Ag. Panteleimona

Most liturgies at the exoklisia are hosted by one family and have a small gathering. Not so with Agio Panteleimona. There was heavy traffic on the road below my house in Aetofolia of cars heading to that church. Although the church is located in a remote setting, there is a dirt road that goes directly to the church. The liturgy started at 7:00 pm and there was already a long line of cars when I got there.






The courtyard of the church was full of people. Many looked on from the doorway. The seating outside was full. To the left, it was a long line of only men. To the right, it was a long line of various families sitting side by side. Faviana found her friends and went and sat with them by the entrance to the church.










The liturgy actually lasted awhile. It seemed like Father Rihardo wanted to put on the full mass since he had such a large gathering. The setting itself was beautiful and I stood outside looking out to Draconisi, a large rock in the sea or just milled around the courtyard. There were several religious people who actually wanted to listen to the service and shushed the talking crowd outside of the church at various religiously sacred times.







After the service ended, various guests broke out the refreshments. There was plenty of raki to be had, fried tomato dumplings, tiropites, chocolate covered cookies, merengues, almond cookies, cake, and some other unidentified deserts that passed by before I could look at them. The people greeted each other, Kai tou Xronou (and to next year) and they all took off, sated from food and drink and proud to have done their duty religiously. What a great panagiri!

Jimmy's Wedding

It was a beautiful sun-ripened day -- perfect for a wedding. We saw Jimmy before the wedding and he seemed very calm and happy about his upcoming nuptuals. There was no last minute running around or nervousness about the preparations. He had the carefree Ikarian demeanor. It was around 4:00. The wedding was at 7:00 in Xilosirti. The courtyard outside Ag. Marina was dressed and ready to go. All the tables were covered with white tablecloths. The glasses and silverware were on the tables. The trees had white gauze wrapped around their trunks and there were white paper lanterns hanging on a wire from the church across to the kitchen. The head table was decorated with white toile and delicate gauzy butterflies floated on each corner. The beautiful flowers from the altar would be the last to arrive with the wedding party to complete the wedding atmosphere.


We arrived back at the courtyard in Ag. Marina at around 9:00. There were already several tables of guests seated and waiting for the wedding party to return from Xilosirti. The food was prepared and the wait staff was going around placing red and white wine on the tables. The bread came next. The wedding party arrived around 10:00 and the wedding reception was in full party mode by 10:01! The band started playing. The wait staff started serving the food. There were healthy portions of rice and goat, mezedes of tomato and cucumber salad and spanakopita. The wait staff had what initially looked like a door with handles on either end and they would load the platters on this 'door' and serve tables at a time.



Jimmy and his bride looked very happy and the kefi was on fire. The violin player came down from the band area and set the dance floor on fire. Guns were popping at various intervals (loud bangs), confetti poppers were being set off and confetti rained on the dancers.

My children had fallen asleep early. At around 1:30 am, I packed the kids and the various guests (7 total) in the Merc and headed back down to Aghio Kyriko. I really did want to stay and I heard reports the next morning that the party started to wind down at around 6 am. I also heard that they put Jimmy in the kazani and flavored him with pepper. I wish I was around to see that! However, I was happy I got to be there with the newlyweds and share in there joy. Na zhsete eutuxismenoi!

Going home to Perdiki

I have such fond memories of my Grandmother Angeliki. I remember her sweet smile the most and even now when I think of her smiling at me, it brings me comfort. I remember her always asking if I were 'tris eutuximenh'. I wish I could tell her about my life now and tell her, I am, Yiayia, I am.

Going home to Perdiki was just as much about as seeing the house where we spent such fond summers as children as about visiting Yiayia and saying hello. It had been such a long time since I visited her gravesite and brought her flowers.
The road to Perdiki was alot steeper than I remember, alot smaller than I remember (it only fit my car at times) and alot more curvy. However, when I reached Filenaspa and made the turn, my heart beat a little faster with excitement. Perdiki was absolutely the same! Look, there's Panagia church! Look, there's Ag. Marina church! Look, there's Alexi's bus! Look, the vounari and Yiayia's house!



The vounari was now a parking lot for cars and I parked my car right alongside the others. From the outside, the house looked absolutely the same but as I drew a little closer I started to see the tell tale differences. The trees looked thirsty. The garden that my Grandmother tended had weeded over and was dry and cakey. The gate to the courtyard was rusty and age worn.

