“You seem to know everyone!” my mom keeps saying. Until now, I didn’t realize how many people on Patmos I know. I suppose between four separate trips totaling the equivalent of six months (26 weeks to be specific), I’ve come to know a few people. Certainly my sojourn here during Emily and my trial separation from March through May 2022 added a lot to my social connections because I was here for so long during the off-season. I wasn’t a tourist but a transient resident.
“I was just thinking about you last night! I wondered if you had decided not to come this season,” Manolis the owner of the organic shop said. He had three cases of kombucha sitting around and immediately looked over at them – as if he had bought them anticipating me. I took two cases and told him I’d be around a total of eight weeks this summer.
”I’ll order more for you!”
No one knows you like your dealer….
For the record, there is only one flavor and brand of kombucha available on the island and so far as I’ve seen Manolis is the only one who gets it. It’s a German brand and shelf stable – which is why it can succeed getting to a specialty store on Patmos. The flavor is best described as “fruit”. I can’t describe exactly which fruit – more in the apple to pear range than the Guava Goddess or Coconut, Cherry and Lemongrass blend I love in summer at home. Nonetheless, it hits the spot when chilled properly.
I can’t figure out what I am anymore. Something between a tourist and a local. I own a home, but I’m not a resident. I’m here to enjoy the island, but I’m not a tourist. I think I have entered an in-between space occupied by Patmos’ most ardent foreign worshippers who come here consistently each summer. Some stay at the same place each year. A few have vacation homes like me. They are seasonal occupants. I don’t know how many work online like I do – I suspect it’s a minority. Locals don’t seem to understand why I sit around on my laptop as much as I do – or they do and might just think it’s a bit odd. All the same, the cafes will take my money and let me sit ad infinitum.
Our house is in the very center of Skala, but hidden behind a cafe, pizzeria and a clothing shop. It’s like hiding in plain sight – only a narrow, recessed pathway leads to it. Sometimes it seems to jar people when we pop out of nowhere. I noticed it today when I walked out, right into the middle of Cafe Mostra’s busy sidewalk seating carrying an old microwave to the dumpster. Talk about an in-between moment.
Today being Saturday, we are leaning more toward the tourist side. With no work, we have no schedule and since Dimitris of Grikos hasn’t called about the dryer repair, we just proceeded with our day. After sleeping in until 10, we went to lunch at Ktima Petra – a seaside restaurant that grows its own organic produce and therefore has the most flavorful vegetable dishes and salads. While my mom marveled at the moussaka , I ordered my favorite eggplant rolls, eggplant salad, cheese from their farm and fava bean dip to share among us all. Sennen bravely tried goat – and liked it!
After lunch we adjourned to my favorite beach, Petra where the colors of water are amazing and the setting stunning. Its giant perk and downside is being a pebble beach: perk because you leave clean and sand-free, downside because you need water shoes and for kids there’s no sand play. But for someone who want to swim in perfect, clear water and sit on comfortable lounge chairs all afternoon, it’s the Holy Grail of Greek Beaches.
There, while the kids and my mom were swimming together, I was confronted with my in-between-ness. A Virginian couple roughly my age from the Windstar Cruise anchored off the harbor had found their way to Petra – a very atypical thing for cruise people to do. They sat down at the next set of lounge chairs, so I asked where they’re from – because we don’t hear that many American accents. They told me about their cruise and experiences here and were very interested in our experiences including having a house. It was clear that their short time in Patmos had already enchanted them and they too could imagine owning a piece of Patmos. They peppered me with questions and there I was, lounging on the beach like a tourist telling about my Patmos journey and how I got to owning a house. I was half local, half outsider. Or maybe there should be a name for name for it – Seasonal Resident or Associate Patmian.
One thing I can say for sure – my kids do not act like tourists. They have quickly fallen into their Patmos groove. Sennen has a job, likes beach restaurants best and wants to see if he can join a pick-up soccer game tonight. Ailyn has named half the cats on Patmos, acts like we have lived on our house her entire life ans knows her way around town and is slowly taking her time looking for just the right sun dress. Last night Ailyn began strategizing how she could get everyone she loves to move to Patmos so we could just stay year-round. I explained why that wasn’t realistic while thinking she’s joined the large club of people who have done that mental exercise.
Still, once in awhile they do sound more like naive tourists.
”Daddy, this French lady told us we should go swim. We were sitting on the rocks talking – she said it would be better for us to go swim. She said the rocks were also so dirty. She also told us not to throw rocks in the water. Then she told us a story about how her grandson hurt himself on the rocks here. But it was hard to listen to her because she was half-naked,” Ailyn recounted
Fair enough.
After the beach today, I want to change more lightbulbs around the house and try to install a water filter in the kitchen. The beds are too hard and I need to find a solution so we all get good sleep – probably just replacing the worn out and unattractive beds currently there. This morning I realized we have no spoons while I bought two pans yesterday, the kitchen is still so devoid of tools and food.
Vacation one minute, nesting the next.
I guess that’s the life of a new Associate here in Patmos. Eventually, it will all come together – perhaps in some way I have yet to understand.
