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The freak

the freak

sequel to coming to life – May 2002

An almost toothless mouth

He sits down and smiles at me with an almost toothless mouth. I have noticed more often that the older Greeks do not have the best cared for teeth. Is that a question of poverty or pathological fear of the dentist?

“Hi, are you the Dutch lady who wants to have sailing lessons?”

His speaks English effortlessly. His voice is pleasantly deep, almost raw.

“Yes, I am, why you ask?”
“My friend Vito told me about you”

Vito

Yesterday I met Vito on the beach, an energetic slender Italian man, I estimate a little older than me, with a huge bunch of hair. He seems barely able to sit still. Always moving. He seemed absent to me and when I asked if I could get sailing lessons, I got no clear answer. I left it for what it was.

“I currently live with Vito and his family, We are good friends. I live in a tent in his field near his house. “
“You speak English so easily!” I interrupt him. “How come?”

Three marriages

He tells me that his first wife is from England, that he worked as a taxi driver in London and has a daughter with her. Unsolicited, he says that he has been married three times and has children with all women. He seems to be proud of it.

“Is this your first time here in Thios?”

“I was here for the first time in October of last year. I arrived at midnight and then took a walk along the beach. It felt safe and familiar. The next morning, when I walked from the boulevard into the village, I saw up the road the shop that sells drums. I always wanted to have one. I got goosebumps and wondered; what kind of place is this? Magic? A few days later I bought such a drum and brought it to the Netherlands as hand luggage. “

Raki in a small wine glass

Teodor brings him his Greek coffee and not much later this typical small wine glass filled with raki. Normally raki is served in a petite little glass. Teodor is still playing with his digital camera.

Our conversation is lively and within no time we have a summary of our lives on the table. He seems an intelligent man and has led an unusual life, that is immediately clear to me. He grew up on a Greek island as the son of a fisherman. He would have liked to study but there was no money for that. The Greek Orthodox abbot had suggested to his parents to take him into his monastery and to pay for his studies. His parents did not agree. Fisherman is a decent profession.

Persona non grata

One morning his mother asked what he would like to eat that day, but he never ate that meal. On the same day, he signed on as a 15-year-old on a ship to America without saying anything or saying goodbye. He just disappeared and would return years later.

He is a persona non grata for his family. I can empathize with both him and his mother.

“And you?” he asks. His twinkling eyes don’t let me go.

The picture

I tell him that I am divorced, have two children, have a nice job and lead a happy life. After being severely depressed for a few years I got my life back on the road again. It’s easy to talk to him. Sometimes he bends his head downwards diagonally. It appears to me as a sign of agreement or understanding.

In the meantime, the village has come to life. It is a coming and going of tourists and locals. Some tourists walk down the street in their swimwear. Something I don’t understand. The old mayor who is sitting a few tables away is nodding his head above his newspaper. Sometimes he is startled by surprise. There is nothing wrong with his eyes and they follow the women in their bathing suits. I order a second cup of coffee and Teodor brings another glass of raki for my table companion.

“The only thing I really have trouble with is letting people go,” I continue. “I am very loyal”.

“Can I take a picture of you two?” asks Teodor. We turn away from each other towards the camera and smile into the camera together.

music: Demis Roussos-Come waltz with me

To be continued…

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Getting alive

Getting Alive

May 2002

It is only 7 o’clock when I order my coffee outside at the hotel in the main street. The restaurant has just opened. I think it’s a wonderful place to sit. I see the village come alive. The greengrocer removes the burlap sacks from her vegetable crates, which are kept outside all night. The men drink their minuscule cups of Greek coffee before they get started. At this time of the day, the frapé* cup with inside a bag of Nescafé instant coffee and straw is the best-selling item in the supermarket together with the bottles of water and croissants. The baker sells his tiropitas* and spanakopitas* and bread that will have lost all appearance of freshness after a day.

Shopkeepers and restaurant owners do the last of their shopping. The periptero* opposite the hotel that sells candy, ice cream and cigarettes has also opened. It’s a kind of drive-in. The customers stop, let the engine run, jump out of the car, settle their bill. The man in the kiosk knows which brand is being smoked. When they drive on, the cleaner air returns. The village is awakening.

What a memory

On the day of my arrival, Teodor, the owner of the hotel, greeted me by name. “Gia sou Lilith! Kalos tin! Ti kaneis?”*
Last October I ate several times on my own at their taverna, but that he still remembers my name?

He brings me my coffee and shows me his new camera that he purchased yesterday. It is a digital one. He does not yet understand exactly how it works. Well, men and manuals, I think, but say “You will manage”.

Fruit juices and croissants

Meanwhile, parents from nearby villages arrive in their pick-ups to bring their children to school before they start working in the nearby greenhouses and fields. The surrounding mountain villages are so sparsely populated that there are no schools anymore. Fortunately, this village is full of children and there is a kindergarten and primary school. They briefly stop at the supermarket where packages of fruit juice and croissants for the children are purchased.

The main street

The village consists of a one-way main street with some side streets that lead to the sea or to higher streets. It has approximately 400 inhabitants. Some of the villagers are only here during the holidays and vacations. The rest of the year they live in Heraklion or Athens. You hardly see most of the inhabitants but just a small group of familiar faces who hang around every day in the kafenions* and taverns.

The first tourists also find their way to the bakery. Obtaining the bread is apparently a job for the men. Some greet me when they pass by. “Kalimera“*. The Greeks always greet.

