The Road to Koronisia

Monday was Independence Day in Greece!

Paris was to march in the city-wide parade so we headed downtown in the morning to see. It looked like rain and weather was clearly headed our way.

Without notice, the parade went on a half hour earlier, in anticipation of the weather and we missed it.

Instead though, we headed up to see Jeanne's mother-in-law, Marina.

I have to say that this single half-hour chunk of time may have the largest impact on me and my family than any other portion of our entire time spent abroad.

Marina lives a few houses down from where Jeanne and Yiorgos used to live in the city of Arta on a steep street of Greek "row houses" that look out over the rest of the village and the valley toward the sea. The mountains are mainly behind the village. I'm not sure if they call the houses row houses in Greece, but I know no other way to explain them. The houses are white stucco (I think) and have a front patio filled with lovely flowers and clearly vines that cover a type of pergola that are probably stunning in the summer. The homes themselves are short one and two-story houses that are essentially one room across and extend two or three rooms to the back patio all linked by a long hallway. The houses next door are all connected with no yards in-between.

Marina and her dog at her gate.

We were greeted at the gate by her large and very friendly dog (I can't remember his name... Jeanne?) who we immediately fell in love with. He is big and looks tough, but you could see his gentle, loving eyes.  Marina came out to greet us and make sure her dog was behaving. She doesn't speak English but Jeanne does an excellent job translating and we had no trouble communicating. She remembered me from our last visit (14 or 15 years ago) and commented on my short hair. She invited us in to her tidy home and served us juice on a beautiful silver tray. We sat in her front room and chatted.

Marina was shy in front of the camera. Johnny took these photos.

It is clear how intelligent, wise, loving and generous this 83 year old woman is. Johnny and Maggie did great, sitting and chatting in her humble house. She commented on how "healthy" the kids looked and it was unavoidable to not compare the excesses of American life to the typical life in Greece. All four of us could easily shed a few extra pounds and have clearly not had to worry about necessities in terms of nourishment. Marina talked about her own kids being all bones and having their ribs showing. Neither of us were being or feeling disrespected in this conversation -- she wasn't saying our kids are fat and spoiled... The comparison is just unavoidable. At one point something was said that made it clear to Johnny that she couldn't read and he was astonished that someone that age couldn't read. He doesn't think of reading in terms of a privilege yet, but instead a skill one learns over time and in his mind probably accomplishes by second or third grade for sure! She asked about Maggie, aware that we had been focusing on Johnny, and we told her that she had just had her thirteenth birthday and that she had gotten to go see her favorite band in concert. Another obvious implication that we have a little extra money to spend and Marina commented to Jeanne about this, again, not disrespectfully, just in a matter-of-fact way that was untranslatable. It was an amazing lesson for my kids to see this. We sat on chairs and a bed that were on a rug that she and her sister had made for her dowry, over sixty years ago. It was in immaculate condition, obviously a) made extremely well, and b) taken care of. It was amazing and gorgeous. At one point our discussion went to the recent loss of her husband and she teared up and let me hug her. Jeanne translated that "we can't go together" and I nodded, tearing up myself. In Greek tradition, she will always wear black now. Always be in mourning. Pictures of him, her kids and her kids-kids covered her walls and shelves and she carefully showed me these moments of her life. I loved it.

It was impossible also, not to compare her to Sheila's mom who, while she is several years younger, feels and seems about thirty years younger. Sheila's mom went to college and reads and was a teacher.

Moreover, Sheila's parents are headed to Ireland to see us this Wednesday and then, in the middle of their time here, they will head on their own adventure down the Seine and then back again to see us. They've been careful to say that they don't want too much on their plate in terms of tourism in Ireland ("we are OLD"). That they just want to see us and visit. But still. They are coming to Europe and have the health, and energy, and resources to do it. They are not THAT old.

Disparities, while inevitable (I'm an economist, so I can't honestly believe that socialism works even though I do have a soft-spot for the ideals of it) seem criminal. Of course, there are incredible disparities in the US and people suffering and I am not trying to minimize that. It's just that we don't see it so clearly and personally very often.

Marina's husband died a few months ago of lung cancer. Jeanne commented that he had quit smoking for some twenty years at that point but we immediately made the connection that perhaps his lung cancer came from the black mold on the ceiling and walls of their damp and ever-moist house. I have no idea if there is a causal link or not between the mold and the cancer, but I can tell you that I would not be able to spend a night in the damp house without having some kind of an allergic reaction. I have no idea the extent to which the darkness on the ceiling or walls is mold or has spores or what would/could be done in the US about the problem, but I do know that the Greeks, at least most of the Greeks don't have the money to deal with it.

When we were about to leave Marina lamented the fact that she had nothing to give us. Instead she offered to think of us and ask about us to Jeanne. We stopped to take pictures in her gorgeous garden and she gave us all flowers from her little tree. It was all just amazing and I so enjoyed the time spent with her.

Jeanne, Maggie, Marina, Me and Johnny

The kids with their flowers.

A garden across the street.

Marina's patio.

We then headed out to meet Yiorgos, Nick and Paris at a restaurant on an island called "Koronisia." Yiorgos called Jeanne about six times warning her that there were some "little waves" on the road but not to worry.

Here's a Youtube video of what the "road to Kornisia" (Κορωνησία) looks like on a lovely, sunny day.  By the time we got to the road though, it was covered with rocks and the waves crashed over our entire car. I was driving (Jeanne's back) and was fairly terrified. I wish we had taken a video from the front seat, but Maggie got a little snapshot from the backseat. The ominous clanking was just a loose thing on the roof of their car, no worries there!

 We made it safely (surprisingly) and ate another wonderful meal at a little seaside restaurant.

Johnny and I wandered the beach a bit before we headed back. Yiorgos saw how much worse it was on the road for us than it had been for him an hour or so earlier so he called and somehow managed to get the road maintenance crew out before we had to head back over the rocks.