Finding My Place

I didn't need to see the giant cruise ship anchored off-shore to confirm its presence. Walking out my gate Cafe Mostra will packed with 65+ year-olds in tourist garb and drinking beers at 11 am. Because of its more interior location, Mostra is rarely the busiest cafe in Skala and generally more popular with locals than foreigners. So when Mostra has Germans and Australians enjoying a late-morning beer, you know there's either one very large or several smaller cruise ships at anchor.

And awesome for Christos whose family owns the cafe!

This of course meant my inexplicable instinct to spend Saturday at Agriolivadi was spot-on. Cruise people don't typically go to beaches beyond Skala and I felt like enjoying some breeze and swimming today. Agrio, as its called among locals, is an organized beach (meaning it's line with lounge chairs and umbrellas) with a great taverna and cafe  - both owned by the same family who owns most of the land around the beach. The 40-something year-old brother runs the taverna and his sister typically runs the cafe – which are immediately next to one another. The cafe makes a great place to write, the lounge chairs are some of the most comfortable on the island, the water some of the most turquoise and the taverna first-rate. Agrio is never a bad decision. With a gentle breeze keeping the island cool, Agrio is a great decision.

As I rode out of town, I was shocked to find the small beach in front of town typically used by locals as an easy-access swimming pool was uncharacteristically filled with tourists. It looked like one of those canned scenes from the Love Boat when the Pacific Princess is docked in Mazatlan or Acapulco and all the 1970's and 1980's people are playing on the beach. I thought how sad those people's beach experience on Patmos will be that fairly unremarkable beach, how awesome for the three beachside cafes that are benefitting from their patronage, and how awesome for me that this beach is working as a successful decoy.

Agrio is also a place to find friends. Stefanos who runs the taverna speaks excellent English. His mom is Australian-Patmian – having grown up in Australia and then moved to Patmos where her family originated and where Stefanos and his sister were born. To some degree, anyone who comes to Patmos regularly – which is a lot of people since Patmos more than most islands has dedicated regulars – is friends with Stefanos. His avuncular personality helps draw people into the taverna and keeps them returning. He's constantly greeting "old friends" and making sure different tables are treated like VIP's.

I got to know Stefanos in a different way. In Spring 2022 when I was here for ten weeks on a trial-separation, hoping some space and time would allow Emily and I to reboot – and also contemplating what to do if we did in fact divorce – I spent a lot of time at the taverna writing. Naturally, I stood out because when the taverna opened in late April, there weren't many customers yet. More significantly, no one else came with a laptop and wrote for hours.  Stefanos became curious and we began chatting more often. He kindly made sure I got extra bread when needed to get through my spicy feta dip (best on the island) and hoped whatever I was writing would be a success.

As a result – and this happens to me at several places – I'm not the guest to which Stefanos gives the big welcome. I'm treated more like a close friend or family – who should understand when it's "showtime" around the taverna. Even when I'm with the kids, I come in, sit down quietly and when Stefanos has a minute, he comes by and talks to me in a familiar, "you get it" kind of way. If he's less busy, he chats more. I actually take it as a compliment. We understand one another's business and oddly, it makes me feel like I'm in the inner-circle. 

However, the best is Andreas who runs the lounge-chair concession. Andreas works with his dad – and by that I mean Andreas runs around, seats every guest, chats with everyone, takes payments and adjust umbrellas all day long so people get maximum shade. Sometimes he comes around with a hand-broom to clean sand off chairs and if you can't find one of the cafe servers who roam the beach, he flags them down. His dad sits at the tented table in the rear of the beach and smokes – occasionally helping an arriving customer if Andreas is too busy.

Andreas – who I estimate to be plus or minus 40 – has a British mom and has a very genteel accent in English. He's one of a family large club of Patmians of dual heritage whose time in the UK makes him more relatable than a Greek who speaks English. Andreas and I have chatted for years, I've seen his daughter in diapers and then toddling and then running around when her mom brings her to the beach at the end of the day and Andreas drops whatever he's doing and melts for her. Similarly, Andreas knows my kids and mom and was genuinely sad today when I told him the kids won't be here until mid-July. This past December, I texted Andreas to see if he was around and wanted to grab coffee and catch-up. We're always pressed for time on conversations in the summer. It turned out he was in the UK for Christmas, but it sort of solidified our connection.

