Random Notes on Greece

It’s all greek to me!
All those years of math that I thought were fairly useless in my day to day life are finally paying off when trying to read (or more accurately deciper) greek signs. It’s all coming back to me in symbols: sigma, theta, pi, omega, delta. But I read as slow as a five year old, swapping the e for an s, the p for an r, an upside down v for an l, and then squeal when I have successfully unjumbled the word. It really is the little things that make us the happiest.

Feral Felines
There are stray cats everywhere. These are not, however, the plump soft furred kitties that you have seen in the pictures, scaling the whitewashed buildings. Those cats must be studio actors or body doubles flown in from the mainland. These cats are skinny with their little ribcages protruding underneath their dusty sandy fur. They are skilled scavengers and relentless beggars. But both Ron and I have succumbed and surrendered to their almost heartbreaking charm, feeding them scraps and trying to pet them as they skittishly slunk away. Afraid of people, the kids throw rocks at them. They are the unloved and unnamed kitties of Greece, and I wish I could scoop them all up in my arms and ship them back to Dad...just kidding!

The Throne Room
What’s wrong with the plumbing in Europe? There are all these no toilet paper toilets and most of the bathrooms just plain stink. Ron says they don’t have P traps (or are they pee traps?), whatever that means, you would think they would want to partake in the advantages of modern plumbing, this being the 21st century and all. Although we have remarked on the shoddy craftsmanship of many building projects, there isn’t exactly the convenience of a home depot down the road. But just like back home, there are construction sites everywhere and no construction workers anywhere.

How many times will I walk in to the bathroom and look in vain for the lightswitch? A hundred? A thousand? The lights for the bathrooms are on the wall outside of the door, which makes me think of what mischievous fun my brothers would have if they grew up here playing pranks on me and turning out the light. I bet the joke would never get old.

Ernest Hemingway
The greek men all remind me of Ernest Hemingway who reminds me of his own character the old man and the sea. Salty sandwashed faces all craggy like tanned leather. Off white mustaches frozen in another time. Cigarette smoke encircling their conversations and the ceaseless clickety clack of kompoloi beads that add the punctuation.