One of the strongest memories I have as a child is sitting in the courtyard at a plastic table under a canopy of grapevines counting the amount of flies that had fallen prey to the fly swatter that my Grandfather would wield with deadly accuracy. The table was now gone and the grapevines were valiantly trying to bear their fruit. The visino tree that Yiayia used to make visinada from had dried up cherries. Visinada is still my favorite drink/gluko only because it reminds me of my Yiayia.

I could almost see Pappou burning the trash in the courtyard. As a kid, I thought that was the coolest thing. Who knew anything back then about dioxins. Burning paper and plastic still reminds me of that big blue metal drum that Pappou would burn everything in.

Going through the house, I could almost see Yiayia sitting by the fireplace or Theia Dina making french fries in the kitchen or Pappou smoking by the garden. What odd things memories are. They're like ghosts populating the empty background. I started to cry as I went through the house. It made me so sad to see the house so forlorn and empty. I did not stay long. I miss them so much. As much as I want to, I can't revisit the past. Ghosts, memories, there there to remind us to savor the present.

Pictures to Friends without Borders

Friends without Borders

It is an odd thing to be on vacation as a child. I don't right much remember what it was like as a child coming to Greece with the exception of how hard it was to make friends. Back in my day, it seemed that everyone else was tight friends and took to new kids on the block like cats to water.


I was slightly unsure of what it would be like for Faviana. Of course, she came with the open hearted love of a six year old for her dear friend, Eleni, whom she hadn't seen in a year and a half. Eleni is also seven years her senior and I was unsure whether she would return the same fervent desire to play together.


Fortunately, Faviana's enthusiasm was justified and she played very happily with both Eleni and Nikoletta, Eleni's six year old sister, every day for the first month and a half. There is also another girl, Carmela,11, (or Karamela, as Faviana unintentionally calls her) whose mother recently has let her out to play with the other girls. All four of the older girls crowd around Baby and play with her too.


Here, in Aetofolia, no one is left out. They are friends without borders. Gender, age gaps and language barriers are crossed with no problems and all are accepted into the play group.


As the summer has progressed, the play group constricted on weekdays and expanded on weekends as the Athenians come for weekend holiday. We had Yianni, 14, for two weekends playing with the girls in the church square. He's now gone 'till August. We had 2 year old Josephina for a week but she went back to Athens as well.


Today, in the village there are ten children 16 and younger. There's Florian, 16, who voluntarily opts out of playing in the village with the girls, his younger sister, Kathryn, 14 and her friend Jacquelyn, also 14, all three of whom are from Cologne, Germany but bought a summer home in Aetofolia. There's Carmela, 11, and her two second cousins from Athens, Mary, 4 and Tenya (Stamatenya) 2. There's sisters Eleni, 12 and Nicoletta, 6. And of course, there's Faviana, 6 and Ava Argyro, 10 months.


Depending on the game, they all get to play or the younger ones get sidelined. Oddly, Faviana plays no matter what the game even when Nicoletta sits out. Ava Argyro loves to watch no matter what's getting played and most times Nicoletta plays with the baby when the older ones are going at it playing soccer or volleyball. Faviana acts as translator between Jacquelyn and Katherine and the rest of the girls. Jacquelyn, or Zaklyn, as they call her here, speaks English fairly well and then translates the unknown words to Katherine.


Baby and I watched today as the older girls played soccer. Zaklyn and Faviana played two on two against Eleni and Kathryn. Carmela was ref. Nicoletta played with the baby. Mary tries to be top commander and pushes her way in and out of whatever's going on. When the games were up, all of us, with the exception of Mary and Carmela, both of whom were not allowed to go, went for an ice cream to Agni's Taverna in Kato Kleisma and back.

A Humble Paradise

Yesterday was the grand opening of Eugenie Coumantarou's black and white photographic exhibition at the old Ursuline school at Loutra. The exhibit is part of the summer long festival of the Municipality of Exombourgo. I was interested in going but I felt a little hesitant since I didn't know exactly where it was or if I would know anyone there. Little did I know.

The opening started at 8 pm and I set out from Aetofolia with the kids at around quarter to. I arrived at Loutra, turned the car around at the end of the road and then parked at an incline on the side of the road at the head of a line of parked cars. More cars were arriving and passing inches from the cliff on the one side and the parked cars on the other, turning and coming back to park ahead of me.

