It takes a village

Last Sunday was a glorious warm and clear day.  The weather reports for this week and weekend indicated rapid declines in sun and warmth.  So I played hooky from the studio and photo lab and hiked the 45 minutes each way to a slighty more remote beach.  Being in the chillly Aegean, sleeping in the sun listening to the waves, breathing the salt-filled air did more for my soul than mucking about in paint.  The beach is in the center of the photo just beyond the trees.  Not a single soul besides me was wise enough to partake in this most wonderful portion of God
s magnificent creation.  This Sunday is 20 degrees cooler, windy, and completely overcast…I made the right call!
Everyday life here is entertaining and full of lessons.  The first lesson for me is just learning what it is like to live in a  real village.  It is nothing like small town rural USA.  You really live on top of each other.  If I stand in the middle of the street I can just about touch both rows of houses.  There are designated parking lots on the outskirts because nothing larger than a motorbike can navigate the maze.  I hear everytime someone comes home, leaves, moves a chair, has a caller, or a baby cries.  Yet the sounds fade into the background as normal now, and only those things out of the normal penetrate my conscious thoughts.

This is the way people lived from the beginning.  There is such a strong sense of community and caring about each other.  There is a grandpa who lives next door who has dementia of some sort.  Each day he takes his chair and sits  at the corner for hours.  Everyone who passes talks to him.  Then periodically he will wander.  By the time he has reached Market Street someone will meet him, talk to him, and bring him back to his chair.   No averted eyes or pity – just a simple acceptance that his family is the whole village, not just my neighbors.

It is a cash economy over here.  They don’t like to accept credit cards and will claim the machines aren’t working – but that is untrue.  They just don’t want an accurate record of sales upon which they are taxed.  So last week I am buying a small item for 4 euros, but all I have is a 50 because I just got money from the ATM.  5 shopkeepers get involved in the transaction because of the need for change.  The original one yells out in the street for change and all of a sudden the shops are emptied into the middle of the district and there is a flurry of 20’s being changed to 10’s to 5’s and finally the coins.  They loved the activity and excitement.  I got my item and change and entertainmnent.

I do miss a few of the basics.  Electricity and water are precious over here – as they truly are.  To get hot water I need to flip the breaker to the water heater and wait for 20 minutes.   I waited 15 this week and had a very tepid and quick shower.  But you can only leave it on for 30 minutes before the whole system shorts out.  That’s a quick shower and a stack of dishes. 

No such things as dryers here either.  My courtyard in back is large enough for a drying rack, but doesn’t get the sun because of the overhang of buildings around me.  I have one set of sheets.  The washer holds one sheet at a time plus a pillowcase.  It takes 1 hour to run the washer.  That means to wash my sheets I start early in the morning and get the first sheet into the washer and then hung over the chairs in my living room and the fan turned on before I leave for school.  I have also put in the second sheet.  At noon I come home, put the 2nd sheet over the concrete sofa (!), flip the first sheet and move the fan.  Before dinner I flip the 2nd sheet and put the first one on the bed.  By bedtime the 2nd sheet is also dry and, voila! the laundry is done and I can reclaim a seat in the living room.

We had big rainstorms yesterday.  Some gutters have downspouts that drain directly onto the street.  Some just form waterfalls and gush into the street.  There are no storm sewers, just the cobblestone streets.  Now I know why there are stone steps up to each building.  Getting out to the school which is only 1 1/2 blocks from the house was closer to wading than walking.  Luckily, everything slopes down to the sea eventually and by evening all was clear again.  No worries. 

When I was at the photo lab yesterday John was telling us of the forecast for winds up to 50 mph last night and today.  He said that while driving into town he looked out over the ocean and saw the goats dancing.  That’s the phrase for white caps over here.  I love it.  However, all ferries were cancelled yesterday and today.  They’ve set a 24 hour strike for longshoremen on November 2nd.  Nature is in control as are the demands of human economy.  I have reservations on the 4th and 6th for the ferry to Santorini.  Pray for calm weather – and thanks to the longshoremen for wanting a long weekend instead of striking midweek!

I guess this is enough of a mish mash of thoughts from a Greek Island.  Since it is cool, I am going to try to brave the winds and walk up to the monastery this morning, but the clouds have to clear first so I can take advantage of the supposedly magnificent view.  There is another potluck tonight and I have promised a chocolate mousse which must be made shortly.  Plus I have paintings to work on and a nap to take…it’s a busy Sunday on Paros.