Category Archives: Greece

The eternal minutes of Corfu have now come and gone. The last weeks were unforgettable. A lot of the reason for me staying two months was for the reunion of my two friends who worked with me on the island two years ago. Lots of “twos” in there…I had been anticipating this visit since we planned it in February and my expectations were blown out of the water!

In those last 10 days one of my favorite experiences occurred, where people from your past and people from your present come together to create a Super Group of FUN.

We danced, we swam, we rode scooters that all looked the same, we drank, and we laughed. My goodness, did we LAUGH. It was as if no time had passed since we were together.  The new additions settled in quickly and provided the same kindness, energy, and hilarity.

LOTS of thanks to Robin for bringing us all together!

All the Corfu magic came out in full force and those last 2 weeks especially will stay a highlight of my life forever.

Onwards!  Now I’ve left Neverland and am in the world of pan au chocolat, fromage, and Ricard. Of course there are more things to Paris than the food and drink. For example, amazing friends who let you not only use their apartment as a storage space for luggage, but also as a home away from home for “as long as you wish.”

Today I was supposed to fly to Cape Verde. I have had this adventure in mind since the beginning of the summer when I was listening to Cesaria Evora and asked myself, I wonder where she is from? After some research I became infatuated with Cape Verde and made arrangements to volunteer with the Turtle Foundation on Boa Vista Island. I would spend two weeks living in a camp on the beach, participating in the following activities of night patrols, environmental awareness classes for the locals, and other data collecting of the turtle’s habits.

This morning I woke up at 5am to leave the apartment to catch my flight. But as most of you know, Paris is a frustrating city to travel through. After 2 metro lines and a bus (really not THAT bad), I made it to the airport 1 hour and 5 minutes before the departure of my flight.

Check in is closed.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

Check in is closed.

I begged, I cried, I stomped my foot, and then tried to appease. Nothing worked.

This is not a train station, miss. This is an airport with security measure and this is an international flight.

Too flustered to remember and use in the argument that last year when I arrived only an hour before my TRANSATLANTIC flight from Paris to Dallas I had no problems “checking in,” I said a forced, merci, and walked away.

As with these budget airlines here there are no refunds or compensation for any mistake YOU make.  Even more unfortunate for me, the airline I was using did not have another flight to Boa Vista until the next Friday.

I took my tired self “home” where my friend welcomed me with sleepy eyes and said, woah what happened?

“It’s the second time in two days your people have disappointed me.”

Then I started laughing…because what else can you do? Within 2 hours I booked another direct ticket for a good price and that was that. I fly to Cape Verde on Monday and everything is as it should be.

I mean, what is another few days in Paris? Or should I say in

MONTREUIL SOUS BOIS!!!

This morning I was riding the scooter from Agios Gordios (the beach village) to Sinarades (the village up the hill.) This 8-10 minute drive can be so comforting at times. I know the road well and it also provides breath-taking views of the beach town. It is meditative in a way.

I was on my way to have my daily coffee with my friend Alexandra. I had my headphones in and my mind was slowly relaxing from anxieties.  I was enjoying the over grown natural beauties when I saw something from the corner of my eye.  My friend Gabriel was riding on his bike beside mine.

This is seriously one of my favorite things EVER and has happened once or twice some summers before. We exchanged the normal formalities while cruising down the road. When we split off from each other, another two friends of mine passed on another bike and gave a friendly beep.

I am so grateful to still experience elation from such small events. However, some minutes/hours/days the same level of elation can be experienced as worry, uneasiness, or stress.

As per previous times, Corfu has been an emotional roller coaster. This is the Siren’s island after all. Where one will forget everything and be so present that the past and future appear as fantasies.

Even when a visitor penetrates this bubble, there is not much self-history shared, but instead a complete immersion into the present life here. The community, the people, the beach, the bars, and especially the stories of everyone’s life on the island are all that seem to matter.

Sink or swim. Fight or flight. It’s now or never. FOMO (fear of missing out.) YOLO (you only live once.) These are the phrases constantly running through my mind and that I ultimately use as tools when I have to wade through the negative emotions.

These infamous but addictive ups and downs I have been able to calmly ride out more effectively this year than previous years. These tools are the only things intrinsically with me from the past. I am so unaware that I possess them until I’m spiraling down and before I hit the bottom I put my palm to my head and say,

“Breathe. You know exactly what to do.”

