Finding The Energy

The European Union's periphery is both figurative and literal. If you think of the Iberian Peninsula hanging off the far west and Greece hanging off the Southeast, these areas have significant cultural and social distinction from much or Western and Central Europe. Interestingly, both the Iberian Peninsula and the Greek Archepelago were once centers of great power and wealth that over time seem to have become complacent and decided to take it easy in the bounty of their warm, sunny environments. It's hard to imagine Spain, Portugal or Greece leading the world at this point. In fact, all three have nearly taken down the Euro-zone due to their weak economies and loose fiscal policies.

To me, Greece hangs onto being European by a thread. It has politically cast its lot with Europe, but the culture is something distinctly different that the train-loving, fine dining, fine art museum going, former empire-building states of Europe. Greece is just as it locations implies, something between Europe, Turkey and the Middle East. Warm, hospitable, slow paced, casual and sometimes raucous, tahini-eating – Greeks have elements of the Middle East. Prayerful, Christian with churches, icons and priests in black robes everywhere, Greeks have a European-feeling religious life. Gelato, pasta, alcohol drinking, cigarette smoking, casual dating friendly – Greeks have plenty in common with their Italian neighbors and even the French. Like Israel, Egypt and Turkey – Greece's historical center of gravity isn't the Middle Ages, Renaissance or the Enlightenment, but ancient. Greeks don't seem to need to edify their historical wealth – they clearly feel that history is their birthright and that their civilization needs no introduction, explanation or apologies.

Greece spent roughly years under Ottoman rule and gained its independence in the early 19th Century largely due to the help of a coalition of European powers, helmed by England. After having won their independence from the Ottoman Turks, Greece found itself in the hands of its European "friends" who couldn't imagine a modern country without a monarch. So, after much 19th Century-style diplomatic congresses and negotiations, the European powers required Greece to take a Bavarian Prince as its monarch. Needless to say, this did not go well and he was eventually deposed at which point the European powers decided a Danish prince would do better and began another dynastic line for the Greek people. This was Europe's way to bring "backward" Greece into the European fold. Greece's price of independence was to undergo roughly 100 years of putting up with being a European vassal state for about 120 years.

Emily and I first came to Greece by boat from Turkey – crossing from Marmaris to Rhodes. It was clearly stepping out of Turkey into something far more European and first-world. But when you think of Athens vs Paris or Crete vs Salzburg, the puzzle pieces don't fit cleanly.

Sometimes when I'm sitting in town or at the beach in Patmos, I wonder what Patmos must have felt like 100 years ago – no electricity or phones yet. Did people here care about – or even know about the First World War? Did the cares of the outside world make sense – or were they completely unrelatable and absurd. Any sane person would have a hard time understanding why World War II happened and why people who cause so much devastation. To people living on a small, remote Greek island, fishing for octopus and raising goats in peace – did they know? If they did it all makes sense in the context of the times? Or was the world a crazy place they didn't need to keep tabs on or go visit? I can only imagine how many people would have rather been on Patmos in 1942. Even as the post-war economy boomed in America and Europe recovered, Patmos had a restaurant, a cafe and a couple of bakeries. People continued to worship and live in peace with their families in a way that probably wasn't terribly different than 100, 200 or 500 years prior. What must that have been like?

Even today, while Patmos certainly is part of our global world order, people live in much simpler, more traditional houses. The one we live in is still based on the original stone structure which makes up the base of the downstairs unit – and the upper duplex unit we live in was added on more recently – but of course made to look and feel like the original. When I walk around the neighborhood near the playground that extends back toward Chocalaka Beach, I see locals living in small, simple houses with kitchens that in America wouldn't be acceptable in the average studio apartment. And yet, people here make great use of their kitchens. These aren't poor people, they have a different sensibility.

Sometimes when I look down at the narrow pedestrian-only streets and walkways, I'm a little amazed to see the metal covers the electric and phone companies have there. It's hard to imagine how they did it or what Patmosians did while their island was being wired up.

Two of the stranger  - and certainly not typically European – aspects of development on Patmos are water and electricity. The Patmosian water system relies on a water ship pulling up daily and releasing clean, treated water to its underground reservoirs. Likewise, if you pay attention, you can see sewage trucks darting around the island, connection hoses into this manhole and that, sucking up that part of the island's waste and carting it off to a waiting ship each night – which I assume takes it for treatment elsewhere. God help the crew of that ship!

Patmos' electricity is largely generated by a small, petroleum powered plant located conveniently next to the main cemetery in Skala and across from the marina. Some people have solar panels – but for such a sunny, dry place there's a surprising dearth of solar. 

As a result of this unique setup Patmosian utilities are costly (which is why the Greek government has a project underway to connect the islands to the mainland power grid). This is why our Airbnb host/landlord, Victor was obsessing about our use of utilities the first several days and was making every effort to show which times of day to keep the curtains drawn, when to open them, how to create a cross-breeze in the apartment and reminded us daily to turn off anything and everything.

His obsessive and slightly intrusive nature was annoying – but as Californians, the idea of water conservation and high water and power bills was not foreign to us. It's just that he didn't seem to take our word for it.

So our biggest drama of the past two days took place when Victor asked us to come look at his prior utility bills and presented us with how our electric meter read a week after our arrival. He was, in a very strange and inefficient way, trying to ask us to pay the utilities. It became an awkward conversation where we discussed how Airbnb works – and why unless something is listed as an additional charge, the final price is final. Victor explained how this is his first summer using Airbnb and he hadn't really thought through how much utilities for five guests would cost for a long-term stay. We felt he was being a little tricky, but given he lives downstairs and is our landlord – that good will needed to be considered. So, we decided to give him some extra money for utilities, send and recorded through Airbnb for documentation. It did make sense that a man who manages to spend 7 Euros a month on electricity for himself – despite the prices here – would be a little shocked by an American family of five suddenly impacting his bill. The good news is he was grateful and the issue seems resolved.

And maybe one day, the sewage sucking trucks and boats will be too….