Back in Greece

• *Warning: This entry is in ligo Greeklish and co-authored by Ashley and Grigoris **

I went with one week without Internet, so I need to play catch-up…

Last Sunday morning Takis, Marili, and I drove to Piraeus to catch the ferry to Xania, Crete. We walked around for about twenty minutes searching for a place to sit, but we were unsuccessful. So we just found a spot on the floor and camped out there for seven and half hours. It was actually rather painless (better than the flight over here). We played cards, watched movies, and slept (I was still recovering from jet lag).

When we arrived to the port in Xania, Grigoris was there on his bike to show us the way to his spiti. His apartment is right on the shore overlooking the Aegean Sea. We unloaded the autokinito and then headed to a little area called Platanias where we at a restaurantaki called Almira’s Family Restaurant. (I feel like we’re a family, so it was appropriate.) After receiving our orders of tzaziki (yogurt sauce), patates (potatoes fried in olive oil), loukanika (sausage), apaki (smoked pork), ensalata, ntakos (Greek brochette), stuffed mushrooms, saganaki (fried feta), and some kind of pizza with stuff on it, we ate in the Greek-style that I so deeply missed. We dove our own pirounis into the food and ate straight from the plates. Reaching over each other and using fingers are encouraged. With full stomachs, we drove back to the apartment and went to sleep.

The next morning, Takis, Grigoris, and I went to the supermarket together. (Grigoris is currently reading this as I write. He’s making fun of the details and asking if I want him to go get the receipt to list all of the items we bought. I told him that he’s Greek, and I would understand if he was too lazy to go get it. He’s still sitting here.) I love going grocery shopping in Europe because I like to compare the prices to America. It’s pretty much the opposite. Beer is dirt cheap and milk is expensive. After we went back and unloaded the groceries, the four of us went to a beach called Costa Costa in Agia Marina.

The Greeks are true beach bums, and they know how to truly relax at the beach. At Costa Costa (and like so many beaches in Greece), you select an umbrella and chairs, plop your stuff down, and order a frappe that entitles you to stay there for the rest of the day. With the classic European electronic pop music blaring through the speakers, we sipped on our frappes and enjoyed the sun. Occasionally Marili and I would go into the sea together. Unlike most of the beaches here, there were pretty strong waves, and my bottoms weren’t tight enough, so I didn’t last long. But for a while we laughed together and taught each other words in our languages. (kymata = waves) Takis and Grigoris played racket ball along with every other Greek man in the area. It’s played with wooden paddles in a tennis ball. It’s like paddle ball; the only rule being—don’t let the ball hit the ground.

[Grigoris einai enas malakas. Oh wait…according to Takis…he’s not.]

Later in the evening we went downtown to Xania and walked around the marina. Even after midnight there were shops and restaurants filled with people. We walked around for an hour and then sat down for drinks. I ordered a martini, and Marili told me it was “gunpowder” in Greek. When we got back to the spiti, Takis and Marili went straight to bed, and Grigoris and I stayed up until 5:30 giggling and listening to Takis snore. We discussed squirtles and squirrels.

I awoke around 12:30 in the afternoon, and we all got in the car to drive about an hour and half to another beach, Elafonisi. After resisting puking all over Takis car because he drove like a mad man around the curves, I climbed out of the car and followed the three to the beach. But the beach we wanted to go to was on a small island, we walked about fifteen yards through a small “straight.” The water was flowing from one side of the island to the other, so it was like crossing a small river. We spent the rest of the day there until the sun went down, and then went down the road to a small taverna in a small village called, Elos.

Because I’m the only American this time, we’ve been speaking Greek a lot more, which is good for my language skills. But as I mentioned earlier, it can get quite frustrating not always understanding what is going on. The three of them will be carrying on a conversation, and I’ll try to contribute but end up butting in with some irrelevant topic like the amount of olive trees in the fields or color of the sea. (Or when Takis is making some of his ridiculously silly jokes, I’ll lean over and ask Marili in Greek, “How do you do it?”, referring to her relationship with Takis. But instead I think I’m asking something a little bit more personal about their relationship in Greek, and she just smiles and chooses not to inform me.) I can always tell my comments are way off topic because they will all three force smiles, nod, and then continue with their discussion. Sometimes when Marili and I try to converse and fail, we just resort to laughing and singing “Poker Face” because we both understand the words. It has become the song of the trip.