I strapped the baby in the bjorn and took Faviana by the hand. She didn't want to hold my hand. "I will stay next to you. I don't need to hold your hand. I'm old enough!" I took it anyway until we reached to top of the stairs to the school because the drivers here don't pay attention to kids on the road .

Elisabet, my 70 something year old neighbor, told me that she used to board at the Urseline school as a young girl. The creme of Athens and all of Greece used to attend the private school. Every two weeks she would walk home through the foothills for a day to see her family. The Urseline school operates in Athens now and the municipality uses the old school grounds as a public elementary school for the Kato Meri.

The school is nestled in the groove of the hill and the wide stairs descend to an open courtyard. The building has beautiful window moldings. One window has a wood frame of different shapes and different colored panes fitted to each shape. The interior has tall ceilings and large rooms. There was no furniture and the starkness of the white walls emphasized the dark tones of the pictures bringing out the contrast.

It was free admission. There was a young man seated at the entrance with books and a receipt book. He also had a price sheet. 12x16 were 200 euro, the middle size was $400 euro and the large, which looked around 4 feet by 5 feet, was 1000 euro. The book was 35 euro. The exhibit (and the book) was entitled A Humble Paradise (after a line in an Elytis poem).

I took my time walking around giving each piece its due consideration. It was all familiar topography viewed from familiar vantage points. The first wall had vistas and scenery. The next wall had livestock, pigs, cows, horses etc. The room adjoining this one had all the large photos. There was one in particular I wouldn't have minded in my family room. It was of an aloni (a threshing pit).

Back into the main room, the next picture moved me. It was of a sheep farmer with the sheep behind him. He was looking into the distance holding a burlap sack over one shoulder with one hand and his dog had bounded up and the man was hugging him to him with the other hand. As I was gazing at it, I realized that the sheep farmer was actually someone I knew! It was Donado.

The next several photos were of livestock, then a photo of a man in the crook of an olive tree. Wait, that was Loran, Eleni's dad! The next photo was a great shot of a couple gathering olives with a dovecote in the distance behind them. Oh, that was Eirene and Loran, Eleni's parents! As I approached the fourth wall, it was all shots of places I knew.

The last wall was all portraits of Kato Merites (people of the four villages, Komi, Kalloni, Kato Kleisma and Aetofolia) in their everyday clothes going about their everyday business. Look, there's Pippino! Fragkoula! Popi and Ianni Darmis! etc.

I walked out of there admiring the collection. The photo exhibit may have been black and white but I was a bit green on the inside. She had just done what I had been doing for the past several years. Do I not walk around with a camera everywhere I go? Do I not snap photos of everything and everywhere? She just beat me to the punch and I felt a little ko'ed.

I ended up buying a book as I wanted to be able to leaf through the pictures at my leisure and admire them one by one.
The courtyard was all full of Kato Merites. And here I thought I would know no one! I saw Pippino and went over and asked him if he knew her and he took me over and introduced me to her.

I felt an instant kinship to her. She was a Greek American like me with two sons around Faviana's age. She was nice and down to earth. She told me that the book came about from her daily walks with her sons when they summered in Tinos. She wanted to preserve the heritage of her children in photos before it aged and disappeared. Wow. Her husband is from Kato Kleisma (Dimitris Pavlakis, they have the house with the dovecote just at the V crossing from Kato Kleisma to the road that connects Komi with Kato Kleisma. Her aunt started the Musum of Cycladic Art in Athens. The book was in cooperation with the museum). The book itself is only pictures of the people, places and vantage points of the Kato Meri.

Dad came to the exhibit later and he walked around. He was a little unimpressed. "Kai esu den na ta kaneis auta?" "Don't you do the same thing?" though I did walk in on him this morning going through every page of the book one by one looking at all the pictures and reading the introduction, which was written by Pavlaki (her husband). He was touched by the text and enjoyed the pictures.

Last night on the drive home I saw Popi and Ianni Darmi. I stopped and made a comment on how they're famous now. I even told her that I bought a book so I can admire her from the States. She said to me, "Oh and I was going to give you a book. (She had gotten two as a present as both she and her husband were featured separately in the book.) I asked her, "Don't your children want a book?" She responded, "Ti na to kanoun?" (What will the do with it?)

