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the kindness of strangers
02.17.04 (9:02 am)   [edit]
...it was over a week after the samothraki festival ended, and rosa and i had finally decided it was time to leave the island. after a couple of failed attempts, i finally made it off~but rosa missed the boat (literally). as i was saying goodbye to perice at the train station in alexandropolis, she called his phone and said she was catching the ferry the next day, so to wait for her in alexandropolis, and we would take the overnight train to athens together to meet jeo and kim.

so, i had a lovely night in my hostel, having my first hot shower in a couple weeks..the next morning i went to the atm and discovered my debit card was missing. it wasn't a credit card, so no big worries of unauthorized use, but it meant a very tight budget until rosa arrived. my credit card, which should have accompanied me on this trip, disappeared in thailand months before, and not being in the states during that time, i couldn't authroize the replacement card. so, i spent the day walking around alexandroplis; i collected seashells and walked along the beach. at 4:00 i went to meet rosa's ferry..not finding her at the ferry port, i went to the train station and found kerol, a friend i had made at the festival. i asked him about rosa...she had not made the ferry. now euroless but having a train ticket to athens, i spent the evening with kerol and his performance partner, arancha.

kerol and arnacha are street performers from barcelona. they travel around and perform in the streets and at festivals and parties; kerol is a sensational fire juggler and arancha a strong acrobatist. together they work, practice thier stunts, and improve their skills in fire juggling, acrobats, and more.

when i told kerol about my situation, and how i would have no money until i met up with jeo and kim in athens, he and arancha decided to take care of me~make sure i was fed and safe~until we reached athens~a sixteen-hour train ride. as street performers, there's no credit card, no bank account, no trust fund. the money they have is the money they make performing. when they decided to take on the added mouth to feed (me), they had 75 euros between them for the next five days, which would be the first opportunity they would have to earn more money.

we boarded our train at midnight, with a 3 gram block of feta cheese, a loaf of bread, tomatoes, and meranda, the greek equivalent of nutella. at about 4:00pm the next day, we arived at the train station in athens and eagerly i searched the platform for jeo. i had emailed him several times over the past few days confirming my arrival, and thought for sure he would meet me at the station. i asked for the nearest international bank, as i could access funds from my american account at an international bank. but oh...the banks and all government businesses close at 2:00pm on monday, wednesday, and friday in greece. of course they do. it was now 4:00pm.

kerol and arancha stayed at the station with me for quite some time, and eventually had to go meet their friends. kerol gave me his phone number and told me to call if i had any problems or if jeo didn't show up. then they gave me 10 euros for whatever i may need.

three more hours passed, and i was growing increasingly anxious sitting on the dirty floor of the sketchy train station in athens, wishing i was still in the safe clutches of samothraki. finally i took my 10 euros, slung on my backpack, and found an internet cafe to check if jeo had left message of a place to meet him. there was a message. it said, "karin, i have gone to mykinos until monday. i cannot help you now. i'm sorry. jeo."

nice.

i walked back to the train station in utter confusion. it was friday night. i started thinking about my reality, and how although in theory i could just sit at the train station for the night, already in broad daylight i had been propositioned for prostitution, hassled and panhandled, and witnessed a girl get flashed. so, it would mean a night of aggravations and absolutely no sleep~and it certainly did not feel safe.

now feeling well-freaked out, i called kerol in a panic and somewhat hysterically told him my situation. he gave me directions to take a subway to meet him. when i got to the square, i waited as he said. then two groovy-looking greeks walked up and said, "you are karin. you are a friend of kerol's and so you are our friend, too. you can feel safe now. c'mon." and with that, they picked up my backpack and took me to one guy's sister's house, where kerol and arancha and the other members of the greek guys' band were waiting.

i was feeling so distraught, so embarassed by my own irresponsibility, yet everyone was warm and caring, and assured me it was no big deal, and whatever i needed, they would help me.

the next day, i attempted to get money wired from the u.s. both my mom and jenna received distressed and tearful collect phone calls, and both, jenna~with babe-in-arms~and my mom~with three grandchildren underfoot, said they would figure out how to get me money. but, it's a big time change, and nothing happened before close of business in greece.

and so, dragging my heart in my hands, i met with kerol and arancha, who didn't even have to ask to know the answer. "okay, then, you're coming with us."

they were performing at a free performance festival, and the organizer was arranging for their lodging, but they were specifically instructed not to bring friends. kerol said, "we can't leave you here, so maybe he will be angry, but there is nothing else to do."

the festival was held in an abandoned factory in elefsina. for the next three days, we slept on the dusty cement floor in the warehouse building assigned for our lodging with other performers. and for the next three days, kerol, arancha, and others i met at the festival fed me, gave me wine and water and cigarettes. people didn't need an explanation. they didn't judge me as irresponsible for getting myself in a situation of needing other people to survive. in fact, people repeatedly said, "it happens to everybody sometime. don't worry." and smiled.

i tried one day to call my poor mother, who last heard me somewhat hysterical on the phone. but the man in the shop said, "no. international call, not today. try monday." magic monday. when everything would be all right.

and so, magic monday finally came. i went back to athens and straight to the western union, where money was waiting for me. i then went out to the pay phone, and called my mother and jenna and thanked them profusely, and let them know i was okay. next i went to the internet cafe, to find an inbox loaded with emails from a very distressed jeo, who had found a flight back to athens early to try and help me. with no phone, he was leaving me messages several times a day and waiting for me at a designated coffee shop. next i called him, and got directions to the coffee shop. as i walked along, i felt a burning need to give back, to keep the gereosity bestowed upon me over the past five days alive, but i couldn't figure out how. give money to a homeless person? which one? it seemed too contrite. in time, i thought, it will come to me.

