No, I'm not really a blogger

Hold that thought. I wasn't planning on blogging once I was back. However, I'm remembering all sorts of things I did and saw and some fun stories to relay. Not to mention that I've uploaded some more pictures to my album.

Fun story #1: You all should check out the video of my dad dancing. I'm bummed there's no sound recorded as I have an older model digital camera. This was filmed on the beach where my family and I cooked lamb on our scrub fire (see "Mountains of Thyme").



Fun story #2: Readers will, perhaps, recall that one of my first posts was about the excitement travelers can experience when boarding a Greek ferry boat to the islands. Our particular experience, though harried at the outset, was remarkably civilized when we reached the boat. Plus, the boat was empty, I think we were the only ones on it. Maybe a few more people, I think I might have seen one or two other travelers. So I wasn't able to treat my friends to a real, Greek altercation. That is, until our last day as a group, when we reached Knossos, in Crete.
Carrie and Neena were leaving that afternoon and we wanted to spend the morning at the Minoan ruins. We stood in line, like all polite tourists, to get our tickets from the booth. It was my turn, I bought my ticket. Then it was Neena's turn. She got jumped by some people cutting in front of her. Not an unusual affair in Greece. Then the line-jumpers got jumped by a Greek (I'm guessing he was a Greek from abroad as he seemed to prefer to argue in French). The jumpers started arguing about who was first. Well, that was it. The first jumpers hustled and got their tickets, whereupon this Greek, who claimed to be a tour guide, tried to muscle in. Um, no. I told him to back off. Neena tried to shove in front of him. He started getting mouthy. Um, no. Clearly he hadn't met me before that day, or he would have been more careful. At one point I thought we might reach an arrangement, but he threw his "tour guide" status in my face and actually said that he had priority and it wasn't his problem if the tour guide ticket office wasn't open, but he got priority. Um, no. Gloves came off, Neena took hers off too, initially in English but when things heated up I brought it in Greek. Neena kept inching toward the ticket box. She'd got it down, she might not speak Greek, but a line cut is a line cut in any language and she wasn't shy about playing that game. Elbows were sharpened as were tongues. Neena gave as good as she got. Once I figured out the guy and I were not coming to an understanding and he wasn't backing off, I let him have it. We ended the "discussion" with him telling me "you are definitely a Greek". It was intended as an insult but I took a bow and thanked him profusely for his compliment. The Greeks in the box office were rolling on the floor. A few of them actually "bravo'd" me when I thanked him for his compliment that I'm a real Greek. You got it Buck-O, wanna try again? You seriously don't want to mess with tired, overheated, underwashed tourists, especially when one of them is Greek.

Fun story #3: One of my favorite things in Athens is to go see the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. This tomb is guarded by an honor guard, much like Buckingham Palace. The guards are especially selected from an elite corps of the armed forces called the Ebzones. They wear the traditional costume of the northern Greeks. Pictures:




Fun story #3.5: Captain of the Guards. He deserves his own entry:

Wrapping up

Well, I'm back State-side, though thanks to the generous vacation days from the university, I don't have to go back to work quite yet. Plus I need some time to get used to the fact that not only do I not get to go to the beach every day, I don't even get to see the water. It takes longer than one might think to get that through one's head after prolonged exposure.

This is another picture post. My blog host was having some problems uploading images, so I'll try to link this up to my photo album. I'm in the process of labeling all my pictures so you all have some idea of what you're looking at. But, honestly, the colors are so vibrant and the views so spectacular that it really doesn't matter!

Last moments

My last day on Kasos I rented a car and drove practically all over the island visiting my favorite beaches. I went to Helatros for the cobbled beach and sheer cliffs. I went to Emporios to see all the people I know and say goodbye. Then I went to Antiperatos for the tiny little pebbles and the playful waves. I was completely alone on the beach. My favorite mountain sits in the background and the beach is a hidden cove under red cliffs. I was there till the sun set.

I can think of very few things that move me more than watching the sun set on Kasos. For whatever reason, this particular moment in time, at the end of a day spent in the water or climbing up cliffsides is the moment that everything comes together and all seems right with the world. Kasos is such a part of my life that it is particularly evocative to watch the sun set there.

