Zorba's Caravan

On a rainy and cold evening at Eidomeni, it was decided that we would bring trays of tea to the tents instead of making people wait in line in the rain. The camp is not well equipped for days like this. Especially for the people who are using small camping tents and even more horrible for the ones who have been sleeping outside since the new border allowance rules. Flooding is a problem, distribution of food, water, everything is disrupted, and then, of course, the mud can make it dangerous for those just arriving in buses who are carrying bags, children, and trying to find a place to sleep.

But we were successful in providing 1000s+ cups of tea, even with volunteers making long walks to the railroad tracks where many refugees have been living for over a week now.

One man who had been huddling under our tent for a while was quietly on his cell phone. He caught my attention and motioned me over. With hand signals and two English words he communicated that he needed help finding Eidomeni on the map and sending the drop pin of where we were to his friend (maybe brother) in Milan. I also learned that his daughter was in Milan.   Slow internet and my lack of knowledge of smart phones other than iPhones took me a while to get the link, but we did it! A little while later he gave me the beads in the picture. I said, “Oh no, no problem, shukraan! Take them for your daughter!” But he insisted as I got teary eyed and said many more shukraans.

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.