But today I found myself being more in tune and understanding more. During our dinner in Elos, I would occasionally chime in with an actually relevant joke or two in Greek. Marili and I started to communicate a little better. She thought it was funny to teach me very difficult words in Greek, the funniest being “odondoglifdi,” toothpick. I kept ending up saying “odondo-Glyfada” (which is the area outside of Athens where Marili lives). On every restaurant table in Greece there are odondoglifidia, so we unwrapped a few and got some good pictures.

We drove back to the house, and Marili, Grigoris, and I played “B.S.” Marili won. I think it’s because she dates Takis, so she’s used to detecting B.S.

The next morning we woke up and went to a beach about two hours from Grigoris’ apartment. The normal routine seems to entail getting ready for the beach, cramming into the car, stopping to the get frappes (the unofficial national drink of Greece), driving for an hour or two, stopping at a kiosk (which are prevalent throughout the entire country), and then going to the beach. It sounds like a lot of work, but it’s the perfect combination of land and sea scenery. During the car ride, we are surrounded by fields of olive trees with rocky mountains in the distance and the occasional appearance of the sea. Sometimes we arrive to the beach, but I could still use an hour or more in the car.

Anyway, we arrived to this beach, Preveli, which is basically a strip of sand between the mouth of a small river (the only one I’ve ever seen in this country) and the sea. With both a sandy and rocky shore overlooking the sea with spotted islands in the distance, it’s a beautiful beach. The only catch is you have to literally walk down a mountain with hundreds of steps. So we climbed down in the hot Grecian sun. We lay out, explored some small coves among the rocks, and then rented a paddle boat to go up the river (which was actually more like stream). Along with several other tourists, we docked the boat and explored the small waterfalls up stream. For about an hour we waded in the water, climbed the rocks, and fell all over each other. Then after all that, we returned the boat, gathered our belongings, then hiked up the mountain. Marili and I walked at our own desired pace. We kopeles stick together.

On the way back, Marili and I were really hungry. We kept asking to stop to eat. Takis and Grigoris told us that we would stop to “drink coffee” and then eat dinner later in the evening. So after about a half hour, we finally stopped at a village for coffee. But after walking around, for some reason or another, Takis and Grigoris didn’t want to eat there. So we got in the car to find another place to “drink coffee.” We stopped in a small village to walk through an old castle/fort. We had fun running around, poking our heads through random holes in the walls, and taking ridiculous pictures. On the way back to the car, Marili and I committed grand auto theft and drove off with Takis’ car. Well, we didn’t even leave the parking lot, but we still got a rush from the illegality. When we let the boys back in the car, we thought, “Surely we’ll go get ‘coffee’ now.” But we ended up driving for another half and hour, and on top of that, getting lost. So Marili and I started joking, “Now we drive for about three hours, we ‘drink coffee,’ drive a little more, go home, faint from hunger, go out to dance, go to sleep, and in the morning THEN we eat.” During all of this, memories of my theios starving me last summer came rushing back. An hour later we found a beautiful restaurant on the sea with fresh seafood. We sipped on some ouzo and finally ate my absolute favorite, xtapodi…octopus.

