Summer Journal 2012, July 26

Yesterday was eventful ending with a successful Skype with colleagues at the Kettering Foundation.  The folks who were part of the Everyday Speech session were in a meeting room in a Dayton hotel and I could hear and see everyone very well, and also I could interact with them.  The miracles of technology.  For them it was 1 p.m.; for me it was 8 p.m. 

The first photo today is of an empty ice-cream parlor that Chris, Cody, and Corey enjoyed while here.  Fortunately the fact that it is now vacant now is not another sign of austerity.  They have simply moved to a fancier locale near the sea.  They met a young woman there named Maria and have had some exchanges with her, so they wanted me to check on her.  We found that she can completed her university degree in gymnastics and when we caught up with her she was making chocolate crepes at the new shop.  Later I will go by and take a picture of the new place, and also of her.  They had good business, however, as most of you know I'm not a contributor because I don't care for sweets. 

Vacated Sweets Shop

Now for the most incredible event of yesterday . . . . We had gone to Milos for an ouzo.  For those of you who don't know Milos it is a lovely bar next to the sea.  We had just sat down and started to sip, when an old farmer on a tractor pulled up in front of where we were sitting, which meant it pulled up on this pedestrian walkway between the bar and the sea. He was barricaded from going further by two large cement planters of flowers.  He stopped the tractor, got off, and came to our table and indicated he wanted a tsiparo (white lightening), which of course Stell ordered for him.  He kept calling me "Mrs." in Greece and at first told us he was from Gomati.  Wherever he was from, he was loaded.  Later we learned that he was from Nea Rhoda, the next down down the peninsula from Ierissos.  He had driven his tractor here to pick up his pension check, and obviously was spending it along the route home on several glasses of white lightening.  We learned his name was Kostas Voulos.  He was very animated - waving his arms about and continuing to move the glasses of water on the table into different positions.  Soon two handsome young policemen came to our table and tried to speak with him.  They were extremely polite and calm, but he was a bit rowdy with them. They sat and talked with him, and he called them "putanas", which means whores, nonetheless they kept their cool.  They paced about in Milos for several minutes, then one left and returned with a third police officer, obviously someone of higher rank.  The old farmer got back on his tractor, but they wrestled with him a bit and took his keys.  He came back to our table and continued his story - he himself used to work as an agricultural police officer.  Then one of the police cars returned with a woman, who we learned with his daughter.  She was naturally distressed, but it seems this was not the first time something like this had occurred.  She said his grandson would be coming soon to take him home.  I finally had finished my ouzo and had enough of the drama, so I left Stell with him to wait for the grandson.  The grandson never returned, so Stell drove him home to Nea Rhoda.  He tried to persuade Stell to come and have scrambled eggs and more tsiparo, which thank goodness, Stell declined.  At lunch we learned he had parked his tractor in front of Christo's restaurant before driving over to Milos and Christos had also given him a tsiparo, but then he was the one who phoned the police.  He did tell Stell that he knew the name "Kefalas" and he knew they were good people!

After the Farmer Kostas Volous event we went to Christo's for lunch.  Nula was visiting from Athens with her daughter Chrstina.  She is one of Christos Yacco's three daughters.  I remember all of them when they were waiting tables at the same restaurant when their father was the owner.  Two are now doctors, and Nula works with computers.  The doctors are not married and for some reason they won't have anything to do with Nula when she visits.  They actually leave town.  We don't know why.  It's very strange.  So the photos below are Nula, Christina, and Christos Yaccos:

Finally, we did get a photos of Nicos with his mother whose name I don't remember, and then one with her and his father Tassos.  Tassos is one of the three brothers who owns the restaurant where we dine almost daily.

Tonight I'm going to the theatre to see the local theatre group whose name means Thistles perform a modern version of Euripides, Midea. I think Stell is going to some church service at his cousin, Christos, at the same time.  I much prefer the ancient Greek messages, so we are temporarily separating. 

I have lots of vegetables.  My tomato plants are overflowing, I have gorgeous eggplants, cucumbers, and peppers.  Good sun, water, good soil. Also, the little peach tree is loaded, not like Kostas Volous, however.