Monday, August 29, 2011
Musings on the Summer of 2011
Definitely this has been the best summer weather-wise since
I first came to Greece in 1986. We
will leave on Friday from Thessaloniki very late at night – almost midnight for
Athens and be in the Athens Airport until 5 a.m. when we will leave for
Amsterdam. Fortunately to
Amsterdam and then onto Atlanta around 11 a.m. Amsterdam time we will fly first
class. We are both very rested, so
I don’t think the adjustments will be any huge problem. Of course, some in the U.S. have been
concerned due to the very horrible hurricane and subsequent storms along the
East Coast. Hopefully this will
not interfere with our flights home to Watkinsville.
I’ve read 11 books this summer – and posted this information
at my blog (
www.ernews.blogspot.com).
Many of them were recommended by Addie,
and I think Stell and I have read more of the same books this summer than any
other time.
We both read Waiting
for the Barbarians (which should be required reading for everyone in the USA),
The Value of Nothing, Michael Thurmond’s Freedom, and Jane Gardam’s Old Filth
and The Man in the Wooden Hat.
I
also resumed my love affair with the writing of Tony Judt.
The difficult news we have followed is the struggle of my
Kettering-colleague and sister, Taylor Willingham. She’s only 54 but has been dealing with fast spreading renal
cancer since April. The posting
from her mother to several of us yesterday makes me not want to look at my
email, because it appears her passing is imminent. The communications we have had from her until yesterday were
here messages to us, but yesterday the message was from her mother, June,
telling us all that Taylor was no longer able to use the keyboard.
Our Taylor
Posted by Taylor Willingham
*Taylor passed away September 5, 2011
Aug 27, 2011 - 8:31 pm
60 Answers - 371 Views
This is Mom. I am writing this under Taylor's log-in in
order to reach the most friends of news of Taylor.
The keyboard is silent. The fingers that once danced
across it creating beautiful prose are now reaching for the unimaginable.
The beautiful blue eyes that once darted around the room drinking in everything
to feed her imagination and spark a new vision now slowly glance from side to side
through fog that clouds her once brilliant mind. Her mind is filled with
reels of memories of meetings and forums and projects and classrooms beckoning
her to fulfill an imaginary task for which she is responsible. Her phone
is no longer her connection to the outside world. The book is relegated to our
minds of the fond memories we have of this one who had so much passion—for
literacy, for democracy, for education—the list goes on and on. It will
be left to so many of her capable friends and co-workers to carry on.
She is home with her things and her family, and we are
cherishing these special days. She has made her mark in the lives of so
many, and as family, we want to thank all of you for your support and love for
us and our Taylor.
I know Taylor would want me to send you her love.
June (Mom)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
I’m typing this journal on my old Toshiba which is stored in
a cupboard at Stavraqu all winter.
The screen has three lines: a thick white one, a thin white one, and a
red one, which I assume means it is dying. I’ve decided to use it until the bitter end. This morning is cool, but the sun is
rising and so the warmth also expands.
The goat herder with 900 goats was doing his job this morning. It has been so dry that the goats were
stirring up lots of dust. Nic
always referred to the goats on a hillside as little dots, so I guess today
they were the dots in the dust.
We’ve had an interesting few days. Stellios, the shepherd, came up on Sunday morning with his
harmonica and recorder to play some songs. I made a video, but it was so incredibly windy that although
you will be able to watch him, it is difficult to hear the songs.
Yesterday at Sultana’s, Miltiades sat with us and was really
sad and teary-eyed. His wife,
Eleni, has undergone chemotherapy for breast cancer, and now begins seven weeks
of radiation. They moved here from
Argentina many years ago, and at first ran a restaurant (emphasizing meat
dishes). Both have become very
active in the community. Stell
actually saw Ereni at the full moon festival, but I did not. He said she was wearing a turban
because of the loss of her hair. I
wrote a note to her to give to Miltiades today. She goes to Thessaloniki for the treatments, and I don’t
think she will return until Friday when we leave.
I’m going to use my photographs to develop this year’s
entry. I didn’t keep a daily or
regular journal because I feel I’ve told so many of the same stories that I
would be redundant, but I think the photos will give the big picture or at
least some of the highlights. I’ll
add the photos when I’m back in Watkinsville, since I don’t trust this computer
to manage the load.
[Stell just reminded me that today is Alexander’s names’
day].
Okay these two photos are of Stell’s wine glass. We were having lunch at Maraggio’s, and
he went into the bathroom.
Demetrius brought the wine and I noticed the reflection of the panorama
was an upside picture of the sea, a building and the seaside. I had a pasta dish with bacon and
tomato sauce, and Stell had mussels, calamari and rissoto. My choice was much better, because the
calamari was tough.