Because even though every minute here can feel like an eternity, the island is also forcing the opportunity to appreciate the small things.

And this is it. The one constant and forceful power in this mysterious and mystical place; the vehemence of the omnipresent.

Today is overcast on the island of Corfu in Greece. After three weeks of bright blue skies and sun, I am welcoming these clouds with open arms. Even in this paradise, I had started to yearn for the Gulf Coast summer days of voluptuous clouds, and theatrical rainstorms. I’ve been dreaming of the sound of thunder that shakes your house, and that sticky, balmy air that remains even when the streets are full of water.

“The so simple is the best,” my friend Spiros says while sipping on a beer.

This simple pronouncement was due to the amazing day we had had. There is a perfect beach spot, down from Agios Gordios, where now remains a refugee ship that beached there almost two years ago.

When the boat was first discovered, in November 2013, I was staying with Spiros and his family. One morning, from the balcony of his house, we were able to see the mysterious boat. Several weeks later, the story reached Corfu that the ship had come from North Africa and had met another boat out in the Ionian Sea.   This transfer was meant to take the people to Italy. However, the port police had intercepted the new boat…this is the entire story that I know.

So, two years later the boat remains. There is not the money or proper equipment to move it. So it stays.

Spiros and I really enjoy this spot because there are very few people, the water is cleaner, and the restaurant Black Rocks is just close enough to walk down to buy some ouzo. There is obviously stress in Greece at the moment, but what I have been reminded every time I visit my Greek friends here on Corfu is that “stress” is unproductive.

Remember this statement from a previous blog?

“Medora, look something, the sun he does not have the crisis. The sea, he does not have the crisis. The tree, the mountain, no crisis.” Then wiping his hands as if brushing off imaginary dirt, “This is so.”

I’ve been thinking so much about this mentality. Yes, people are struggling. Things are hard right now for work, for money. However, then I look at this abandoned ship, that at some point was overflowing with people. Women, children, families. Whatever was happening in their world was so challenging that they risked everything to be taken to a place that is ALSO in crisis. What does that say about their predicament?

The contradictions I’ve been experiencing in how to follow The Greek Program (the sun, the sea, don’t worry, be happy), with the image of the wrecked ship that at one time held hope and a possible solution for so many desperate human beings and now constitutes an in-my-face emblem of the pains of the world outside of this island, have been very perplexing and exhausting.

Spiros, as always, is right; the simple is the best.   Instead of feeling powerless, lazy, not living up to my full potential, and not taking full advantage of my birth right, my education, my finances….I have to give into some naïve faith. I have to appreciate all the small things, those very things people were willing to get on a boat to try to find, that sustain the Greek people during this time of crisis, and in the end are what are not just essential for survival but what make our lives truly rich and meaningful.

So, for now, I am surrounded by amazing people, old friends, my family, and I want to allow myself to enjoy the so simple.

“When I told people back home I was going to Greece, they said, Aren’t they having a crisis over there?”

“Medora, look something, the sun he does not have the crisis.  The sea, he does not have the crisis. The tree, the mountain, no crisis.”  Then wiping his hands as if brushing off imaginary dirt,  “This, is so.”

I have heard some incredible explanations the past three weeks about life, politics, Greece, love, and friendship.  Everyone is a teacher here and I learn a new lesson every day.  Whether it be in words or actions, my friends on Corfu teach me more than they’ll ever know.

This time on Corfu, things are different.  Many businesses are closed for the winter season, few tourists are about, and everyone is bored.  Of course there is also some anxiousness because no one really has a stable job.  Everyone takes what they can get and the majority of the time the work is temporary.  Obviously this is a stressor due to lack of income but even more so for the personal well being of my friends here.

“Medora, look something, if you don’t have job, you feel nothing.”

There are so many assumptions the world makes about the Greeks during this economic crisis.  From my face-to-face experience here, I can tell you, there is no other choice but to live day to day.  I try to imagine if I was in Dallas and went everywhere I could and no one had money and no one could offer me a job.  I try and imagine owning my own house and land and after decades of being passed down through my family, the government, out of nowhere, claim that taxes need to be paid on what my grandparents and before them have paid off.

What would I do?  What would anyone do?

One thing the Greeks do not do is fret over it too much.  I mean, maybe they don’t want to worry me, I’m not really sure, but it seems that after the legitimate rant or speech about the crisis and injustices happening in this country the usual conclusion is hopeful.