twenty minutes later, my weary, hungry, and very very dirty body arrived at the coffee shop, where kim greeted me and escorted me to the nearest bakery, where i proceeded to order 7 euros worth of pastry. (you can see those action photos under "greece~being tourists). jeo's itinerary had us boarding our rental car promptly and heading off to olympia. i was delirious anyway, so driving in a foreign country, sure, why not? (i was the only driver)

as we started our way out of the city, i felt a sadness that i had lost rosa, that my journey was continuing without her. just then, jeo's phone rang~and it was rosa. she had just arrrived at the train station in athens. i immediately drove there and picked her up.
as soon as we were reunited, she told me that james, a jewelry maker she had met during the after-party, had escorted her to athens on the train and stayed with her, as she wasn't feeling so safe all the time. i went to thank james, and learned his entire bag was stolen~money, credit cards, airline tickets, passport. i went and got him some lunch, and as i handed it to him, he handed me a stone pendant in which he had etched a person. i had been searching for a way to give back, to keep the kindness of others and the experience i had just undergone alive and moving. james provided me with that. he gave me a reminder that i wear everyday.

on our way out of athens, i insisted on stopping for provisions. i also insisted on stopping in elefsina and repaying kerol and arancha. on their budget, arancha always order three grams of the cheapest feta, although she was often tempted to try the higher quality ones as they were reputed ot be fantastic. having asked a greek man a day or two before, i bought them his favorite feta, a big bag of greek olives, two loaves of bread, and meranda. this i brought, with 75 euros, to repay them for not only their kindness, but also their trust. they took care of me without ever knowing if they would see their money again, they trusted a stranger because they couldn't leave her to fend for herself. feeding me could easily have meant not feeding themselves.

with money and groceries in hand, i trotted around the festival grounds until i spotted kerol. i cried his name and ran up and hugged him, bestowing my gifts and gratitude. he looked at me and said, "there's the happy girl i remember from samothraki!" it was good to be me again.

thanks, everybody.
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oops
02.04.04 (4:39 am)   [edit]
~sorry about sending that to you four times~i kept hitting the send button 'cause it wasn't doing anything, but it was just slow because i had a lot of names in there!
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people people people
02.04.04 (4:28 am)   [edit]
okay..the greeks...they fight about everything! on samothraki, rosa and i enjoyed our tent community with three greeks, which gave us a unique glimpse in to greek culture. thing is, greeks wear their emotions on their sleeves, so they don't hold back to call someone on their shit. so, for example, christo and dave...oh wait a minute~let me explain something about dave~dave is not his real name. problem is, i'm so poor with names to begin with, and he reminded me so much of my former neighbor dave in colorado, that i could never ever ever remember his real name, and for fear of calling him dave, i just didn't address him by name, so now he's dave in my mind, and so, i'm just going to call him dave. not very greek, but bear with me. i'm lucky i remember your names.

okay, anyway...fighting. so christo and dave were having this conversation (in greek) that just kept going and going. we were listening and wathching for a while, and then i finally asked kostas if they were fighting. with an amused smile, he said yes. i asked what about. he said they were fighting about whose lighter it was. i asked, "do greeks fight about everything?" and he confirmed that they do. about an hour later, they were arguing again. i listened for a few minutes, and asked kostas, "are they still fighting about the lighter?" indeed, they were.

greeks are also afraid of bugs. this concept was introduced to us while rosa and i were in line to get our ferry tickets in alexandropolis, the port town nearest samothraki. a groovy little bug was hanging out on rosa's shoulder, so i invited him to visit my finger, which he did. but then he wouldn't leave. i'd blow on him to encourage him to fly away, and he'd hold on tighter! i could actually feel these tiny little suction cup-like feet gripping my finger when i blew. but that was fine, 'cause he was cute and wasn't a nuisance or anything, and he had striped antennae, so he was great visual entertainment while i waited for my turn at the ticket counter.

so, i get to the window and am getting the tickets, and at some point looked down at my finger, now resting on the windowsill, to check out my little friend. this caught the attention of the big burly greek man getting my ticket. he leaned forward and looked out the window at my hand, then yelped and jumped back in his chair, almost falling over, and slammed the window shut. once recovered from my laughter, i realized he was for real, and wasn't going to open the window with the bug there. and since the bug had no plans to move, i had to call rosa over to get our tickets while my bug and i made other arrangements.

confirmation of my question, "are all greek men afraid of bugs?" was given by kostas and christo, when at dinner one night a couple of bees took an enthusiastic interest in our meals. while rosa was cutting off the little peice of fat at which one bee was fervently tugging, kostas and christo evacuated the table. our conversation about why they are afraid of bugs indicated their certainty that most bugs are pretty dangerous.

and since this whole blog has been about greek men, let me finish by dispelling the myth that greek men are womanizing or aggressive in their pursuit of female companionship. my greek friends, the aforementioned guys and others, explained that the reputation stems from the greek men who visit the popular tourist islands like crete and mikinos, with the purpose of wooing the foreign women who may fancy an exotic and anonymous affair wtih a local man. every greek man with whom i spent time was warm, passionate, gentle, and gentlemanly. they treated us and viewed women in general with the utmost respect, unrivaled in these regards by the average american man. no offense, my lovely male friends~you're all wonderful. it's everyone else. :wink:
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