The next three photos are the young sirens of Ierissos. Of course, the ringleader is Niki. All summer they have been doing
dramatic acts of “modeling” on the beach, and yesterday for whatever reason
they decided to go topless. They
were really being naughty and having a great time parading around the Miloz
bar. They loved posing for these
pictures. In one they put some
kind of mask on their faces. Their
mothers were all sunning on the beach and were paying absolutely no attention
whatsoever to their daughters.
The woman and girl on the motorcycle are Piygi and her
daughter Eleni. Our niece,
Despoina, is the godmother of Eleni, so I thought she would like it if I took
this photo. They live directly
across from the house where Stell was born and were Georgia and Despoina have
their summer places. It is very
common to see children transported around town by their parents on bicycles,
scooters, and motorcycles.
The young man in this photo is Georgios. He’s the main bartender at Miloz this
summer. His mother Rula owns a
nice coffee shop next to the Karavasillis butcher shop. I don’t know what her husband does, but
he is very handsome and a daily ouzo customer at Oasis. His trademark seems to be wearing a
shirt with the sleeves cut out. We
like Rula’s coffee shop but rarely go there, because our coffee is better and
in Greece refills are unknown.
The man sitting with me is called “The Metros”. His real name is Demetrios and before
he “retired” he was fisherman. Now
I know he does odd jobs and manages several vineyards. He’s a fabulous exotic dancer, probably
the best natural dancer in the village.
I videotaped him one year at the local festival, Paniyeri. His wife, Tula, told me this year he has been singing to
widows? He does have a great voice
and knows the really old songs. We
used to see him regularly in the evenings at Gallitsano’s drinking ouzo or
retsinas, but he and Stelios Galitsano had some fight and so he has been
avoiding the place this summer. At
first we heard that he just got too loud one night and Stellios asked him to
leave. Our newspaper, Stellios
Foras, said that actually he made sexual advances to Stellios Galitsano’s partner,
the German veterinarian, Sabrena.
We don’t know. Heard it on
the grapevine.
The young man in the doorway is a fellow we frequently see
at Tula’s. I don’t know if he is a
relative or just someone who helps her with the hardware store. The young guy in the red shirt is her
grandson, Ioannis. Their (Tula and
Demetrios’) children are exceptional.
I doubt that The Metros has a grade school education and Tula only grade
school, but their three children have all done very well and Tula has pushed
their education. One of the twin
girls has returned from Athens and opened a sporting goods business on the main
drag, the other daughter does accounting for the municipality, and the son,
Georgios, is a skilled plumber.
Tula has pretty much also raised the five grandchildren. They have tremendous respect for
her. She is this short, chubby,
no-nonsense woman. We have always
liked one another, and I personally admire the way she manages her business and
her family. A “can do” woman who
gets “it done.” If we go by
to get hardware she sits us down, pours us a tsiparo, cuts up a tomato, a
cucumber, puts out slices of ham, tuna fish, olives, and feta (which she buys
from the local guy who was in the Guiness Book of World Records for preparing
the world’s largest feta cheese. (Jaiden will love this part of the
story). The large man with Tula is
her brother Nicos. I met him for
the first time yesterday when we went by to place our paint order. He’s a liquor distributor whose company
is near Larissa. Stell, of course,
has him looking into buying Cluny Scotch for Greece. I liked him immediately
and I loved the relationship he had with his sister.
The smaller man on the couch with Stell and Demetrios is
Tula’s cousin. He’s also
Demetrios, but is called Mitso.
He’s the chief of police here, and has come by to have an ouzo,
too. Would never happen in the
U.S.! He started working as a
policeman when he was 27 years old, worked as security on Mountain Athos, and
has risen through the ranks to be a colonel and the chief of police here. Stell said his very young daughter got
pregnant and then married and divorced, and she has just learned that she has
been accepted to study English at the University in Thessaloniki. His son apparently has met with some
academic success as well, but I can’t remember what he does or studies. Tula said that when her cousin Mitsos
was small she used to braid his hair.
Everyone got a good laugh when she told that story. Mitsos himself told Stell that when he
was small and very poor his father would take him to Mountain Athos where dirty
and in rags he was asked to stand off in a dark corner.
Now that he is the chief of polices the hoity-toity monks want him at
the head table. He’s proud of his
accomplishments.
These photos are my way of illustrating how the beach is
closing shop. When the umbrellas
are closed and the beach chairs are stacked only a few people come
swimming. Most of the people on
the beach are young women in skimpy bikinis so I’m sure this is a time Cody would
especially enjoy! Of course, no
summer is complete without a few photos of Stell in his speedo. Nic, especially, and Paris,
almost as much, hate these speedo photos.
Personally I think he looks pretty dynamic at age 75. When you see a lot of the other men his
age, they are only displaying their dunlap bellies (done lap over their
belts). Stell has done his
exercises seriously every day we’ve been here except when he damaged his left
foot dancing at the Full Moon Festival.