It is quite possible Andreas gets the most exercise of anyone on the island – working from 10 am to sunset each day and being in constant motion. I asked him last year how he's doing with the work since it seems like his dad is essentially passing along the business. Andreas said he's exhausted at the end of every day and bounces up early to spend time with his daughter before leaving. But, he works for five months a year and gets the rest off – and that's a blessing. He said the family time together in the winter can't be replaced and he's grateful he gets so much time to just enjoy his family and community. He may be the only Patmian I've heard who expressed the sentiment to that degree.

Today Andreas told me things are good – and he's grateful for his family's health and that they have each other. I told him that last night when I was picking up dinner at Alas Grill – owned by a couple with kids exactly the same age as mine – I learned the wife's father had passed away unexpectedly a few months ago. Moreover, her British mom, Teresa has been battling cancer for more than a year.

While waiting for my order, I sat and chatted with Teresa who was hanging out at an outdoor table. I told her I was so sorry to hear about her husband who apparently died within three months of his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. While Ioanna, the daughter, was visibly grief stricken – Teresa in her Southern British accent said chipperly, "Oh, it's alright, thank you. It was a blessing really – it was just three months." Probably not how I would framed it, but no criticism – everyone deals with loss in their way.

Later in the conversation I told Teresa – who is departing Tuesday for the UK to see her doctors and possibly get some new kind of radiation-based treatment – how sorry I am that she's going through her battle with cancer. She said in an upbeat tone resembling Mrs Doubtfire, "Oh, it's fine…. I have been doing it for more than a year and I'll be back the following week." 

Again, we all cope how we cope.

I mentioned it to Andreas in his discussion of health. He said, "Look, I have known Teresa well for a very long time, that's an act. She breaks down sometimes. She puts up a good front, but she's scared." We both agreed it's also very British to put on a good face on.

Whatever Teresa's feelings might have been, they didn't stop her from doing what she does best – exchanging information. From her I learned that the new shop with arcade games for children is very "un-Patmian" and doesn't belong, that I got a great deal on my house and made a wise choice, that her grandchildren love speaking English and should hang out with my kids when they come, that the old lead pipes in a lot of Patmos were a contributor to the cancers many Patmians have experienced – AND she suspects that the municipality burns trash which releases plastics and chemicals into the air which may also adversely affect people's health. 

People like Andreas and Teresa are my bridge people – the closer linguistic and cultural connection helps me learn. Teresa told me what second-story air rights go for in Patmos (I didn't even know you could sell air rights!) and last year Andreas explained the controversy that resulted in the loss of the garbage and recycling bins in the front of town.

If you want to know where something is, almost any English-speaking local is happy to help. If you want to know how something works or the reasons behind a decision, the average Patmian is likely to give a brief answer with a shrug. A bridge person has an explanation (and often an opinion). 

On the way out of town I noticed the Alpha Beta supermarket has changed hands since January. It has a new name and logo with which I'm unfamiliar. I'll be tapping Andreas for that story later….

If the house itself has been one major project here on Patmos, finding my way into the social ecosystem has been the other. Particularly with my Spring and Winter visits, I've established some street cred. I'm not just a summer person and I'm not just passing through. People are making room for me. What this is doesn't yet seem defined. But I have received a lot of "Welcome!" greetings the past two days. People know who I am, even with hat and glasses on. And it seems an increasing number of them know exactly where I live.

Surprisingly, that doesn't always help things. My Amazon Germany order was sent in two packages with two separate carriers – DHL and UPS. Both subcontract to local delivery services that reach the Greek islands. Neither subcontractor successfully delivered the packages and I received emails saying delivery wasn't possible. Long story short, one delivery service called Immanoula, my cleaning lady/caretaker and left the packages with her – which she was kind enough to accept – and the other held the packages at its Patmos office. When I went to the office to retrieve the package, I asked why they weren't able to deliver – was the address confusing? 

"No, we know where you live, we just don't deliver there and can't call you." Numerous questions began flooding my mind, but I went for what I consider to be the best answer for a foreigner succeeding at finding his place in the Patmos community, "Ok, well thank you so much for holding the package for me. Have a nice day."