A Day in the Life of Ava Argyro

I am now ten months old and there's so much I can do. I wake up around 7:30 or so. I like to hang out and play for a while, then eat, and do my business and then go back to sleep. In the morning, I hang out with the fam on the back balcony. I wake up from my nap in about an hour. Sometimes I'm antsy and it takes my Mom an hour to put me down for my nap! When I wake up again, I like to play for a while, then eat and then do my business. I'm pretty regular like that.


There's lots of things I do now. I can stand while holding on to something. I can crawl on all fours. And boy, am I fast too! I have a whole bunch of things to say all the time. My mom even understands some of them. She catches words like, "come", "cat", "come here cat"and "ball". I hold my hand out to the kittys and say "ela do gata", "come here cat" and open and close my hand to motion them to come.





Strangers love to come up to me when we go on our daily walks and talk to me. People here have no compunction to touch me and start talking to me. They always ask how old I am. I'm a big girl now. I'm ten!


My older sister loves to get in the play pen and play with me. So much so that she broke one of the boards today. I'm happy about that because I can't stand being closed up. I want to be free to move around. I want to be unfettered. I don't even like being behind the wall of pillows on the bed when I wake up. I yell out real loud and my Mom comes and picks me up right away -- before I even start to cry!

I like to hang out with my Pappou. He lets me roam around on the floor or on the bed behind him as he watches tv. I investigate the window next to his bed or watch the peristeria (doves) from the window.


I love all animals. I watch the peristeria from the balcony and follow the cats on my daily walks. When I roam free, I like to pick up the ants or other small bugs that move near me.


My mom always takes them away from me though.I don't really go to the beach with my Mom and my sister. I find the water is too cold and the sun is too hot. There has to be no wind for me to go and those days are rare. I'm beginning to like the water though and have fun when I take baths. I used to cry when I bathed. I'm a big girl now and I splash the water and mess with the knobs on the faucet....


I go to sleep around 9:30 at night. There's so much to do that I don't want to go to sleep. When my mom thinks I'm asleep and tries to get up, I get up too and start to giggle. She sighs sometimes but always lays back down with me. But after about an hour, I'm tuckered out from my day's adventures and finally go to sleep.

A long way to the Damari

Faviana, Eleni, the Baby and I went for a walk today and it was a long way and somehow, someway, a story cameout of it. I hope you enjoy it.

Earth was in a miserable state. The powers that be had destroyed the mineral balance that allowed humans to be healthy. The governments were in collusion with the conglomerates and promoted the health of the environment. Even the spiritual leaders were besotted by the promised wealth from the companies and sold precious stones, the treasure of the islanders, for nefarious purposes. However, there was smog over major cities, dangerous bacteria in the ocean waters and trash and toxic chemicals leached into the soil. The sheeples were unaware that life matter as they knew it was soon to be disrupted and they would be unable to eat the food that was sold to them in supermarkets or drink the water from their kitchen faucets. Little did they know that their food had been biochemically engineered and poison sprayed on them. Their potable water now had acid deposits from the toxic rain.



There was however one last bastion of safe food and water. This small village nestled in the bosom of the mountain had been overlooked by the far reaching arm of the government. Their produce contained no chemicals and their water source came from deep within the bowels of the earth. The people here were all elderly and had not learned any of new ways that the conglomerates had been promoting. However, the outside world sparkled and beckoned to the youth and almost all had followed the asphalt road. Most of the homes sat unoccupied, boarded up and ravaged by the winds and time. Besides the elderly, only one family with two daughters remained.



There came to this village another young family, one that knew horribly well the terrible state outside the village parameters. They ate the non altered food and drank the waters. They grew strong and healthy but what of the rest of the world? The mother had heard of the legend of one plant of considerable healing powers but could not recognize it by sight. It was one that the wealthy and powerful disdained as a poor man's potion and set no credence to its formidable effects. Legend had it that the aroma brought harmony to the mind, the tea restored the rightful mineral properties of the body, and the essential oils were powerful antiseptics and antibacterials. She only knew the name. The mother asked the elders if they knew of this plant. None knew of such a name. The mother despaired for the future. Time passed.


The young daughter befriended the native girls. She also told them of the legendary plant and told them of the pungent aroma associated with it. The eldest native daughter believed she knew where it may grow but the location was far and it was a formidable road. She volunteered to lead the expedition.


The mother, her two young daughters and the eldest native daughter went in search of the one plant of healing. It was a long walk to the Damari, the last place where this mysterious plant could be found. The travelers were ill equipped. They had no water or food and their shoes had been reduced to tatters so much so that they resembled thong sandals. The winds were violent at 9 beaufort and in some places pushed the weary travelers along.