I'm in Athens now. We baptised my nephew yesterday and he screamed bloody murder. That's always considered a good sign, exorcising demons and whatnot. His parents practically had to be restrained from clubbing the priest as he dunked the poor little mite into the font. My sister-in-law cried. She's Thai and didn't expect the enthusiasm with which we dunk our children here. We really want to make sure the devil is good and scrubbed out. Poor kids. She rallied bravely, though my brother refused to let go of his son, despite the fact that he was not supposed to be the one dressing the child. Still, it's done, they're happy and we moved on to the next phase of the vacation.

My dad and I went in to the center of Athens. I always like going with him. He takes me to his old stomping grounds from when he was a young man trolling the tavernas under the Acropolis. He took me to a kafeneion whith marble-top tables, decorated with late 19th century neo-classical memorabilia. We sat in a window and gazed at the Erechtheion on the rock, drank ouzo, nibbled on mezedes and talked about the eternal subject... Greece. Her goods and bads, her successes and failures. No matter how bad it is here, we Greeks have a sick connection with the place. We simply can't do without regardless of the difficulties of life here.

It's always such a bitter-sweet affair for me to come here. I dread it and long for it. I don't know that I'll ever be free of the desire to return, to find some way to come back. "Back" is the operative word here, too. We want to come back to what we remember when we left. I want to come back to my childhood memories of what life was like, or what I thought it was like. I want to find a way to still be able to touch the reality of my life here, way back when. That's a tough proposition in the US, no matter what I do to bring some of Greece in to my life there.
Whenever I arrive here I'm trilled and filled with trepedation. Whenever I leave, I have some sense of relief that the trial is over and I can return to "my life" but I feel like I'm leaving a huge part of my psyche behind when I step on to that plane to bring me back.
It's been something of a leave-taking on this trip. Life is changing, some decisions are made that create different and new ties to different and new places. In many ways I've come to say goodbye, though I hope only to my memories. I hope to be setting a new path for a different relationship with the people and places of Greece, no less meaningful but entirely changed from what I've been holding on to from my childhood. We'll see.

Eikones (images)

You asked for pictures, folks!


Sunset at Agios Konstantinos

View of Emporios as I walk down the hill from my village of Agia Marina


Me washing sherds from my dad's dig at Ellinokamara

Beautiful mansion. So many gorgeous houses are going to ruin here on Kasos.
Some of you will recognize the library. That's me there, my little brother has difficulties figuring out the camera...
My dad admiring the view from Agia Kuriaki.
The archeologist at work. My dad is showing off the mosaic floor they found at the cave.
Alexander and I walked (!) up the mountain to the little chapel dedicated to Elija for the celebration. The views are amazing and at the end of the service they serve artos (spiced sweet bread) with sitaka (a Kasiot cheese). I washed that down with soumada (an almond milk drink). It's all about the food, after all!

Mountains of Thyme

Yesterday I nearly left my bones on Kasos.

How about that for a catchy first line, eh? Yesterday my 16-year-old brother, his friend and I decided to go for a little hike. Two hours I told my dad. We hopped into the car and I drove us to a parking spot at the mouth of the riverbed that is now dry. This is the area called Skylas, right at the base of my village of Agia Marina. We started our hike. The boys were game and we stared to hike up the mountain from which the waters flow in the winter. And up we hiked. And up. Things started to get a little difficult but the boys were up for it and so was I. We climbed up the rocks, we scrambled over retaining walls and boulders. "Just a little further" became our mantra. And up we went.

We reached the top of what we thought would be the tip of the mountain. We had hopes of seeing the sea from the other side. This is what we saw.

The climb wasn't too onerous and the view at the top, as you can see, was breathtaking. Once at the top the way was very easy. We walked around and found some sort of structure built of split rock, quite a nice little structure. There was no apparent use for it. I can imagine a shepherd up there getting bored and deciding to build this thing. Fascinating.

We walked around, took some pictures and marveled at the whispy clouds that scudded speedily across the sky. Their shadows chased each other across the hillsides and down the mountains. At one point we realized we were inside a cloud. I tried to get a picture of the boys, this was the best I could do:

There is only one peak on the island higher up than where we were!

At the top of this mountain, we could see the Cretan Sea (the water you can see behind the boys) on one side and the Egyptian (Lybian) on the other. What a fantastic place to be.