A freak

A little man arrives, his head hunched between his shoulders as if someone were about to hit him. He walks in a peculiar way as if his short-curled head wants to go faster than his slender body. His hair and moustache are black as well as his thick eyebrows but his short beard is grey. The grooves in his face delineate him. He is wearing a green sweater that seems too warm for the time of year, baggy trousers and slippers. A leather cord with glasses is hanging around his neck. His skin is as dark as someone who spends all his time outside. He reminds me of an Aboriginal. He looks at me and walks past without saying anything.

After a few steps, he suddenly stops, turns to me and asks:
“Can I join you for a coffee?”
For a moment I think, “What does that freak want from me?”, but his piercing amused eyes are decisive;

” Yes, please sit down.”

At that moment I could never have imagined that this decision would have such an impact on my life. Not only the village, but I also came to life.

continue: The Freak

Music: Nena Venetsanou – Lilith

φραπέ – cold instant coffee
τυρόπιτα – cheesepie
σπανακόπιτα – spinachpie
καφενείο – traditional cafe
περίπτερο – kiosk
για σου – hello
καλός τιν – short for  καλως ηρθες/ηρθατε – welcome
τι κάνεις – how are you
καλημέρα – good morning

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Girl power

Imposed cheerfulness

Like every morning, I turn on the radio first.
♫ All I want for Christmas is you ♫ from Mariah Carey is the first song I hear. Shit, already? The melancholy hits like a bomb. Gosh, three more weeks of imposed cheerfulness to go.

The past

Christmas used to be fun. When I was still part of a family. First as a child, later as a mother. Tree rigging, shopping for nice gifts, wrapping everything nicely in shiny paper. The scent of a real Christmas tree that welcomes you for three weeks when you come home.

It had to be a large one, from the floor to the ceiling. The room had to be redesigned and the cupboard under the stairs could not be used during those weeks. The cats left the Christmas tree in peace, as long as we didn’t hang any balls on the lower branches. My biggest challenge was cooking for sixteen mouths, but it was tasty and fun.

No ýou’ for me

♫ All I want for Christmas is Youuuuuu ♫
I have no “you” and I am no longer part of a family or couple.
And I feel that, especially around Christmas. Absence of loved ones.

Come on, I have things to do. No time to pay attention to Christmas melancholy. I still have three weeks for that. I am expecting my girlfriends for the somba * project.

The wood oven

The pipes, the corners, the hooks and the chains. It’s all been bought to install my wood oven. My Dutch “know everything better” girlfriend Maya has told me what to buy and what I have purchased. Elefteria, my Greek friend right from the start, agile and with great fine motor skills, has a concrete drill and comes to drill the tripes * for the hooks for me. Crosetta, Italian, has not seen my new place up here in the mountains yet so she’s coming too. The plan is that we install the wood oven in a more central place in the house, then make a meal in the oven and play cards.

Wood, a lot of wood

I have to hurry, I have a lot to do. I want to wash my hair and I have to get the pipes out of the car that is parked at the entrance to the village. Our village is like a labyrinth and the streets are so narrow that you can’t get in it with a car. My move has taken place with a small tractor. This morning, my landlord will also pass by to give me the key to the wood storage opposite my house. Fortunately, I can pay the timber stock in instalments because 350 euros in one go is too big an attack on my modest income. I hope the wood lasts me two winters.
As a Christmas gift, he brings me 5 litres of his homemade wine.

Girl Power

Circus monkeys

For a few hours, my girlfriends are standing on the table, on the wall in the kitchen, on chairs or on the small steps to get the construction in the air. More importantly, keep it in the air. Like a bunch of circus monkeys, they play antics to get the pipes in place. Everything crashes down twice. My second computer screen just came down in the process. The pipe does not fit in the corner piece, the drill bit is not the right size, there seems to be a pipe shortage, the pipe outside of the house should actually be replaced. I have forgotten the tape for sealing the connections.

She does know better

The steps are not high enough and Maya is the ‘lucky’ one since she is the tallest of the bunch. What the others don’t manage she has to step in. What I wanted, the construction across the room isn’t possible according to Maya, and it shows. As the day progresses we increasingly come to the conclusion that the construction must be provided with two corners and cannot run obliquely through the room.

Determination

Fortunately one of my neighbours has aluminium tape at home, my girlfriends are determined to fix it, and I let everything happen. I can’t climb and clamber myself and I don’t have much strength in my hands either. They have known me for years and know that I am clumsy and unusable. I make coffee, make sandwiches and encourage them.

Girl Power

Proud

When the fire, at last, is alight, no smoke is escaping anywhere and the food is in the oven, all four of us finally sit in peace at the kitchen table. We admit that we all had a desperate moment, but we did not want to give in. I say they can be very proud of their work. My screen is still working. The floor has been swept and mopped, the couch has been moved to a different place and I am enjoying the view of the room with the pipe construction.

Christmas

The plans for Christmas are discussed during the meal. Maya and I have plans to spend Christoúgenna* together by the fireplace that is also present as a heat source. Crosetta is not going “home” this year, and according to Maya, our common friends think it’s a good idea to ride up the mountain to celebrate Christmas at my place by the fireplace. We agree that everyone prepares some food and brings it along. More than one litre of the red krasi * has found its way into our stomachs. The rest I keep with the wood in the storage. For Christmas.

Girl power

The melancholic feeling of this morning has given way to a happy prospect. I feel blessed and I am very happy with and proud of my friends. Girl power!

Music: Bette Midler – Friends

η σόμπα – the wood stove
η τρύπα – the hole
το κρασί – the wine
Χριστούγεννα – Christmas