He was out of commission as far as dancing for about a week and had to
take an anti-inflammatory and anti-biotic. Fortunately, although his mobility was limited for a few
days and he was generally under the weather, he has recovered and avoided any
arthritis flairs. I usually have
one medical ordeal per summer – infected eye, arm injured in a fall, tennis
elbow, summer cold, but this summer only a couple of mosquito bites. Actually I bought a little battery
operated OFF device when I was with Addie in Athens, and it worked terrifically
to fend off the cornupia (mosquitoes).
I only brought two of the replacement packages, however, so we haven’t
been able to use it for about a week.
Now that I know how well it works, I’ll bring more packages next year
and some extra AAA batteries.
Also, the water weights Addie identified for me were fabulous and I
never entered the sea without them.
My niece, Mary, covets them, so I will give them to her on Friday as a
belated names’ day present and bring a new set next summer. The other “luxury” item that I’ve had
for several years that has served us well again is my shortwave radio (inspired
years ago by Malcolm). Although we
now have complete access to the internet, it has been wonderful to tune into
the BBC and the English-speaking channels from Bonn, the Netherlands, Paris,
and China. We usually listen at 9
or 10 p.m. at night.
I took these pictures of the kids on the edge of the sea
because you can see some whitecaps.
Whitecaps are very unusual here and these kids were screaming their
heads of with joy. I think they
were Bulgarian or Romanian children.
There are lots of tourists here from the Balkans. They don’t help the local economy much,
because they tend to bring a lot of their own food and stay in
campgrounds. They also don’t mix
much with the Greeks, and the locals are prone to express their dissatisfaction
with these visitors. Another
hilarious thing about these “whitecaps” days is that the local Greeks will
avoid swimming and often if winds bring a little nip of cooler air and some
waves, they will pack up and return to Thessaloniki, evacuating the place as if
Katrina or Irene were about to bring catastrophe.
The woman with me in the photo is another Maria (I sometimes
wonder how many thousands of Marias live in the Mediterranean area?). She is married to Demetrios (another
Mitsos) who years ago helped install the marble in our house. The story goes that he was incredibly
shy, and Carol, Stell’s first wife, tried to take photos of him and he would
hide behind the sheep. We
were at Maria’s on a Sunday, because the man she is with in the picture
(Stellios Foras) phoned and told us to come by for a tsiparo. Stellios has been hired by Stell to
paint our house and take care of the grounds. We actually had retsina (our choice) and some fish, French
fries, tomato salad, and olives.
Later a couple of the other guys asked Maria to take the French fries
inside and make an omelette, which she did (with goose eggs- very rich). As if this was not enough, she served
Stell and me a goat cream pudding topped with cinnamon – extremely
delicious. Stell invited all of
them to Galitsano’s for Thursday night for a send-off party. One of the men at this gathering,
George (blue shirt with red trim), had lived in Australia for twelve years, but
now in Ierissos operated a bakery (which he said was so much work). At the end of the gathering his wife
appeared. She was not attractive
and friendly like George (of course, she hadn’t been sipping tsiparo), and she
seemed perturbed that he was lounging around on a Sunday afternoon with
friends. Maria offered her some
things, but she just really wanted George to pack up and come home, which he
did.
To be sure everyone who has been to Greece, recognizes
Thanassis (Sakis) – beloved by one and all – the unofficial Chamber of
Commerce. Great friend to Paris
and Nic. We left Greece last
summer with heavy hearts because we had heard that Sakis older son, Alexos was
incarcerated in Italy. The rumor
was that he had fallen in with a bad crowd in Thessaloniki where drugs were
involved and there was even some mention of a murder. Sakis kept saying to Stell that he had some very bad news
but he was unable to speak about this.
This year with Stell talking directly with Sakis, the news does not seem
so dire. It is true that Alexos
was incarcerated, but it is because in a short period when he was out of work,
so “hustlers” talked him into trying to take a couple of illegal immigrants
into Italy. He was caught and is
in prison, but I believe he is now in Thessaloniki and will be released at the
end of December. Sakis’ daughter
Stella had given birth to her second son (who of course will be called
Thanassis.) His oldest daughter,
Via, has started a tailoring shop called Indigo and while we were here she became
engaged to a nice man, Nikos, from Palieahori. So the family was experiencing a lot of good events and
Sakis sat with us often at Sultanas and Miloz for ouzos and conversation.
The little guy on the scooter is Asterios with his
grandfather, Seraphim. Seraphim is
a mechanic, and on Saturdays he brings Asterios for a lemonade while he has an
ouzo with his assistant, Vagalis (George the Mechanic’s son). Vagalis has been working with his dad
in the winter on construction projects in Cameroon. His brother, Dinos, is married to a girl in Nea Rhoda. Dinos is a national military
officer. Heather and Scott liked
George very much when they visited Greece several years ago.
