You know when you’re born in a certain country and for some reason you have a massive issue with it and your only saving grace is that you don’t look typically like the rest of the population and you spend your early years, from ages six onwards, really, fantasising that you’re from somewhere else and were kidnapped as a young child and were brought there, then try to culturally appropriate other nations, starting with France, then the UK, then America, until you find yourself at 34 living 7,000 miles away from where you were brought up, with a different passport, a different name, a fake accent and not having spoken to person who grew up with the same mother tongue as you since 1997?
I have now received the results of the DNA test I recently did to discover my genetic / national ancestry. If we remember, I just wanted to have some Northern European DNA in me. I wanted to have some proof that I’d been adopted, and I wanted some explanation as to why I have blue eyes and pale skin and I’m not hirsute in a Middle Eastern way. I’m afraid I aimed too high. I’m afraid that I am, genetically speaking, the most Greek person that has ever lived on the planet. I’m afraid that my results are these:
I am only 0.5% “Broadly Northern European”. I am ready to die.
I am 74.3% Balkan (the peninsula where Greece is located) which is a pretty massive percentage, really fucking homogeneous, and a real shock result in a day and age where everyone is a mix of something. Not I. My ancestors appear to have only fucked people within a 10-mile radius and that’s about it. A further 12.9% of me is “Broadly Southern European” (which really means that they couldn’t identify which part of Greece that 12.9% comes from, let’s be honest) and there is also a 10.9% Italian, which I’m choosing to ignore because it’s only causing me to vomit uncontrollably.
Now, of course if I have to try to find a way to spin this, and I’m gonna, I can latch on to the modern Greek delusion that Ancient Greeks were fair, blond, and blue-eyed, and that the reason why Greeks look like they do now is a result of ethnic mixing with other (inferior) populations, and in particular Turks, who occupied Greece for 400 years, after all, and we’re pretty sure were fucking everyone left, right, and centre during that time. (I wouldn’t, because I’d rather die celibate than have sex with a Greek person, but those guys were weird).
Now, following on from this completely flawed logic (why would a population located in such a warm, Mediterranean climate be “fair”, for what is skin colour genetically, really, other than a reaction to the elements where the population is based?) and in coordination with my DNA results above (where I have 0% ancestry in the Middle East [Turkey], or any other ethnic population whatsoever, for that matter) there is just one conclusion I can reach. I am a purebred great descendent of Alexander The Great. The imaginary, blond one.
Is this better than being Northern European as I was desperately hoping? Definitely not. Is it better than being a genetic outcome of half a millennium of Turkish occupation? Probably yes. Will I use the sperm of whatever 6’1”+, blond, blue eyed partner I eventually get married to instead of mine to impregnate our surrogate, in order to forever banish my Greek DNA and avoid playing lottery with the eye colour of our children? Yes, yes, I will.