Sure enough, he drives up to me “ahhh come- we will go for a ride, slowly slowly, I will not go fast!” I immediately make up my mind about him and decide that I 1) do not want to ride this joke of a moped 2) do not trust this guy as far as I can throw him 3) would be altogether happier if he never talked to me again. However, in a town of 1500 people, it’s best not to make enemies within two weeks of living there.
The spirit of Greece is what keeps me coming back. The feeling in the air every minute of every day. I set foot on the street and feel the earth giving me life. I place my hand on the ancient marble column and there is an invisible umbilical cord, feeding my soul.
43 days ago I heaved my Kelty Moraine 3200 on my back, walked into San Jose International Airport, and haven’t looked back. Life out of a backpack is different than any other style of life. The biggest triumph of a day (or week- let’s be honest) is a shower- a hot shower is just pushing it.
I was praying to everything I believed in, and things I didnt believe in, please stop the wind, just stop the wind. I looked back across the valley to other side of the moutain- Christos was now stamping on fires and using a branch to put out another fire at the same time. Oh, I’m going to kill him if he lives through this.
I slowly used my imagination to fill every spot in the theater with people I know, faces I remember- even if only in passing. Now, with a full audience I proceeded to give a speech. It’s of no use to you what the speech was about, but it lasted for about 15 minutes before I politely excused myself from my imaginary audience as I was starting to get a sunburn.
oday he came to my door with homemade chicken soup and rice, bread and he even brought me a spoon! (yeah, no spoon in my flat) This was completely unexpected so I responded with “soup! Thank you SOO much! ” uh oh. Busted. “Brandy- what did I tell you? Now I am late, I must go”. With that, he was gone.
as I write this I am sitting on my balcony staring into the forested mountains of Flokas. The air is scented with the
~ My Balcony ~
blossoms of all the orange trees in town, the budding jasmine and of course, a slight tinge of cigarette smoke. (duh, its Greece) The sun is coming through the cypress and pines to find its way onto my face and shoulders, kissing me as lightly as a lover. My breath comes easier and I cannot erase the smile that is plastered onto my face. I’m home… for now.
Sitting with a Greek family in their home on their most sacred and revered holiday of the year is a pleasure few foreigners are able to partake in- so Brandy the vegetarian became Brandy the willing carnivore.
So, at exactly 11:11, I climbed down the ladder without incident. Okay, minor incident. My shirt might have gotten caught on the top rung and I went down about 3 rungs before I realized I was losing my shirt- but after that- I was in the clear!
Then he comes back to the room 4 minutes later and says “IT’S THE ONE OF APRIL!!!!” Ahhh. April Fools- you don’t have a balcony… ha… ha… ha…. I’m not sure if I like this guy…