We took our weekly hike on Friday. Again we took the bus from Parikia to Lefkes, but this time we turned uphill. Really uphill – huffing and puffing and sweating uphill. We passed this hog farm, the largest on the island. You could smell it, hear the roosters, see the goats meandering about; but the pigs were safely inside during the noonday sun…unlike the crazy Americans walking by. Not exactly what this Iowa girl is used to as an agricultural reality.
We continued down into a dry creek bed full of boulders, prickly bushes, and low hanging trees meeting tall reeds. I’m getting too old for this kind of fun. Part of me thinks John, our fearless leader, is a closet masochist and these walks are not really about bonding experiences but his own secret joy. After an hour of this, we came to a small Y in the path.
At the intersection there were 3 men harvesting olives. Rather they call it raking the olives, because that is exactly what they do. A large green tarp is placed on the ground and they have this long rake that they swoop through the tree. Leaves and olives come tumbling down on the tarp which is then gathered together and transported to the crushing station. Think of that when you buy your next bottle of olive oil. I understand we will get to help in the harvest at a small farm near here. If the rumors are true you will get pictures and a blow by blow account.
So we left them to their labors. Three of us wise elders took one branch of the Y back to town where we had a lovely drink in the shade of a Taberna before taking the bus back to Parikia. The rest of the younguns continued on. The stories that evening told of running up the face of boulders because there were no toe holds, scraped legs, and more thistles. It is lovely to claim victory and just end the war early.
We had a potluck on Friday evening. No one has an oven. Each kitchen has 2 pans and one pot and one hot plate. I’m the only one with a microwave. No measuring cup or teaspoon set is available. Yet I was impressed with what everyone brought to the table. I made welsh teacakes purely by guessing and rolling out the dough with a wine bottle. Adding strawberry jam was a good touch, but what cemented my reputation here was bringing a pressurized can of whipped cream. Girls were just putting cream in a cup and eating it…clearly some of the Dake family genes were passed along somewhere in the past.
We had homemade macaroni and cheese, a salad with tuna, dates, blueberries, and walnuts, fried rice with veggies, a fruit bowl, quesidillas with homemade guac, peanut butter and banana crackers, cucumber sandwiches, and lots more. Amazing effort and creativity.
Which brings me to the question of the week. What do we really need? It isn’t nearly what we live with most of the time. Clothes are lovely, but I have gotten along on 2 pair of jeans and 2 pair of slacks and assorted tops for the past 2 months. Food is good, but I go to the store 2 or 3 times a week for fresh homegrown veggies and a few other supplies since the refrigerator is apartment sized and my largest cupboard is 18″ across. Access to the internet is limited. The economy is cash-based because they don’t want to pay even the extra 1.5% for credit cards because that makes a difference in what they can live on.
Yet, last night I took Mahalia out for dinner for her birthday. This was our view from the small table on the beach where wine is 2 euros a glass, and the surroundings are priceless. Companionship. Gratitude. Love surrounding us from family and friends. The promise of creating and appreciating beauty. Good health. Gentle laughter. Safety. A good night’s sleep. Acceptance. That’s a pretty good list of all we need. Plus my favorite word; enough. Each day and each moment is enough. Amen.
Lisa Oberreuter 