As they left the village behind them, they passed the pasture fed animals and a little beyond that, the slaughter pole. Hooves and horns littered the path. The landscape started to change. Green, grassy fertile fields became dry, barren red soil. It almost seemed that the land could not support life anymore. The path became flat and rocks were exposed from the bedrock where the company had come in and blasted to remove the precious stones. The red earth was soft and slippery and difficult to walk on. The children became tired but plodded on with hope as their strength.


Small thorny plants soon started to litter the path. The flowers that blossomed on these plants were also made of thorns. It made the going difficult. Brambles soon joined the thorn flowers. The children paused as they searched for ways to cross over or through these harsh plants. They finally reached a stone wall. The stone wall lined the perimeter of the mountain, creating even terraces of incline and depth. It was crossing one of these terraces that an aroma stopped them in their tracks. They whiffed and instantly felt a restful feeling come over them. This must be it! They found the legendary plant! Salvia officinalis.


It was really nothing to look at. It was a round, low-growing shrub. Its lance-shaped leaves were grayish-green and felt velvety to the touch because of very short and fine hairs covering the leaves. The flowers were creamy-white to purple-pink and grew in whorls in groups of 2 to 6 at the top of the central stem. They picked all of this plant but could find no other.It was much more difficult on the return. The path was slippery and descending the mountain was far more dangerous. The sun had burned their skin and they were all dehydrated. The moon also glowed brightly in the day sky.


Their return to the village was flush with joy and accomplishment. They showed their treasure to the elders. Salvia officinalis! They found it. The elders looked at them with incredulence. This? This is what you were looking for? To them, it was as common as the blue sky and the brown earth. To them, it was a plant of no consequence for they used it everyday and everyway. To them, it was Sage.

Organized for the organized beach

There are numerous beaches on Tinos island but there's only one beach that we would frequent on our summers here and that would be Kolymbithra. Of course, that's its official name. Kolymbithra actually consists of three different strands of sand. There's the Kalloniotiki paraleia or stin megali ('the big one' because it's the biggest stretch of sand), the Kompiani and the Agapiani. Kalloni, Komi and Agape are three villages that have used these beaches for ages. The Kallonioti beach is great when there's no wind otherwise the waves can be powerful and dangerous. The sand goes on forever and the best spot is at the farthest end in the corner. All the locals go to that spot. The Kompiani has always been the most popular with summer residents because even if it's windy, the waves are the mildest here. It has a good stretch of sand with a tavern at the one end and bathrooms, a changing area and showers at the other. The Agapiani is also favored by the locals because it's not a very popular beach. There are large slabs of rock that make it hard to swim when there's waves.

A couple of years ago, a guy from Komi decided to 'organize' the beach. He's set up permanent umbrellas, 48 to be exact, and beach lounge chairs, 2 to each umbrella. To rent an umbrella and two lounge chairs, 6 euro. He's also built a store on the beach. You can get all your drinks, ice creams, newspapers, sun lotions and toys for the beach right there. He now calls the beach 'organized'. This past week, he's organized the Agapiani side as well. He has umbrellas, bathrooms and a cantina for food and drink.

Well, I too, am organized for the beach. If I take the baby, all the necessary accoutrements can be daunting. First, I park the car by the steps near the showers. Then I pop the trunk and pull out all our toys. We have the umbrella, the neat sheet to put down, two sets of flippers, two masks, two snorkeling tubes, the baby's boat, suntan lotion, cameras, body board, two sets of towels, the baby's swimsuit, which I put on her there, a set of paddles, 4 balls, and a partridge under a pear tree. Then I pull the baby out with her car seat, swing her on my arm and find a way to grab all the aforementioned stuff. Faviana takes her hat and goggles. Then we walk down the steps and find a spot on the sand to set up camp.

When it's windy, things can get hairy. It's very hard to put the neat sheet down on the sand when the wind tries to snap it like a flag. Well, that done, I put the baby on the sheet and then try to set up the umbrella. The wind has already destroyed the first one. Flipped it inside out and tore it to shreds. This new one is bigger, heavier and had more promise. I shoved it in the sand and used all my formidable weight to push it in. It looked steady. Fortunately, Dad came with me today (only his third time out of the past thirty that he's hit the beach) because the wind blasted my bigger, heavier umbrella. It picked it up and tossed it head over pole all the way to the trees in the distance. It looked like tumbleweed in a ghost town flying across the sand. Thankfully, no one was behind us. And Dad showed me how to intelligently pound the pole into the sand with a rock. Duh!