The young woman in this photo is Tula and Demetrios’
daughter, Lena, who I mentioned above.
I took this picture when we stopped to check out the new sporting goods
shop she has opened named Kois (her husband’s name). She appeared to me to have all the good business sense of
her mother.
It goes without saying that the big event of this summer was
the August 26, 2011 (a Friday) celebration of Stell’s 75th
birthday. This was much more low
key than the 70th and many fewer people. The afternoon before Mary, our niece, cooked and Stell’s
sister, Anna, his grandniece’s Christianna and Maria, and grandnephew Kostas
were present, plus Mary’s husband, Ioannis, and three other young friends of
Christianna, Maria and Kostas. She
made a vegetarian casserole that I thought was scrumptious and there was
zuchinni cakes and salad. Of
course, the meal ended with an ice-cream cake and the usual birthday
singing. On the 26th
Stelios Foras picked us up in his jeep at 11 a.m. and took us on the most
scenic drive through Seripatomi to the ferry boat harbor, Tripiti. The day was absolutely perfect. Stell’s mentee Kostas and his wife,
Maria, were also aboard. The ferry
takes less than 30 minutes to cross to Amuliani Island. Once
there we followed Stellios to the restaurant (The SeaGull) owned by his
brother-in-laws, Demetrios and Christos.
Stellios’ wife, Katerina works with her brothers. We sat on the seaside and had superb
appetizers, crabs, octopus, baked cheese, gavros in lemon sauce, etc. I recognized the head waiter
immediately, but I couldn’t remember his name. He had worked before at two restaurants in Ierissos, the
Touristico and Maraggio’s. I had
taken a photo of him, but never saw him to present a copy. He knew about the photograph and fortunately
the next day I found it here, so Katerina could take it to him. It’s an especially good photo, so I was
pleased to locate it for him. He
organized the other waiters and they came out singing with a caramel
torte. I don’t care much for
sweets, but I thought this was especially tasty. Stellios was staying behind because of a funeral of his
brother’s in law’s mother-in-law that was about to happen. Our ferry wouldn’t leave for an hour so
we had a coffee with Maria and Kostas at a seaside bar. They both annoyed the hell out of me
the whole time, because they are part of the generation glued to their cell
phones. Fortunately we have spent
much, much, much less time with them this summer. I do realize however that like most Greeks they have to
hustle for their business (real estate).
This leads me to my attempt to do a brief discussion of my
take on the Greek economy based upon what I have experienced in Ierissos this
summer. So many people have asked
me about this in emails that I will take some time to identify signs of the
recession here. There have
been several strikes of various employees – most noted was the strikes of taxi
drivers for at least ten days. Our
cousin, Georgios, who has one of the taxis here told us that he was told by
other drivers that they would beat the hell out of him if he avoided the
strike. Many students and faculty
are expected to strike at the Universities in a few weeks because of schedules
and new fees. Also, a time limit
is being placed on how long a person can claim student status. Some of the youth have made being a
student a lifetime occupation (they get reduced fares on public transportation,
housing subsidies, meals, etc.)
The candy is being taken away from the babies, and the babies are not
pleased. Another big sign for me
has been that there has not been a single big fat Greek wedding. In past years we would sometimes drop
in on two and occasionally three huge weddings. Now we have met several young people who have had small civil
weddings with the core family members sharing a meal after the “ceremony”. The rich people are still out eating
hefty meals, but the poor and middle-class people are not out like in days of
yore. When we see the older men having their afternoon ouzos they have
eliminated the mezzes (appetizers) that used to accompany their drinking. Many of the cars are smaller. For a time, I was amazed at the big
huge SUVs, but now smart cars and small versions of other makes are more
prevalent. People have cut back
considerably on their use of cell phones because of a sizeable value-added tax
(VAT). Kostas used to call Stell
three and four times a day with silly chit-chat. That has ended.
Many restaurants and shops
have closed. Often we are the only
patrons at Miloz in the afternoon.
To me under-employment seems at the same level or lower. We know several people who have fairly
high academic qualifications who are working as hotel staff. The Greek Haircut is underway and the
belts are being pulled tighter.
There were not major “cultural events” in the community. Helena Verginis used to bring all kinds
of musical troupes to the village from other places in Greece and other
countries. This year the local
theatre group, the local choir, and other area talent was center-stage. Our botanist friend, Stella Kokini was
working diligently to write some grants for her research and indicated that in
many places funds had dried up.
For the country at large a European Community oversight committee has
been charged with the responsibility to see that new regulations are
imposed. People in the local businesses
were very careful to make sure they gave us sales receipts. Stell will watch the numbers when we
return to Watkinsville, but for me these are some of the signs of austerity. Greece has always been playfully
nocturnal – now people who are out seem to eat quickly and head home to watch
television. The chickens have come
home to roost.