The next morning I made a bunny’s nest (toast with a fried egg in the middle) for Marili. They had never had them before, so Takis watched attentively. When I was done, he made one for me. I’ll have to admit—it was pretty good. Then once again, we piled in the car and drove. This time we drove for about a half an hour to a port to catch a boat to a popular and incredible beach (there are only two ways to get to this beach—by boat or SUV, which are hard to come by in Europe). When we got to the port, the price and schedule didn’t agree with us. So we drove about an hour to Xania to rent a “Jeep,” the Greek general term for any SUV. We got an open Suziki Jeep and drove back toward the port to the beach, Balos. For an additional half hour, we curved up the side of the mountain on a dirt road with nothing but the sea below. After stopping to take picture of goats and a hedgehog, we finally made it to the top. From there, we had to walk another half hour down a very rocky path down the other side of the mountain. This mountain was twice as big as the day before. The beach connected the mountain and another small island with clear water on each side. One of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen. Only three hours later, we packed our bags and walked back up the mountain in flop flops. Now I can consider myself a true Mountaineer.

On the way back from the beach, we stopped at a restaurant/pool on the beach called Nero-Mylos. There we “drank coffee” and swam. On the way back to car, once again, Marili and I ran ahead, but this time I drove. At the boys jumped on the back and I started to drive around the parking lot, but then I convinced them to get in and to let me drive. They had been saying that they can’t imagine me driving even in America. They had also been complaining about women drivers. I had told them unlike most Americas, I have a manual. And unlike most women, I can drive. So with the sun setting on the sea, I drove the old beat-up Greek Jeep along the coast back to the spiti tou Grigori.

It would have been the perfect ending to a perfect day, but we still had more perfection to complete. While the boys returned the Jeep, Marili and I rushed around in the apartment to get ready for dinner. Takis and Grigoris came back, and we went to downtown Xania to eat at a restaurant where we had reservations. We ate a wonderful meal with Greek dishes I had never had before. It was a lovely dinner, and then we went dancing at a club right on the beach called Mambo.

We did a lot more, but it’s late and I’m tired. Tomorrow Grigoris and I are going to “the center” of Athens to go shopping while Takis and Marili work. Later we’re all going to the beach. Grigoris may also take me to various American schools in Athens to start looking for a job for next year! Kalinixta.

Visions of me on a motorcycle drive by,
The cigarette ash flies in my eyes, and I don't mind, I smile,
And say the world doesn't fit with me.
You don't believe me, I'm so serene.
Careening through the universe, my axis on a tilt, I'm guiltless and free

-Third Eye Blind

This afternoon we are leaving for Chania (Xania) in Crete. Marili, Takis, and I will catch a ferry to meet Grigoris at his house on the shore. I couldn’t ask for better travel guides.

I’ll start where I left off…

Yesterday evening Grigoris and I went to meet his friend for frappes while Takis went with Xristos to I don’t know where (hopefully not Starbucks). We sat and chatted with his friend Stavros for about an hour. He mainly talked in English, but he tested my Greek some, too. Afterwards Grigoris took me to his house, and I met his mother, father, and younger brother, Odysseus. (What an awesome name! It’s not a very common name here, either.) His mother is from Argentina, but she has lived here for eighteen years. I love this story…

Grigoris’ father was in the Greek navy, and when the ship was docked in Argentina, he met Grigoris’ mother (I already forget both of their names). Anyway, they fell in love, but he had to continue serving in the navy, of course, and left. They kept in touch, she waited for him, and he came back for her. They got married, lived in Argentina for about fifteen years, and moved to Greece when Grigoris was ten and Odysseus was five. *sigh*

So moving on…his entire family speaks Greek, Spanish, and English (but his mother only speaks little English). Talk about an overwhelming language experience. I would understand them in Spanish just fine, but then they would switch to Greek and I would be totally lost, thinking I didn’t know nearly as much Spanish than I had thought. Then by the time I realized they were speaking Greek, they would switch back to Spanish. And when I would try to respond to their questions, I would speak Granglish (my term for a mixture of all three languages). Even though it was a little exhausting, I enjoyed every minute of it. Those two hours made up for the lack of opportunity to practice both languages in West Virginia.