“Freedom is the hope I wait to come.”

Even with all this hardship and all the stress for the future, there is still laughter.  I’ve never heard so much laughter!

One night I came home late to Giannis.  Everyone was outside while he closed the bar and we all went up together to his house where his wonderful mother, Elena, had prepared a feast of pasta.  Giannis, Spyros, Cristos, Fotis, Elena, Giannis father, Akileas, and I sat around the table to eat.  EVERYONE WAS LAUGHING.  Everyone was talking at the same time.  Even though I could not understand what was being said, the laughter was contagious.  A neighbor yelled something for everyone to be quiet and the response, a wave of giggles.

“Ela Medora.  We drank 3 tons of wine that night!”

A few nights ago, was one of the best nights of my life.  It was the pinnacle of all the reasons I had to come back to Corfu.

It was so natural that I’m not really sure how it all started.  A friend was buying me tsipouro, the local raki, then everyone started drinking it.  A few were dancing to the repetitive club music some one was playing and then Spyros took over the computer and began to play Greek music.  This set everyone off in a sing-along one could hear across the sea in Italy.  One man began to hit the table with such force that it knocked over all the glasses.  Tsipouro spilt everywhere but no one seemed to care and our glasses were quickly refilled.

“Opa!”

“Malaka!”

They continued singing with all their hearts and souls words I didn’t understand.  I didn’t have to.   The energy was powerful and overwhelming.

“Giannis!  Tsipouro!  Ya mas!”

Everyone clinked glasses.  Some one jumped on the bar and started dancing.  Another took off his shirt and began clapping.  Everyone began clapping for the dancing man on the downbeat, slowly but with distinct precision.

The music got faster and suddenly everyone was shirtless.  They moved the tables and began dancing in circles in the middle of the bar.

“Ela Medora!”

Some one grabbed my hand and led me in the circle.

“12 steps.  1,2,3, 1,2,3, 1,2,3, 1,2,3!”

It was an incredible night.  I will never ever forget it.

However, this was not to be the last of amazing events.

Last night, Akileas had a BBQ for me.

“Medora, look something, all the guys, they want to do something for you.  So, Akileas prepare the BBQ for Medora UNICEF.”

“Medora UNICEF?” I asked.

“Medora, look something, the people love you because you are friendly.  The village calls you, Medora UNICEF.  In the summer, many people came to you from all over the world and we could see that we are not so different from each other.  And this is good.”

The BBQ was a huge success.  Akileas hosted it at his restaurant right outside the village.  All the food was fresh, all the vegetables were from his garden.

Every thing was piled in heaps and plated on several plates down the table.  Tomato and pepper salad, chips, and fresh meat from the grill covered the table.  Oh and wine.  TONS of wine.

Within a few minutes after the feast, Akileas, without a lot of convincing, went to the piano.  This began the next two hours of singing, dancing, and drinking.  I looked down the table and was over come with a sense of well being and happiness.  My eyes began to water and I felt so much love for these friends.

   

I almost had a heart attack when Akileas began a medley of “Mack the Knife” and “When the Saints Go Marching In.”  Both songs have a distinct presence in my life, from my grandmother’s annual performance of “Mack the Knife” at all Christmas gatherings, to my beloved New Orleans Saints.  It was a “me” moment and no one else could fully understand the relevance of those songs.

During my time here I have been taken to secret beaches, where not even a telephone pole was in sight.  I swam naked under a thousand stars and in a sea full of phosphorescence glowing whenever I made the slightest move.  I’ve ridden on the back of motorcycles through rolling green hills and views of the ancient Ionian Sea.  I have had late night conversations of philosophy and Greek mythology.

This island is magical and so why not stay another two weeks?

“Medora look something, the Greek program, is no program.”

For the past 5 weeks I have been living in the village of Sinarades on Corfu in Greece.  A few months ago, I was imagining what my life on the island would be like.  Fantasies appeared of beach time, writing, playing music, helping in the bar, and adventures on this magical island.

As usual, my life here on Corfu has exceeded all expectations.  Not because of the reasons mentioned above but because I have, once again, found myself surrounded by extraordinary people.

I have had many visitors the past month and observing their interactions and experiences with my family/friends here on Corfu has justified all of the reasons I came here.

There WERE doubts as to why exactly I was coming here.  I was offered something like a “dream job” in May to teach at a Montessori school in Myanmar.  There were wonderfully obvious signs to take the position but my commitments to the people coming to visit me in Greece could not be undone.