P.S. Nic interviewed us on the ride home from the Airport
about the economy and one other insight (but a sad one) was provided by our
cousin the taxi driver when we were taken to the Airport in Thessaloniki. He and his wife have two young
children. He told us they start
back to elementary school on the 12th of September. So far there is no money in the system
to buy their books so they will be using Xeroxed texts and CDs/DVDs for their
lessons. At our last ouzo at
Sultana’s, I spoke with the former school principal in the little town near us,
Gomati. He has been transferred to
Ierissos. He said the school in
Gomati was closed. The official
reason given was there are not enough students, but he said the real reason is
the government has no money to keep the school open. Now the parents are very worried about how these children
will get to school in Ierissos as there are no busses. We read this article while in Greece
in The New Yorker. Stell says it
is a very accurate assessment of the situation:
THE FINANCIAL PAGE
DODGER MANIA
JULY 11, 2011
Greece is a fairly small
country, but for the past year it has been causing an awfully big uproar.
Burdened by a pile of government debt that could force it into default (and the
European banking system into a meltdown), Greece has had to adopt ever more
stringent austerity plans in order to secure a bailout from the European Union.
Explanations of how Greece got in this mess typically focus on profligate
public spending. But its fiscal woes are also due to a simple fact: tax evasion
is the national pastime.
According to a
remarkable presentation that a member of Greece’s central bank gave last fall,
the gap between what Greek taxpayers owed last year and what they paid was
about a third of total tax revenue, roughly the size of the country’s budget
deficit. The “shadow economy”—business that’s legal but off the books—is larger
in Greece than in almost any other European country, accounting for an
estimated 27.5 per cent of its G.D.P. (In the United States, by contrast, that
number is closer to nine per cent.) And the culture of evasion has negative
consequences beyond the current crisis. It means that the revenue burden falls
too heavily on honest taxpayers. It makes the system unduly regressive, since
the rich cheat more. And it’s wasteful: it forces the government to spend extra
money on collection (relative to G.D.P., Greece spends four times as much
collecting income taxes as the U.S. does), even as evaders are devoting plenty
of time and energy to hiding their income.
Greece, it seems, has
struggled with the first rule of a healthy tax system: enforce the law. People
are more likely to be honest if they feel there’s a reasonable chance that
dishonesty will be detected and punished. But Greek tax officials were
notoriously easy to bribe with a fakelaki (small envelope) of cash.
There was little political pressure for tougher enforcement. On the contrary: a
recent study showed that enforcement of the tax laws loosened in the months
leading up to elections, because incumbents didn’t want to annoy voters and
contributors. Even when the system did track down evaders, it was next to
impossible to get them to pay up, because the tax courts typically took seven
to ten years to resolve a case. As of last February, they had a backlog of
three hundred thousand cases.
It isn’t just a matter
of lax enforcement, though. Greek citizens also have what social scientists
call very low “tax morale.” In most developed countries, tax-compliance rates
are much higher than a calculation of risks would imply. We don’t pay our taxes
just because we’re afraid of getting caught; we also feel a responsibility to
contribute to the common good. But that sense of responsibility comes with
conditions. We’re generally what the Swiss behavioral economist Benno Torgler
calls “social taxpayers”: we’ll chip in as long as we have faith that our
fellow-citizens are doing the same, and that our government is basically
legitimate. Countries where people feel that they have some say in how the
state acts, and where there are high levels of trust, tend to have high rates
of tax compliance. That may be why Americans, despite being virulently anti-tax
in their rhetoric, are notably compliant taxpayers.
Greeks,
by contrast, see fraud and corruption as ubiquitous in business, in the tax
system, and even in sports. And they’re right to: Transparency International
recently put Greece in a three-way tie, with Bulgaria and Romania, as the most
corrupt country in Europe. Greece’s parliamentary democracy was established
fairly recently, and is of shaky legitimacy: it’s seen as a vehicle for special
interests, and dedicated mainly to its own preservation. The tax system had
long confirmed this view, since it was riddled with loopholes and exemptions:
not only doctors but also singers and athletes were given favorable rates,
while shipping tycoons paid no income tax at all, and members of other
professions were legally allowed to underreport their income. Inevitably, if a
hefty chunk of the population is cheating on its taxes, people who don’t (or
can’t, because of the way their income is reported) feel that they’re being
abused.
The result has been a
vicious circle: because tax evasion is so common, people trust the system less,
which makes them less willing to pay taxes. And, because so many don’t chip in,
the government has had to raise taxes on those who do. That only increases the
incentive to cheat, since there tends to be a correlation between higher tax
rates and higher rates of tax evasion.
Even while dealing with
protests and open riots, the new Greek government is trying to change things.