His mother served me homemade pastsio, bread, a real Greek salad (no lettuce—only tomatoes, cucumber, onion, and feta), and fresh figs that her husband had just picked. Then Theios Ilithios (“Uncle Stupid” aka Takis) arrived, and we all switched back to Grenglish. We sat for about another hour on the balcony, then Grigoris had to leave to catch the ferry to Xania in order to “prepare the house.” (But he had forgotten that his mother had just been there the day before for vacation and had cleaned it.) Before we left, his mother gave me a mug from Argentina. It is made from a hallowed piece of fruit (I’m not sure what kind, but it is the size of a large apple) with a straw made from a reed. It is used to drink the national tea, “mate.” It will probably be my favorite souvenir I bring back, and it’s not even from Greece.

On the way back to his apartment, Takis and I went downtown to collect money from his client. (I just made him sound like a dealer. He’s a private/travel masseuse. Now I made him sound like a male escort. He’s not either.) It was the first time this trip that I had seen the Acropolis. But I didn’t even get to see the Parthenon because we were flying down the narrow alleyways. I only got a quick glimpse of the wall (that’s when you know you’ve moved beyond the “tourist” status).

When we arrived at the apartment, Marili came over to help us (well, Takis) pack. She and I actually ended up distracting Takis to have him translate. But when he wasn’t readily available to translate, we ended up getting along just fine. Using many exaggerated hand motions, we mainly talked about our trip and how we will share hair products. It’s going to be a fun and educational week in Xania.

Even though I’m having the same amount of fun, exciting experiences, things are very different this year. For one, Pappous is no longer with us, and we don’t have lunch with the family. Also, I am the only American, so Takis and his friends are less likely to speak English around me. It can be very tiring to try to comprehend and communicate all of the time, but I do not get frustrated like I did in Spain. Just tired. But I still find it very rewarding, and I don’t get discouraged. But one undeniably good change is having another koplela (lady) around. When Marili is with us, the sexual jokes and gawking stares are less frequent. (Talking to a Greek male can be very annoying because their eyes are always on any female passerby.) I also learn what Greek customs are typical for all Greeks or just men.

I am so glad to be back here. I was just getting to a point in my life where things in Morgantown were getting almost unbearably mundane. And even though school will be starting soon and my schedule will change, I still felt like I needed not only a change of pace, but an escape. I couldn’t have a chosen a more perfect destination. When I am here, I don’t worry about anything back home. I have no immediate contact with anyone. Nobody aside my family and friends here knows me. I am an entire ocean away from my tote bag and “Miss King” name tag. It’s almost as if I take on a new identity. I’m not longer “Ashley,” but “Anna.” It sounds completely cheesy and exaggerated, I know, but I don’t know any other way to explain it. I’m so carefree here.

Well enough of my rant. I’m off to Xania! Geia! (Everything rhymes in this dang language.)

Oh! For your reading pleasure. Kirk sent this to me; I thought it was hilarious.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8189296.stm

I’m once again sitting in the house of Takis blogging. I love it.

I arrived yesterday morning (I think…the days are all running together). The ten-hour flight was rather painless. Only a fifteen minute delay in Philly. I ended up getting a window seat in the Emergency Exit row, so there were no seats in front of me. I was able to stretch out a little bit, but the wall for the lavatory was right in front of me. The first few hours kind of dragged on, but for some reason the last five kind of flew by. I’m not really sure why because I only slept for a total of less than two hours. (I am definitely an advocate for spanking children. The kid five to six rows behind me had pair of lungs that could have woken the pilot from a coma.) I read a good bit. But I mainly sat there giggling to myself like a mental case as I either watched literally ten episodes of Sex and the City on my iPhone.

For a good while I also listened to music and looked out the window. As I raced the sun around the world (it won), night only lasted for a few hours. But during those three hours the night sky was absolutely gorgeous. I looked out to see stars shining about a sea of clouds. I also watched a lightening storm below the layer of clouds. That and John Mayer kept me entertained for a while.

When I landed, gathered my luggage, and walked through an empty corridor labeled “Customs,” I started to search for Takis parked outside of the airport. After walking up and down the entire length of the airport twice, I decided to find a pay phone to call him. When I tried placing the call, I realized that I needed a phone card. So I went to booth, bought a card, dug my numbers out from the bottom of my bag, and began to dial his number. A woman cam one and told me that I was obviously doing something wrong—I don’t know what. It was all in Greek. After four more attempts, I finally got through, but there was no answer. I tried three more times. Still nothing. Finally I decided to call Grigoris to see if he could help, but he did no answer. The moment before I was about to panic, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around and there was my Theios Takis.

