Am I in heaven? No, it is just Greece.

I have felt many times in the last ten months of being abroad that I am experiencing something in my life that I will never again. A once-in-a-lifetime experience if you will. But right now as I enjoy Greek village life with Konstantina and her family, I feel it more than ever. 

Not only am I having new experiences like swimming in warm water for the first time, but I am seeing a side of Greece and life that would be impossible to be a part of as a tourist. Thanks to my impeccable taste in friends, I have the privilege of eating local food, going to local beaches, listening to local folk music, as well as getting first-hand exposure to the classic Greek mothering that I have been hearing and enjoying memes about.

Breakfast time

In the mornings Konstantina and I eat breakfast on the terrace looking out at the cherry tree covered hills, and we stay there, reading and chatting, occasionally running an errand for said Greek mother, until it is time for the mid-day meal. In Greece the main meal of the day is lunch, like dinner is for us in the US. Lily, Konstantina's mom, cooks for everyone and we sit down at the table to eat. Normally it is some kind of roasted vegetables like eggplant and potatoes, occasionally with lamb or beef. Always it is delicious and fresh, served with tomatoes, feta, tzatziki, and a drizzle of their home grown and pressed olive oil.

Lunchtime

After lunch we rest (have a siesta if you will) and then head to the beach. By this time the intense heat of the day has passed and, although it is still very hot, it is not as oppressive as it is earlier in the day. The beaches here are like something out of a movie. The shore is made up of all colors of vibrant rocks, the kind that you see vendors selling to tourists in coastal towns. The water is crystal clear, and with the help of goggles, full of things to look at like little fish and sea anemones. The whole thing is like swimming in an aquarium, the fancy kind you see in a doctors office. As I said before, coming from Oregon, I have only ever swam in water that was as close to freezing as it can be in liquid form, and this water is truly like a bath. If I were better at not drinking the saltwater, I could stay in it all day.

Since we eat our midday meal, it is possible to stay out in the sea until nightfall when a cool breeze from the hills helps sap the heat from the house. Its all very idyllic indeed.

Konstantina's family has been in this area for generations and as such she knows everyone in the region it seems. Agia, the village that her family's house is located is in a valley at the bottom of a hill. Up further on the hill is the village, Metaxochori (silk village) where Konstantina's mother is from and where some of her family still reside. Konstantina and I went up to this village to say hello to her aunt and uncle and along the ten minute journey she said hello to several passerby saying they were her mother's second cousin's teacher's cat's uncle. Or something like that. 

Looking over the valley from Metaxochori

This kind of knowing each other in the community is something that we strive to achieve in an urban context, but that derives from the more rural village community. Its becoming increasingly rare in big cities to find the neighborhood that grants this kind of coziness. Anonymity has become the norm and results in a greater sense of mistrust in the city and a lack of connection to your community. I feel that this is especially prevalent in the Netherlands, where, forming genuine bonds is tricky. It is rare that I see apparent strangers have a real conversation, where here, cafe workers, market vendors, random passerby on the street, interact with one another and share information. 

The other day, Konstantina and I were hanging out on the beach under a makeshift shelter when an older man came and sat down with us. I'll admit that at first I thought it was a bit strange, him just joining us, but he and Konstantina chatted in Greek, and it became apparent that he was on his way for a swim, saw us, and decided to have a conversation. He learned about our studies in the Netherlands and shared some wisdom about traveling and living around the world. It turned out that he was visiting his friend in the area, who Konstantina knows (of course). 

In the Netherlands, it is rare even to exchange a greeting with a stranger, much less sit down for a conversation with two on a whim. Even being a foreigner in both countries, the difference in attitudes is palpable and noticeable on a moment by moment basis. In some ways, the fact that everyone knows each other in this area makes me feel more like a stranger than I am in the Netherlands, but less like I am in a strange land.