Sheet down, umbrella in, baby under the shade, Dad watching over her, Faviana and I can go swimming! We take our frog fins, masks, snorkeling tubes and body board and head to the water. With the waves pounding over us, we put our gear on and head in. Faviana uses her board so we can swim deep. Swim over, we come back out and Faviana wants to play paddles. Dad decides to play with her and I can take the baby into the ocean.

How does baby enjoy the ocean? Now that it's warmer, she actually enjoys her swim. I put her suit on, hold her close to my body and start walking into the ocean. When the water reaches my waist, it starts to touch her feet. Baby lifts both her legs up as if she were sitting in the air. I go deeper and now her butt touches the water and she'll put her hand in and start to splash. Finally, I put her in and tow her left to right, right to left. She laughs, she giggles, she soon gets cold so now I pull her out and head back to camp. I change her, dry her and put her on the sheet to play. Faviana and I start to play paddles and then just throw the little ball back and forth to each other in the water.

Pulling up camp is just as fun. First I have to put all the toys in various bags, put the baby back in her car seat, pack up the umbrella and then the neat sheet and figure out how to balance everything and head back up to the car. Totally tired but totally refreshed from the stifling hot weather and pounding sun, we head back to Aetofolia.

There was a Greek Priest, a Polish Priest and .....

For years the priest served the parishes of the Kato Meri was Pater Antoni. He was funny, personable and prone to enjoy the raki that flows like water in Aetofolia. However, as most situations dissolve into gripes and bites around here, three years ago or so, he was relocated to Kardiani. The bishop assigned a new priest, Pater Rihardo to these parishes. Pater Rihardo (or Richard) is a Polish immigrant and speaks Greek fluently but with a very heavy accent. His Greek however is not the obstacle to the people's hearts but his cold Soviet style manner which does not befriend him to any of the villagers with the exception of the Stamna family.


As I listened to the villagers on their front stoops have their say to each other about him and his ways, I assumed that a grain of salt should be applied to most of their angst. However, what you hear in this situation is what you get. When I first saw him I didn't even realize that he was the priest. There was a burly shorn blonde walking through the village wearing jeans, a striped polo shirt and a briefcase. I expected to see someone with a black shirt and a white collar. There is no white collar here.

One of the problems that the village has pertains to the community center that is attached to the church of St. John. A doctor comes every week to tend to the infirm elderly folk and usually goes to the community center and writes prescriptions. Father Richard decided that he didn't want to give the key to the community anymore. The villagers were up in arms over the fact that they had to visit with the doctor in someone's home (no patient privacy rights there). They stopped Father Richard on the street after a liturgy and told him that they wanted the key for the doctor. He said no.

Last year, the community of Aetofolia decried the good name of Pater Rihardo to the local and Athenian newspapers. There is a marble quarry less than 1 mile from the village that the church has the rights to mine. A company approached him and an agreement was reached between Pater Rihardo and the company for them to mine the marble and pay the church 1 Euro (no, that was not a typo) that's right, 1 euro for the cubic meter of excellent quality marble so that they can throw into the ocean and create a buffer in the bay at the port town. The community of Aetofolia took the company to court and won. The company was fined 380,000 euro and they abondoned the project.

Yesterday, there was a liturgy at Sacred Heart, a small church in the fields above the well source of the village. The Armaou family had requested the liturgy for the well being of the family, of which these are the pictures. Pater Rihardo conducted the liturgy and then there was supposed to be a town meeting at the community center. None of the winter residents attended. There was only my father and I and three others, one of which is the community president but all only summer residents. Pater Rihardo said as there were no villagers there to decide the matter of the key to the community center, he will still control the access. There was also the matter of the 30 square meters that the community had requested from a land parcel that the church owns to build a playground for the children. Pater Rihardo, took two newspaper clippings out of his briefcase, threw them on the table and said I will NOT sanction the 30 square meters for your playground for the children becuase I'm still angry that you maligned my good name to the newspapers over the marble situation. Loud voices, angry words and bitter feelings ensued. I wonder who's next in line...