I yelled his name with my stinky breath, hugged him with my smelly pits, and gave him European kisses with my oily skin. Even after enduring all of that, he took my suitcase and we headed toward his (new) car. We started talking about our lives now and how we are the same yet different. He told me I looked more “mature,” which was a nice recovery from “older.” As we talked and laughed about last summer, it felt as if I had never left. The sights of the barren mountains in the distance, the sounds of cars zipping their way through Athens, and the smell of the sea mixed with smog all brought back sense of familiarity and security. I was (second) home again.

We stopped by a little neighborhood where Marili (Takis’ girlfriend whom we all met last year together at Sifnos) was working. She works in a small shop that sells undergarments and pajamas for both women and children. She immediately got out of her seat to give me a hug and kisses. Then she told me to “katsi” down while she ordered all of us frappes. (How I missed Greek frappes.) Now Marili has studied English for seven years in school, but she has never used it. She is very outgoing yet shy to use her English. We tried to communicate with the little English she knows and the ligo ligo Greek I know. Overall, I would say that we were successful. But many times we would just both give up laughing and hugging while Takis would translate. We sat there for about an hour with Marili while she would occasionally get up and assist customers (I love it.) I mentioned how I forgot my flip-flops (which they refer to as sayonaras because the shoes are Japanese, so they use the Japanese word for “goodbye”). Marili suggested getting those popular Brazilian sayonaras in a shop down the road. So Takis took me and insisted on buying a pair for me. We went back to show Marili, then we decided to go see Yia Yia.

Takis and I parked the car at his apartment, took the luggage upstairs, and then headed for Yia Yia’s. She had just gotten back from vacation at Nafplio with Sophia. She seemed very happy to see me, but I could tell that she wasn’t herself. Dressed in a black dress, Yia Yia would often just sit in the chair and stare out the window. The apartment just felt empty without Pappous Akis and Yia Yia’s lively spirit.

I gave Yia Yia gifts from the family (a lemon zester and garlic press), and then Maro, Takis mother and Yia Yia’s daughter, came up to see us. We talked for a few minutes, and then Takis wanted to leave to run errands at Piraeus, the port down the highway. So we hopped on the bike and headed to the port to arrange our tickets for Chania on Sunday. As we weaved in and out of traffic and as I could feel the heat of cars literally inches from my legs, both the thrill and fear of riding the bikes suddenly all came back to me. (But good news, Mom. We’re taking the car to the island, so I’ll be in a car for almost my whole trip here.) After a short discussion with the representative at the port, we jumped right back on the bike and went to Takis’ apartment. I learned that zipping through traffic has helped my reading fluency and word recognition in Greek. As you I would fly by the bill boards, I would only have a few seconds to read (not necessarily comprehend) the words. Again, I probably looked like a complete nut case because not only was I sitting on the back of motorcycle, gazing at the signs trying to say them out loud, but I was wearing Marili’s bright pink helmet.

When we got back, Takis reheated his mother’s leftover moussaka (DELICIOUS) and (REAL) feta cheese. We sat side by side on the couch in front of the TV and ate while watching Beverly Hills 90210. Around the time we finished, Grigoris came by. We exchanged greetings and then he hung out for a while. We felt incomplete with Jason, so we decided to call him. (Wouldn’t you know that this summer Takis has an unlimited phone line to the US?) I dialed the number and started to leave a message. Then I handed the phone to Takis. He got on and went on and on (“Hi Jason! Ti kaneis? We miss you…etc.), then he looked at me and said, “He’s not answering.” Grigoris and I started laughing and laughing, saying that this is why he is Theios Ilithios. (Iasouna, you need But by the time things were dying down, so was I. I excused myself and went to bed for almost three hours. When I awoke, Grigoris was gone, and Takis told me how had to go to work but at 9:00 Grigoris would pick me up to go to Marili’s house.