So we knew the way down was going to be a bit challenging, considering the way up. However, it was such easy going at the very top that we decided to try a different way down. After all, Alexander and I did exactly that at a different site and things worked out very well. Right. History repeats itself, they tell me. Right. What innocent, sweet kids we all were when we were at the top happily hopping our way down the mountain side. And then, we had to stop. There was something of a cliff below our feet. Now what? Can't go back, too much time, too much road to travel. So on we went. About 100 yards into our decent, we're on all fours facing the cliff side, clinging to the spine of the crags hoping to any and all gods who might be watching (and probably laughing their asses off) that we make it down to the next "path" one of us might have spotted from above. By this point I'm covered in scratches and thorns. The lovely, springy bushes of fragrant thyme that stud the mountain no longer provide me with an opportunity to breathe deeply and think on the glory that's in front of me. Now, these spiky, scrubby bushes are often the only thing between me and a 100 _meter_ drop into oblivion. Fun times. And I had the two kids with me. Just great. It took us just under 2 hours to climb down. I was near tears a number of times as the terror of our situation settled in. No views now. I looked behind me once and nearly lost it. Mountain above, sheer cliff below. I did not want to know. I have never been so happy to see the stone-block walls (think roman walls); never have I come anywhere near to thinking that piled slate was a sign of civilization as I did yesterday. We all three draped ourselves over this wall and just breathed. None of us dared, yet, to look up and see where we had just come from. We still had a bit of road to go before we got to the dry riverbed.

Four hours later we made it, living proof, scratches, scrapes, swollen ankles and knees intact. Looking back, from the safety of the car, we all were uttering quite a few choice words about the climb as terror abated and thrill started to take over. Younglings are resilient critters. I don't imagine we'll ever forget our climb and we're all game for another adventure as soon as the swelling subsides, the muscles start working and my heart starts beating normally again.


The evening ended with my family collecting scrub brush and lighting a fire by the sea, cooking lamb on the coals, drinking wine, and star gazing. The smell of the ever-present thyme bushes burning in the fire as well as scrunching under our shoes once again became the balm it has always been, the stars filled our eyes, the sea filled our ears, the lamb filled our bellies. As we licked our sticky fingers clean of lamb juices, washed down with wine, my dad told us stories of his adventures in the mountains and my brother and I plotted the next escapade.

Life is, indeed, good.

Home

Our first Grecian frappe, day one post nap, Athens.


So we're back in the midwest. While it's good to be home, I'm already missing Greece...the sea, the sun, the mountains, the fabulous food and frappes served to us by charming waiters.

I'm not sure I've ever traveled somewhere with so few American tourists. It was quite jarring to wait for our flight from Athens to New York, surrounded by Americans, after being immersed in another culture for a week. We are a loud and obnoxious people, aren't we? I mean, don't get me wrong, Greeks are loud too. And wordy! Every Greek conversation we witnessed seemed to be three times as long as it needed to be for pure exchange of information. Irene would ask someone the way to somewhere, and there would be five minutes of rapid-fire Greek (I could pick out a word here and there...he said "tomorrow"! she said "five"!). Then she'd turn to Neena and me and say, simply, it's this way. We were losing something in the translation.

But thank goodness for ReRe. It was wonderful to see Greece with her as our spokesperson. We weren't treated like tourists, for the most part, and we were able to do and see so many things that wouldn't have been possible without a bonafide Greek leading the way. I'm sure it was exhausting for her to have us asking her questions every two seconds...what's that? what did she say? where are we? But she's a patient soul and knows so much about the history of what we were seeing (with the possible exception of the location of Knossos). Thanks for showing us your home, Irene!

Do you like lions?

Lions of the Rimondi Fountain in Rethymnon, Crete. Fresh spring water, ideal for filling water bottles.

Lion sculpture found during excavation for a highway - Athens airport.


So one of the coolest things about Greece is that you can be right there in the present day...having an ouzo-with-lemon at a cafe in Rethymnon, or heading to the departures terminal at the airport...and you turn around and stumble over something so old, it's mind-boggling. There is so much history there and it's smashed right up against the present. In Athens, you can look up from wherever you are and the Acropolis is looming:

Or you can stroll into the Metro station and see what they found during its excavation:

As you might imagine, every time you dig anywhere in Athens you're likely to find something of historical significance. But things like the Metro need to be built...so instead of halting the project, they preserved what they found...including this glassed-off wall showing layers of Athenian history dating back to, I don't remember, the 5th century BC? There is even a grave complete with skeleton, how cool is that? "Oh, my train is late, no worries, I'll just be over here perusing ancient human remains."

I know that Neena has some great shots of this stuff as well, so hopefully she can continue the story. More to come!