Eggplants, stoves and the never ending kitchen construction

My earliest Tinos memory involves my Grandmother Iakoymina standing by the propane gas powered stove cooking. She was an amazing cook and many people I encountered, even this summer (and she's been gone now 18 years), still talk about one or more of her various entrees or desserts. I, in particular, remember how succulent an eggplant dish was. No eggplant has ever measured up since and I almost avoid eating them in disappointment.

As you can tell from the picture, the propane gas powered stove is still in use today. That stove has to be more than thirty years old and although Dad bought an electric stove with oven a couple of years ago, the electric stove has been little more than a shelf to put things on. That might soon change.

Today, Faviana and I came home from an early morning beach day to discover that the kitchen cabinets had finally arrived. We have been in Greece for over a month and although these were ordered over six months ago, the carpenter arrived today, along with three of his workers to put them in.

Well, they measured, they cut, the drilled holes in the stone walls. They placed the bottom cabinets, the placed the refrigerator. They even placed the upper cabinets. However, the upper cabinets were put in 3 cm too low and now the lid of the kitchen stove grinds against the hood everytime you open it. Four of the cabinets were not cut yet. The carpenter and his crew left with the promise to come back soon.

We believe they'll be back within the two months that we have left in the village but you're never really sure with the way people work here. Dad says he's going to ask them to raise the cabinets another few centimeters when they come back to put in the four missing cabinets.

The kitchen looks really nice. We cleaned out the cabinets, put in our groceries. Washed all the cups and dishes as they were all covered in dust that the carpenters kicked up. We'll put those away tomorrow. Funnily enough, the little propane gas powered stove is still alive and kicking. The old travel proven valise that propped up the stove is now in the kotoi (the old stables) but the stove itself resides on top of the new spangled electric stove and Dad made this fantastic eggplant imam on it that almost rivaled Yiayia Iakoymina's.

Water, Fruit and Gripes

Water is the main source of life here. As almost everyone in the village is either a professional farmer or a serious hobby enthusiast, all cultivate fruit trees, vegetable gardens or some variation of both. In fact, even we have lemon and fig trees in our garden.

According to Dad, there exist water rights in the village. A hundred years ago or so, these water rights were divied up between the existing families and set times were given as to who can use the water when. As these were antiquated times, the dowry went to the sons. Nothing was given to the daughter. So my great grandmother, Katerina, whose family had water rights, was given none on her marriage. Of course, times change and in the next generation, dowries were given to the girls but that's neither here nor there as we are in present day and dowries are given to none. But let's stay in the present, where we as a family, have no water rights. We cannot even put a hose on the vrisi (faucet) on the road and draw water to water the very thirsty lemon trees. Our bougainvillea on the other hand seems to do just fine without any water at all. We won't even mention the poor grapevines in our field as some goats had 'wandered' into our yard before we had gotten here in June and ate all the leaves and grapes off the vine. So we will talk about gripes.

Carmela and the various Stamna family members will on odd times wander from the kato horio (down village) to the pera horio (the over there village) just to see if Pippino has put a hose in the vrisi to water his garden in the field beneath his house. If they see the hose, they'll turn off the faucet and pull the hose out. The Gabelli's do that too. Although oddly enough, even though they have a water time, they still come to that same vrisi to water their plants or wash their swimsuits or clean their pavement with.

Dad gripes about the water because he has no water rights. Annezoula gripes about the water because whenever it's her turn, she never seems to have any. Carmela gripes about the water because, well, let's face it, that family is greedy and if they could swing it, would take all the water. In fact, they have an illegal well on their property that runs pretty deep. I'm not sure why nobody rats them out. Ntonado doesn't gripe about the water because he buys stremmata (lots) that have water on them and then runs hoses down the mountain. If one bothers to look there are dozens of hoses following the road that come down the mountain. Whoever has water just brings it down to his garden.

And then there's the non-gripers and they share the bounty of their labors. Mantho left us melon. Ntonado's dad brought us tomatoes and eggs (and even two turkey eggs). Ponti gave us potatoes. Georgia Mixeli brought zucchini. Eirine gave us apricots. Fragkoula just brought some very fresh cut, moments off the vine, cucumbers, which Baby enjoyed munching on. The Darmis gave us tomatoes. Ioanna Gre gave us baby eggplant that was absolutely succulent. In fact, they share the fruit of their sweat with all the villagers, farmers and non farmers alike.

No Wind, baby