Whoever believes they are coming to see Greece with me receives SO MUCH MORE.  As so many of the places I have “lived in,” I have been welcomed with open arms and have made friends and family for life.   And my guests have received (and GIVEN!) the same loving kindnesses.

There is truly some magic in this island.  If a day goes by and I do not get to swim in the sea I feel rotten.  The days I swim in the beautiful turquoise waters of the Ionion Sea I feel like a warrior until I fall asleep.  Something in that highly dense salt water gives me an inexplainable energy and sense of well-being.

The past three days have been rough weather not allowing my favorite daily activity.  This resulted in a small state of depression, exhaustion, and anxiety I hadn’t experienced since I stepped foot off the boat.

However, yesterday I was taken to the local’s beach, where I swam until my fingers and toes wrinkled.

Treatment for those suffering from the before mentioned ailments; Swim until tired.  Dry in the sun.  Repeat.  Results include elation, energy, and a stubborn belief that everything is/is going to be amazing.

Last week we had a BBQ at my house.  We prepared 5 kilos of various delectable meats, greek salad, grilled peppers and onions, and beer, beer, beer and local wine, wine, wine.

I had invited my neighbors and the locals in the village.  I wanted to show how absolutely grateful I was/am for their endless acts of friendship and kindness.

As many of you know from my parties in the past, I ultimately invited every person I passed in the street.  So our little party turned into something more like an International Summit.

My Sinarades family, friends we met at Robin’s bar, my coworkers, Charlotte (my cousin), her boyfriend, Seth, and my friend, Mark (who I met in Bangkok) were all present.  It was a party and it was exactly everything I had hoped for.

Good food, good people, good music, and GOOD wine.  I looked around and had an incredible sense of happiness.

I thought,

Now, why can’t the leaders of the world be like this?

It really was one of my top favorite nights here on Corfu.  Especially having Charlotte, my partner in crime since the moment she came into this world 10 months after me, to share in this experience.

Corfu is a beautiful place with an incredible history but as I have found in so many other popular tourist destinations, the PEOPLE are what make it an experience of a lifetime.

So this is my heartfelt, a thousand times over “thank you” (Haha, last time Fotis I swear!) to everyone on this island who has made me remember the endless majesty of the people all over the world.

I looked around at our circle of internationals and thought about the fact that we all were coming from so many different places.  We all grew up with different backgrounds, different traditions, and different families yet we appear to be all on the same quest; to enjoy life and be happy.

There was a moment after the sunset, and Spiros lit the tiki lamps he had brought over, where I noticed that EVERY single person was enthralled in conversation.

I was overwhelmed with contentment and gratitude.  This is why I do this!  This is what I live for!

And the theme of my life; experience always exceeds expectations.

Once again, SOMEHOW, I have unknowingly surrounded myself with new “forever friends.”

And I hope, every single day, that they know how grateful I really am and how much love I have for my Corfu family.

“I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.”
-Nikos Kazantzakis, Zorba the Greek

                 

We greet each other through the window.  In the beginning the act was unconscious but soon we became aware that we were becoming locals.

We started to ride the motorcycle with things in hand; laundry, large bags, homemade take away dinners, and the garbage for the dumpster that is up the hill.

Instead of walking a block to our destination, without discussion, we jump on the motorcycle and enjoy the 10 second thrill ride.

We try to be Greek and find that we like it.  It seems to come naturally.

Nothing is too serious and when it is we laugh harder.  No conversation is beyond our creative jest.

We gossip with kind words.  We make plans for the day.

Intentionally, and with justified voices, we strive to sound like the islanders.  Without effort, our plans specifically include facts about what we will eat, drink, and where we will sit on the beach that day.

Our only hindrance is our innocence because in many moments we acknowledge our awesomeness and exclaim our gratitude for this charmed life.  This is something our neighbors would not do.

We are envious of how they continue in an existence of the present moment, with no need to certify every minute’s sublimity.  This practice we attempt to execute but our ecstasies and excitement overflow and to process this reality we have to accredit its greatness.

We repeat each others words to give them more meaning.  Or simply to restate the agreed opinion.

Let’s make coffee

Yes, coffee.

Coffee.  Mmmm.

Yeah.  Let’s do it.

At night we dance and in the day we rest.

In the mornings we chat through the windows.

