"You see, maybe we have a fight. I get angry at you. I think you're not such a nice guy. Maybe I see you walking and I don't talk to you. Maybe I look the other way, pretend I don't see you. But when something bad happens, something important, we forget about it. We all show up," Michaelis explained about being Patmian.
"We are like a family here. I know who is good and who is bad. Everyone is good, really. But I know who is also bad. Maybe some people like each other more. Maybe we get angry sometimes – it happens. It always happens. It is all much better than Athens. This is why I came back here after school in Athens. Athens is a horrible place. I never want to go again. I took my mom for treatment (chemotherapy). We come out and on the train, someone takes her wallet. Athens is a horrible place."
Michaelis – who I fondly think of as "The God of Laundry" because his family owns the only full-service laundry on the island and who rides his scooter around loaded with laundry and a smile, helping people – is one of my favorite people on Patmos. He is a young man who fully embraces the traditions and values of his island. He and his new wife Theologia are a young couple who can often be seen dining late at a variety of eateries around town, shaking off a long day of running a hard business enjoying each other and/or friends and family who sit with them. They greet passerby and coo at babies. From what I can tell, Michaelis is beloved by all. Some people are just easy to like.
"On Patmos, you have to be careful about what you say – how you treat people," Michaelis went on. "It's not like in a city where you don't have to see someone, they don't have to see you. Here, even if you don't like someone, it's best to like them."
Michaelis said the thing he misses most about Athens is movie theaters. Patmos has none. So he built himself a home movie theater in the new house he and Theologia built following their wedding last year. Michaelis says he spent most of the winter – in which the island had unusual amounts of rain and even some hail – in that theater.
Because of the feeling I get here on Patmos, I have wondered whether it's the island that made the people what they are, or the people who make the island what it is? Perhaps it's both. The environment and the culture are spectacular. In fact, as Michelle and I discuss a possible quick side trip to Turkey – something new for her – I find myself feeling ambivalent about leaving, even for a few days. There's nothing new about this. Last summer I meant to go to Crete to visit the leaders of Etz Hayyim Synagogue there with whom we at Temple Etz Chaim in Thousand Oaks were working with as sister synagogues. Only every time I walked by the travel agency that does the ferry ticketing and I looked across the street at the water and back at the town square, I just kept walking. Why would I want to give up my precious time here, even when there was ten weeks of it?
One of the many cool things about having been here for ten weeks in a row for the past three years is how many people I realize I know. Andreas who runs the beach chair concession at Agriolivadi beach welcomed me warmly in his British accent (his mom is British). We chatted about his 14 month-0ld who isn't letting him sleep. "It's a hard job. A very hard job."
Two rows of lounge chairs behind us was my friend George a former banker and economist who now runs a vacation rental agency and his new girlfriend. I shouldn't have been surprised to see him – George always takes 3 to 6 pm off to paddle board at Agriolivadi, though today he seemed more into cuddling.
Two days ago at the Agriolivadi Taverna, Stefanos the owner came over and gave me a hug. I was caught off guard because he doesn't seem like the huggy type. But Stefanos and I bonded while I was here during my trial separation in 2022 and I came to his taverna to eat and write before the prime season, when it was often overcast and there were few customers. We got to know each other in a way that never would have been possible had I only been around in summer.
Two nights ago, I got caught up with the entire staff of Alas Grill. Yesterday it was Tassos the butcher, his assistant and the lady at the produce shop. Although they didn't seem happy to see me in any way (nothing personal, they just don't seem to particularly enjoy most humans), the guys working at the plumbing, tile and fixtures shop still and I certainly were familiar with each other. The head waiter at Petrino – the main cafe in the town square – and I were happy to see one another.
I find myself sometimes surprised at all the people I know – often supporting characters in the story of my Patmos life. Yet, going with Michaelis' perceptions, they are all important. I need to get along with them all – because it is a small ecosystem. And whether or not I enjoy them all equally, the important part is that if we make room for one another and maintain the tolerance or better yet, respect that Michaelis advocates – we can enjoy more and maybe even be there for one another when it counts.
It also goes back to what Michelle said when we first arrived late at night almost a week ago – that she could immediately feel the sense of intimacy present on Patmos. Again, it's hard to know how much of that is the island and how much the people. Perhaps it doesn't matter. The fact that there's a place for everyone is magic unto itself. But there's no doubt that community is one of Patmos' great gifts.
In America, I know so many people who move in hopes of finding community. People who adopt certain lines of thought or ideology, affiliate with various groups, try on different personas or identities all to try to find a place of connection, belonging and acceptance. I'm one of them – my role in my synagogue has been all about being part of a community. On Patmos, the only requirements seem to be showing up and not being an asshole. Given time and respect, the community makes a place for you and if you show kindness and make an effort, there can be more – maybe a lot more. And that is what makes Patmos truly special – the real gift of the island.
