece. Triantafyllidou and Veikou (2002: 200) discuss how "the headlines of the newspapers were often explicit: 'Albanians kill and rob people from Northern Epirus'" [...]. Certain newspapers (Apogevmatini, Eleftherotypia, Mesimvrini) supported the return of Ethnic Greeks to Greece relying on a ubiquitous possessive pronoun, excluding Albanians from the offset.

Goritsas reveals indeed a rivalry between Ethnic Greeks and Albanians, affirming historical facts but reinforcing the notion that unpaid work is exclusively for Albanians and that to be misled for an Albanian is casus belli, articulated on the same premises that exclusion and inclusion play out, those of "ethnic descent, language, common historical memories, and/or links with historic homelands and culture" (Triantafyllidou & Veikou, 2002: 201). The migrants expect to be identified by the host according to their ethnicity, not their names. This is yet one more pitfall of the film - an overreliance on ethnicity that affirms its essentialist appeal. Goritsas criticizes the Greek state and the Greek middle class host, but does not question Greek ethnicity since the "punch line" of this scene is the very notion of belonging in the Greek nation. While Goritsas articulates a polemical statement against the mechanisms of national identity and identification he reinforces them since the film highlights that Northern Epirotes were not strangers but "one of us" a notion that once again affirms the implications of the possessive pronoun. Before assuming any notion of belonging, we need to consider that any such notion is imagined as much as is the location of such belonging, as Anderson has so forcefully argued. This is yet another essentialism that Goritsas overlooks. While he articulates the plight of Northern Epirotes, he does so on