It is rationalizing its tax-collection system. It has simplified taxes and done
away with some of the loopholes. And it has stepped up its enforcement efforts
in ways large and small—tax officials have, for instance, been sending
helicopters over affluent neighborhoods looking for swimming pools, as evidence
of underreported wealth. These efforts have made some difference: the
self-employed seem to be reporting more of their income, and the evaders have
had to step up their game. (There’s now a burgeoning market in camouflage
swimming-pool covers.)
But a social inclination
toward tax evasion, once established, is hard to eradicate. One fascinating
study, by the economist Martin Halla, showed that tax morale among
second-generation American immigrants reflected their country of origin. And
getting tough can backfire. Research suggests that overemphasizing enforcement
can actually weaken tax morale, by making taxpaying seem less like a freely
chosen part of the social contract.
The reason tax reform
will be such a tall order for Greece, in sum, is that it requires more than a
policy shift; it requires a cultural shift. Pulling that off would be quite a
feat. But the future of the European Union may depend on it. ♦
More to follow.
Mediterranean Time
We invited several people to our home on Tuesday for a
barbecue: 1) A German family of
four (Michael, Anya, Helena, and Paul) and their young friend, Vincent from
Pottsdam, 2) The owners of the Marcos Hotel (Ireni and Ioannis), 3) Neighbors
and close friends of the Marcos (Ioannis and Rania Ververidis), 4) Greek
friends of the Marcos’ and Ververidis’ families who had once lived in Canada
(Kula and Jacob (Jack), and Takis and Maria, lifelong friends of Stell who had
lived in Germany and now have a homes in Ierissos and Thessaloniki. Addie will remember Takis as the man
who carved the big fish at a multi-hour dinner years ago.
We had a table and eight chairs delivered by pickup truck
earlier in the day (borrowed from Galitsanos Restaurant). Stell, to my great surprise, stuck to a
systemized schedule I had designed to make sure we had all the ingredients we
needed. First we stopped at
Mazoutis Grocery and got some plastic forks, aluminum foil, coca cola, and a
Styrofoam chest for the ice. He
also picked up a bag of lemons, but discovered when we got to the checkout that
he had not had them weighed, and since the lines were long, we decided we’d get
them on the end of the trip home. The cashier was the normal Greek frowning
cranky character who looked like she had eaten a bag of lemons. Our next stop was the lykee (open
market), but here I only need laundry detergent.
Onto Sultana’s for an ouzo and appetizer. Always a nice idea to break up a day of
shopping. We headed then to the
liquor warehouse and purchased a case of retsina and a case of Mythos
beer. Stell likes to support this
local guy, but we discovered that the prices at Mazoutis are actually better,
so I determined that later I would buy my Metaxas at Mazoutis. This “exhausting” adventure led us to
Miloz beach bar for a second ouzo and extended rowdy conversation with the Rowerdes
(the German family), followed by our at-least-an-hour swim.
When we completed the swim we stopped by the Maraggio
Restaurant to pick up five servings of potato salad, pre-ordered, and then we
headed to the “ice-house” where we were sold crushed and cubed ice by a feisty
Eastern European gal named, Jessica.
The price was four euros, but I gave her five because I liked her
attitude and it was impressive to see her lifting the containers into the jeep. Of course we needed meat if we were
going to barbecue, so we went to the Karavasillis’ butcher shop and purchased
feta, sausage, hamburgers, porkchops and souvlaki. Our last stop was Mazoutis (lucky it is right at the end of
the street before we turn onto our bumpy pot-holed goat path road home. Stell this time had the lemons weighed
and we purchased taramasalada and tipiti spreads, some nuts, and two loaves of
bread.
We had suggested the guests come between seven and seven
thirty to observe the sunset before dinner. We had already been advised that the Ververidis probably
would not arrive until 8:30 p.m. because they have an increasing number of
grandchildren, and in Greece the grandmother assumes the major responsibility
for feeding them and “eventually” getting them to bed. Around 7:30 p.m. a white utility van
deposited the German family at the end of the driveway. They were a bit stressed because the
plan was that they would come with the two Ioannis’ cars, as they were staying
as guests in the Marcos hotel. But
they said when they left Ioannis Marcos was just leaving for swimming. As they are Germans, and they knew he
was scheduled to do the cooking at our place, they were exasperated and felt it
rude to come late to our home.