Consciously playing our favorite game;

“Let’s Be Like the Greeks”

Megan’s awesome video of our Corfu family and adventures.

I’ve made it to Corfu.  Today is my fourth day here and I am sitting in the garden of my house.

The view is pretty spectacular….

Have you ever seen a baby hummingbird before?  Well, I literally just did.  I thought it was a bug!  But no.  A beautiful baby hummingbird.  Wow.

Again, I haven’t had very much time to process everything.  The past three weeks I spent traveling through Croatia, Bosnia and Herezegovina, Montenegro, Kosova, and Albania.  There were many wonderful events and I met some of the most incredible families.  Today is the first day I’ve had a moment to write.  When I arrived on Corfu, there was a lot to do in the house.

For those who do not remember, I am in Corfu renting a house in Sinarades; a village town west of Corfu Town.  I’ll be here for two months writing, playing music (Sadly, the piano here was damaged from water that came in by the leaky roof.  The top three octaves are impossible to play but I have my guitar!), riding my motorcycle, and doing little jobs here and there at Robin’s Nest Bar (Robin, the owner of the bar, is renting me the house in Sinarades.)

The house hasn’t been occupied in several months.  Leaving me a lot of sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing.  I usually get completely “type A” with these things and feel the need to get it all done in one go.  However, this time I’ve been fixing it up slowly;  one room a day and sometimes the same room again.

There are no hotels in Sinarades.  Only a few tavernas and a great place that is a café at day, bar at night where the owner, Giannis, and his right hand man, Fotis, work everyday.  I met these two three years ago during my first visit to Corfu.  They welcomed me back with open arms and a glass of Ouzo.  So, even though I am alone in this old house, I feel safe having them down the alleyway.

Last night I woke up at 3am to some suspicious sounds outside, that then moved into the ceiling.  Mice or maybe a Greek version of squirrels would have been a God send.  This sounded more like a large dog moving above me.

At first I was terrified.  Many scenarios ran through my head.  I know many people wonder what I’m doing here and more so why I’m alone.  In the Balkans, the introductory question everywhere I went was, “Are you single? Why? Why/how are you traveling single???”  I’m fairly certain this little traditional village wants to ask me the exact same questions.

I thought about what HAPPENED to the widow in Zorba the Greek.  It seriously ran through my head that the villagers were outside my house, waiting to punish the single woman!

Once I began to logically think that through, I found that my fear had suddenly turned into anger.  I was not going to be bullied by anyone or anything!

There really is no possible way to get inside the house stealthily.  Climbing through the window would be very difficult, and the obstacles under the windows would detain the intruder/s long enough for me to grab the metal pole to the broom I keep in the kitchen (I seriously planned out these details.)

With my newfound courage, I got up, turned on the light, and started stomping around the house.  I have always had problems sleeping alone in a big house, so this act was surprising.  I felt proud of myself and with the last of my pride and courage I looked out the windows.  Nothing.  Nothing was there.  The sound in the ceiling ceased.

My anger, even more provoked by lack of sleep, enveloped my entire being and this new experience of pride and courage resulted in absolutely no possibility of sleep.

Three episodes of Homeland later, a blue light started to shine through the window.  I got up and went out to the garden.  No evidence of any animals or angry townsmen.  I climbed up to the patio and took pictures of the sunrise.

Dark clouds hovered over Albania and distant thunder sounded.  Sinarades, nestled in the hills, began to bustle with life.

After a few hours of sleep, I went down to Giannis’s for a coffee.  His sister was working.  Several Greek men sat outside of the café.  With their coffees they sat, twirling their “worry” beads, talking and scoping out the main road.  A small boy was crying outside of the cafe and several of the men were comforting him and aiding what looked like a bloody lip.

I was welcomed with smiles and many “kalimeras.”  Apparently, I was not the “single woman” needed of punishing but more so, the curious foreign girl who is living in Ono’s House; the name of my house-Ono being the original owner who passed away some years ago.  Ono was also a foreigner.  From one of the Slavic countries…I think (?)  Over 6 feet tall, and always wearing a cowboy hat, he would walk around the village like a giant…with a cowboy hat.

Everyone said “kalimera” to me.  The more time I spend around the village, the more I see how everyone knows and watches after each other.  This is the community I’ve been searching for.  This is exactly what I asked for.

I cannot wait to share it with you.

AND to share it with all the visitors that are coming!  I am so excited to see you all!