So after I showered Grigoris picked me up, and we went to Marili’s parents’ home. Her parents were out of town, so we hung out and ordered a ton of souvlaki. We also exchanged gifts. I had bought Girgoris an iPhone case and spare earbuds for his iPhone, Marili two shirts from Hollister (which are hard to find in Europe, apparently), and Takis two shirts he all ready had from Abercrombie (figures I would find the same two shirts). Then Marili and Takis presented their gift to me—a beautiful beach bag (or “sea bag”) for Crete. I could tell that she was very worried about whether or not I liked it. I told her I loved it, and we both tried our gifts on.

Soon after the souvlakia arrived, so did Marili’s two friends (a couple). The six of us sat outside on the balcony, and then five of them spoke in Greek while the one of me sat there and tried to make sense of the stories. I learned some new, useful works such as “Plaka (mou)!” (you’re joking me) and “aleithia” (really). I caught the overall gist of most of the stories, but occasionally Grigoris or Takis would translate. But mostly they would play their little games where they would tell me an obscene Greek word and give it a false translation. Then I would repeat it and they would laugh. Then I would catch on and roll my eyes. I wanted to call them “malakes,” but I didn’t want to curse in front of people I didn’t know. So I just rolled my eyes and continued to look like the stupid American. Or sometimes Marili would tell Takis to translate jokes, but they contained such strange Greek humor that I didn’t understand them. (I.e. “Why did the last Russian “prostitute” die? Because she learned the others were being paid.” ??? My point exactly.) It was frustrating, but I really didn’t mind. I’m getting my ears used to the language again.

Marili also served me karpouzi (watermelon) and peponi (melon, my absolute favorite). This type was more like cantaloupe rather than the honeydew type, but I was still so excited to eat it. I took a big juicy bite and let it melt in mouth with satisfaction. Suddenly the sweet taste turned bitter, and I tried not to make a face. But of course they were all watching me because I got overly excited when she brought the bowl out, so Takis started to say something in Greek. He took a bite, made a face, started playfully yelling at Marili, and got a napkin for the two of us to spit out the spoiled peponi.

“Exoume duo toualetes,” I said. (We have two toilets.)

After a while I went with Grigoris and he dropped me off at Takis’ apartment. It took me about an hour to figure out the lock on Takis door, but I finally made it in. Takis came in soon after we brushed and flossed in the two adjacent bathrooms then went to bed. (Takis changed his apartment a bit. He took his brother’s room, the room Jason and I stayed in last year, and made it his room [now with AC]. Then he took his old room and made it into a study. But he insisted that I sleep in his room while he sleeps on the floor in the study. What a great host.)

This morning I slept in until 11:30 (jet lag), and Takis had just come back from dropping off his car at the garage. He brought back fresh spanakopites (spinach pies), tiropites (cheese pies), and sausage pies (I forget the name, but it’s literally filo dough with a hot dog in the middle) for breakfast. Again, we sat side by side with our breakfast and watched some cheesy Greek drama. I love this bonding time with my uncle.

About an hour later, I went with Takis to get his hair cut and a gift for Marili’s Name Day. (In Greece, Greeks celebrate both their birthdays and the day of the saint after whom they were named.) While I was waiting for him to get his hair cut, I mad friends with an adorable little three-year old girl. Again, I love conversing with children because we’re about on the same speaking level. When we got back to the apartment, Takis 6’0” friend, Xristos (Chris), picked us up in his tiny Smart Car, and we got Takis car. On the way back, Xristos and a motorcyclist started to argue. They stopped in a small street, yelled at one another, held out their hands with their fingers stiff and palms showing, and the drove off. Apparently this is very common.

I am currently sitting in Takis’ living room looking out the window at the Aegean Sea, sipping my Greek Coca Cola, and watching Takis and Xristos frantically search for a lighter. They are too “bored” to go down and get one from the car. Grigoris just arrived, and we’re going to his house for “a coffee” now.