So Michael had flagged down this Serbian guy and he deposited them at
the end of our driveway. The van
had no windows so they were all withering from the heat of the interior of a
windowless vehicle. Michael paid
the guy 10 euro. We settled them
down with drinks and Stell had me prepare some appetizers of feta sprinked with
oregano and oil, and the two spreads for bread. Helena sliced the bread. Vincent, Helena, and Paul especially were starved, so they
gobbled almost all of the bread before the other guests arrived. This somewhat stressed Stell, but I
personally found it amusing. The
next car arrived around eight – the Greek-Canadians (who we weren’t sure were
even going to come), followed by the two Ioannis families at 8:30 p.m. None of the Greeks felt in any way they
were late, because in all truth they were not, because they go by Mediterranean
Time. The other couple, Takis and
Maria, never arrived and the next day we learned from Takis that he merely
forgot. This is also a measure of
Mediterranean time. Ioannis Marcos
is a typical macho grill master, so he after drinking a couple of Margaret’s
tsiparos, got into cooking the meat.
We watched the sunset, listened to some rock and roll, followed by a
coyote serenade. There was plenty
of food and drink, Michael sang an ancient song his grandfather had sung in Germany
(I videotaped this), the Canadian-Greeks said adieu and took the younger ones
(stuffed with bread) with them as they wanted to hit the Kozi and Cocoa Bars in
the village, and the rest of us told stories of our relationship to Ierissos. The next day the Germans rented a small
house for a year for 250 euro a month.
Stell did the translations for the transaction.
All of this is to convey the message that Greece is truly
timeless. (By the way, we arrived
home this morning at 3 a.m. following the Full Moon Festival.)
Tuesday, July 26,
2011
After our wonderful
boat excursion yesterday to Vouvarou, we stayed at home and read. At about 8 p.m. we had guests, Stelios
(our yardsman) and his wife Vasso.
Vasso has also seen the local dietician and has lost 27 kilo this
year. Amazing. Stell had gathered bunches of oregano
before I arrived and hung them at the back of the house to dry. Stelios took them down while he was
here and put the bunches into a plastic bag. He put on a pair of work gloves and began to extract the
oregano from the stems into a plastic bag. He took this home and will now work the bit and pieces
through a sieve so I may truly be bringing home some Stavraqu oregano. The problem I have is that it really is
ready for picking from the beginning
of June until the middle of July – so by the time I’m here it has started to
seed. Anyhow I saw more of the
process this time. Years ago,
Stell’s mother, showed me the correct way to pick it. This brings me to another story told to me at breakfast by
Stell which I had never heard before.
This story was encouraged by the storm we had last night. I actually went outside at 7 a.m. to
take some photos of the sky. The
pictures don’t begin to capture how spectacular it was.
Stell’s Story from
his Youth
When he was young and
there would be a storm like this, his mother would get him out of bed before
daylight to collect snails. They
were particularly plentiful on a hillside where the cows now graze. He said in no time they could collect
three hundred escargot. His mother
would put them in some type of container and go to church. By the time she was back home many of
them escaped and so they had to hunt them all over the house (there idea of an
Easter Egg Hunt, I suppose). Then
she would boil them with onions and
black pepper. Stell said he
always wondered how they excreted their waste. Yes, this was our breakfast topic: snail poop.
He’s been told two theories.
One is that they excrete through their saliva. Another man told him that they don’t live very long
and the waste is simply collected in this little sac at their tail – and then
they die. None of the conversation
strengthened my resolve to like escargot.
I did have it in my early years of coming to Greece and didn’t find it
something to write home about – although that is what I’m doing here.
Today I hope to get some more of the fresh
cherries at the open market and perhaps take the material to Via for her work
in her new seamstress shop. That’s
my news.
Tuesday, July 26,
2011
After our wonderful
boat excursion yesterday to Vouvarou, we stayed at home and read. At about 8 p.m. we had guests, Stelios
(our yardsman) and his wife Vasso.
Vasso has also seen the local dietician and has lost 27 kilo this
year. Amazing. Stell had gathered bunches of oregano
before I arrived and hung them at the back of the house to dry. Stelios took them down while he was
here and put the bunches into a plastic bag. He put on a pair of work gloves and began to extract the
oregano from the stems into a plastic bag. He took this home and will now work the bit and pieces
through a sieve so I may truly be bringing home some Stavraqu oregano. The problem I have is that it really is
ready for picking from the
beginning of June until the middle of July – so by the time I’m here it has
started to seed. Anyhow I saw more
of the process this time. Years
ago, Stell’s mother, showed me the correct way to pick it. This brings me to another story told to
me at breakfast by Stell which I had never heard before. This story was encouraged by the storm
we had last night. I actually went
outside at 7 a.m. to take some photos of the sky. The pictures don’t begin to capture how spectacular it was.
Stell’s Story from
his Youth
When he was young and
there would be a storm like this, his mother would get him out of bed before
daylight to collect snails. They
were particularly plentiful on a hillside where the cows now graze. He said in no time they could collect
three hundred escargot. His mother
would put them in some type of container and go to church. By the time she was back home many of
them escaped and so they had to hunt them all over the house (there idea of an
Easter Egg Hunt, I suppose). Then
she would boil them with onions and
black pepper. Stell said he
always wondered how they excreted their waste. Yes, this was our breakfast topic: snail poop.
He’s been told two theories.
One is that they excrete through their saliva. Another man told him that they don’t live very long
and the waste is simply collected in this little sac at their tail – and then
they die. None of the conversation
strengthened my resolve to like escargot.
I did have it in my early years of coming to Greece and didn’t find it
something to write home about – although that is what I’m doing here.
Today I hope to get some more of the fresh
cherries at the open market and perhaps take the material to Via for her work
in her new seamstress shop. That’s
my news.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sorry, I know this journal is not in sync date wise, but so
be it. These two photos are first
of Stellios and Stelios (the name is so common in Northern Greece). The younger Stelios in the photo is
Niki’s father. He works at a gas
station on the main street of town.
I learned from Stell that he had gone years ago to the American Farm
School (like Stell’s sister, Anna), but I have no idea what he studied and
clearly they do not teach glasses on operating a gas station. We bumped into him because we were
headed to a new hardware store to purchase two small ice buckets with
tongs. These are used at most of
the bars and restaurants here, and we like them so we thought we’d take a
couple home. We found them and they
were very inexpensive – always good.
This other photo is of a couple Lakis (Mihalis) and his wife
Sula. I’ve only to know them a
little this summer. What is the
real shocker is that she often comes with him to have an ouzo at Sultana’s. This pleases me because it adds one
more woman to the mix of men.
Lakis and his son run a huge battery shop, and we purchased two big
batteries from him earlier in the summer which we needed to operate the
electric solar system here. While
we were at the shop he showed me his turkeys, pheasants and some other exotic
fowl he raises in addition to a huge rabbit hutch where he breeds rabbits for
food. I had the same sad feeling I
experienced when I saw the new little goats at the Karavasilis’
state-of-the-art goat facility. I
did learn from Nicos that once the kids are fed, he still milks the mothers as
they produce a lot of milk.
Today we have two appointments. The first is to go to the church where I am instructed by
Stell’s sister Anna (who takes painting classes at age 81) to take a photo of
an icon that she wants to paint.
The story of the icon is that when their father, George, was in one of
the several wars here in Greece, he was captured but escaped. He promised God that if he could
survive, he would make a gift of this icon. Stell’s mother said it cost an entire oxen to purchase the
icon. I don’t know how great a
photo I can take, because it tends to be rather dark inside the church, but I’m
taking both my video and still cameras.
I asked Stell why Anna didn’t have her nephew, George Katsaggelos, take
a photo since he is truly a professional, but I guess he’s not in Ierissos
often. He teaches photography at a
university in Thessaloniki.
After the photo shoot, we have been invited by Ioannis
Ververidis to the Maraggio Restaurant for fish. I like these people very much, but the fish is not so
appealing to me. However, my
husband is thrilled. They will be
fresh, caught just last night or this morning. I’d rather eat octopus!
So now I’ll return to my camera to see if the photos I have
will yield a few more stories of the summer of 2011:
This photo is of me standing near the oleanders to show you
how big they are now if you have been to our house.
Actually they will probably have to be trimmed back this
year.
It’s amazing how they
multiply.
Yes, these are brassieres for sale at the St. Elias Festival
at the end of July. I’ve talked
about this in earlier journals.
This festival begins on one evening and extends to the afternoon of the
next day. The religious dynamics
are to walk up a hill to the church and light a candle. Otherwise, it is a “typical” festival with
souvlaki stands, Romas selling balloons and other silly trinkets, eating
chickpea soup, and yes displays of women’s undergarments for sale. It is hilarious to see the women
rifling through the bras. Lots of
colors, styles, and boob sizes!
The young woman in this photo is yet another Maria. She works at a very upscale sweet shop
called Elysees. Last summer Chris,
Cody and Corey befriended her because they liked the shop which had wonderful
internet access. They continued to
communicate through the winter, so Chris sent some gifts via me this summer and
Maria has given me a package to return to them on Saturday. She attends the University in
Thessaloniki, but I don’t know what she studies. She’s very tiny and extremely friendly. She always offers us an ice-cream, but
lacking a sweet-tooth, I’ve never taken her up on the offer. I’m surprised that Stell also declines,
and strange as it may seem he is a person who prefers to eat ice-cream in the
winter.
These photos are of lunches at the Karavasilis. We had four lunches and they are always
a gourmet experience. We had two
meals at the parents’ home, and one at Georgios and Anna’s and the other at Demetra
and Vasilis. We had moussaka,
goat, pork (a whole pig roasted on an electric spit), and so many incredible
side-dishes I can’t name them all.
We always started with tspiparo from my vineyard. Of course, the thrilling event was when
we learned that Demetra and Vasilis new daughter, born in late June, would be
named for us, Stella Margherita!
We had no idea this was going to happen and were absolutely overjoyed
when they told us.