Geia!

Only four more days and I’m soaking up the sun on the Grecian shores! The closer I get to Thursday, the more tangible things seem. And the little processes of packing make at all the more realistic, as well. Last week I picked up my Euros from the bank. Tonight my mom and I freed my travel companion (my giant black suitcase) from the back of the storage closet. And after sending out a panicked search and rescue team, we successfully located the watt converter kit. I’m just about ready to go! The only thing left on the list is to go to Walmart and buy essential toiletries—the most essential being 50 SPF sunscreen. (And yes, I’m prepared to endure the tan Greeks jokes about my white, American skin.)

But the most exciting event that has occurred this week…actually just occurred. My dad just called informing me that he had just opened a letter (addressed to me) that had been sitting around the house for an entire month. (Trust men. I did not know about this letter, otherwise I would have ripped it open four weeks ago. This is the same letter I have been checking my mailbox for every day for the past month.) Anyway, I just found out that I have received a major scholarship. How it relates to this blog? The more I have been preparing for this sojourn, the more I have been stressing about the finances. I began to question whether or not I should even be going. Next May I will be graduated and financially independent. I won’t have an official job until August when school starts, and even then I’ll have to spend money to pack up and move to wherever I plan to teach. And I’ll definitely be spending money if I get a job overseas. Anyway, as I said, I started to question my decision to spend the money now for another trip to Greece. But tonight my Dad called to tell me he finally opened that piece of “junk mail,” and I will receive this money in the middle of the month. He pretty much dialed the phone for God and delivered His message: “You’re meant to go now.”

And even though I have hours of preparation to complete for my student teaching and I could stay here and earn money instead of spend it, I know that it’s all ok, and I am meant to go.
So go I will! My flight leaves from Pittsburgh on Thursday morning. I then have a layover in Philadelphia. From Philly I fly to Athens, where I will arrive on Friday at 9:00 am Greek time (or pm if you’re Greek)/ 2:00 am West Virginia time.

AND Grigoris emailed me the other day. He will actually be in Athens for both my arrival and departure! I thought I would only see him during the one week in Xania, but instead I will see him for the entire two weeks! Now I won’t be the third wheel with Takis and Marili, and I’ll have someone to hang out with when they go to “Starbucks.” Another blessing from God.

Lately I’ve been longing for a dip in the Aegean Sea, a juicy bite into fresh piece of melon, and a deep breath of highly polluted air and cigarette smoke, so I decided, “What the heck? I’m going back to Greece.”

This trip, however, is going to be a little different. First of all, I’m only going for two weeks, and Greece is my only stop (excluding my connecting flight in Philly and my taunting hour and a half layover in Venice). Second of all, I’m going alone. No Jason this time. :-( I don’t know how I’m going to survive being the only American participating in the unique Greek festivities, but I will. I guess I just have to keep every “Did he really just eat that?” and “Oh my gosh, are we really driving a motorcycle down a busy sidewalk?” and “You want me to help bury a dead dog?” to myself. Well, at least until I write in this blog and report every minute detail back to you all. But it won’t be the same, I know.

And once again, I don’t know how often I will have Internet access. I may actually try to bring my laptop along with me, even though it’s heavy, bulky, and ancient (maybe I should just leave it on the top of the Acropolis where it belongs). But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll be able to get on the Internet. I know that I didn’t come across any Wi-Fi spots in Athens last year, but I may get lucky this year. So I may get over there and write fifteen blogs; I may write two. We’ll see. For a while I debated whether or not I should even start this back up. I know that I’ll have a smaller audience this year because I’m only going for two weeks. Most people won’t even know that I’ve left the country. But I really loved keeping this blog last summer, and a lot of you were really encouraging and enjoyed reading it. Plus it was lot easier for me to write this than to compose fifty emails saying, “Yes, I’m alive, and this is what I did today…”

So here we go again…

It all started a couple of months ago. I decided that I needed to get away—to get out of the country. I needed a true vacation. So just for the heck of it while I was being a seemingly attentive student, I started looking up flights on my iPhone during class. I saw that flights to Greece were half of what they were last year…a bittersweet effect of the bad economy, I guess. And, ironically enough, the dollar is stronger now. Anyway, one email to Takis and Grigoris led to another, and I ended up booking a flight for leaving from Pittsburgh on Thursday, August 6th and returning from Athens on Thursday, August 20th.

Oh, and to refresh your memories:

Takis- 28; Grandson of my maternal grandfather’s uncle (Theios Akis, who sadly yet happily passed away last December). Pretty much…my cousin. Lives in Athens. Prefers entertaining women over entertaining his American family members, but we love him anyway. Also believes that the six-year age difference warrants him the title “Theios” (uncle). In defiance, Jason and I called him Theios Ilithios (Uncle Stupid…it rhymes in Greek). We met briefly for the first time in 2007 when the entire family went to Greece. Then last summer Jason (Greek American cousin) and I pretty showed up at his doorstep, and he had to take care of us. The rest is history.

Grigoris- 28; Close friend of Takis. We met him for the first time last summer. He ended up looking out for us when our “uncle” was too busy “hanging out at Starbucks” (aka staying out all night). He pretty much is our cousin, too. The four us (Jason, Takis, Grigoris, and myself) hopped on the motorcycles, rode all around Greece, and quickly became family.

Sophia- it's rude to reveal a woman's age; Takis' aunt and, therefore, my aunt. (In Greek families, any elder to whome you're not sure how you're related is either your aunt or uncle.) Lives two hours outside of Athens in Nafplion. Admonishes her friends for teaching the American "children" dirty words in Greek yet discreetly uses them when she plays Scrabble.

Yia Yia Despina- Theios Akis' wife, Sophia's mother, and Takis' grandmother (Yia Yia means grandmoter in Greek); we make life easier and call her Yia Yia too. Unlike the rest of the family members, she doesn't speak any English, but she displays her hopsitality well with some of the best meals I've ever had. She's also one of the sweetest women I've ever met.

Ok. Now that you’re caught up…

I decided to go back in August because the whole month is pretty much a national holiday, and I knew that Takis and Grigoris would have more time to hang out. But this year, Grigoris is serving time in the navy and is stationed in Chania (Xania) on island of Crete (the largest island in Greece). So here is the plan:

On Friday morning (Aug. 7), I will arrive in Greece and Takis will pick me up at the airport. He’s still dating one of the girls we met last summer in Sifnos, Marili, so I imagine the three of us will hang out for a couple of a days. Hopefully I will also get to see Yia Yia, Sophia, and Sophia's sisters. Then we will go to Chania on that Sunday (Aug. 9). I’m not sure how Takis is going to get both Marili and me to the ferry on just his bike, but the plan is that we’re going to take the bike on the ferry with us, and Grigoris will be waiting with his bike at the port in Chania. We’ll stay with him there until the 17th, and then go back to Athens for a few more days until I leave on the 20th.

I’m so excited for many reasons. First of all, I’ve only been to Crete once, and it was for a total of two hours. The cruise ship kind of dumped us off there on a Sunday morning so it could refuel. In Europe, almost everything is closed on Sundays, so there wasn't much to do. And although we ended up befriending an amiable shopkeeper, we still didn’t get to experience Crete. Grigoris has a house right on the coast, so I’ll think I’ll get a pretty good taste of the island this summer.

I'm anxious to go to the Grecian beaches, eat authentic Greek food, and listen to live bozouki. But I’m mainly excited to be reunited with my family again. Saying goodbye to them last summer was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. We had become so close, then we had to part ways without knowing when we would see each other again.

But…it’s less than a year later and I’m already back. They won’t be able to get rid of my now. I guess we shouldn’t get so discouraged when God already has it all planned out.

So I will keep you updated as the departure time approaches. It’s still hard to believe I’m going back!

Wow, this is a long entry and probably very confusing. And I haven’t even left yet.