Being a tourist means to a large degree getting what you want. Popular tourist destinations learn what their visitors want and usually figure out a way to supply it to the greatest extent possible (or at least, convenient). Decades ago, Thai beach bungalows began installing electric instant hot water heaters in showers even though the tap water itself would be warm enough for the average Thai. I've seen things like spaghetti, burgers and pizza on hotel buffets or local menus worldwide. Restaurants in Taiwan often have a few forks on hand for Western travelers. And car rental establishments throughout Europe usually have an automatic transmission or two on hand for Americans willing to pay the premium to have what they're comfortable driving.
These are the norms, especially in economies with strong tourism sectors.
Being a temporary resident means adapting to much greater degree. In general, we prefer to be temporary residents of anywhere we go – even if for just a few weeks. But with two months in front of us, we are definitely temporary inhabitants of Patmos. And because we're working too, we have routines and systems to establish to make the whole thing work.
The year Emily and I traveled after getting married, figuring out how to work in different places was a critical part of the experience – and in some places (most notably Nepal), became painfully consuming. Greece is a much easier place to work – good Internet speeds, WiFi in every cafe and restaurant in addition to our house. ubiquitous cell phone service, clear international phone lines. But whenever you change environments, little things present themselves. Today, our mission to spend beach time with the kids, and then work at the adjacent restaurant was a huge success. We had a great time bobbing in the Aegean after which they played happily with Matheus while we worked. It couldn't have been a nicer day. Of course, the fact that we know Patmos, which beach to choose for our purpose and the system for paying for chaise lounges gave us a great advantage.
Despite that, I couldn't connect to the router at the beach restaurant we preferred. Some kind of a glitch. So, I used the WiFi hotspot on my phone – problem solved. The reverse happened when we switched later to the other restaurant – more of a cafe where we were closer to the kids. I connected, but the speed was terrible. Emily couldn't connect. So, we both used our hotspots since the cellular service was great. But there were the "I'm not connecting. What do you think I should do?" moments that we are familiar with from 2010-2011.
But adapting to Patmos life goes beyond the where and how to connect and call. Because this is our first time renting a house rather than a proper studio-hotel, we have no daily cleaning service. In the aftermath of the downhill exploding watermelon incident of yesterday came the pressing question of where does the garbage go? Clearly nowhere in the courtyard and there is no behind the house – or dumpster on our street. Who knows if Patmos even has a garbage truck – it might still be carried away by donkey… Viktor said to take it to some garbage cans located up and across a hill – about a five minute walk away. It was unclear if those garbage cans are intended for this property, but I felt that plausible deniability was a good policy and asked no questions.
Today, the Viktor's cleaning lady came up to talk to us about any housekeeping services we might like. Viktor said he would send her and we could work it out with her directly. Only she could neither speak nor understand a word of English. So, Emily got Viktor on the phone who translated. There was a lot of loud talking that to an American might be considered yelling. When it was all through, it turned out her hourly was very cheap and we have her coming twice a week to do basic cleaning. It was strongly suggested we hire her to also cook for us as she makes "Greek treats". But we'll probably skip that part.
Yesterday's grocery shopping seemed fairly straightforward out of the gate. We have been to the Alpha Beta before (no need to "tell a friend" on this one) – and it is the most complete and American-equivalent one on the island. In fact, it's really the only one that would meet our definition of a supermarket. Mostly. We had learned from Viktor that because Patmos is hilly and so many of the homes are on streets inaccessible to cars, the two largest grocery stores deliver for free if you spend more than 50 Euros. That sounded fantastic – so we asked the checker about it and she told us that indeed they would deliver for free. Only they didn't know where the delivery guy was. Because the delivery guy didn't answer his phone, they couldn't say when they could deliver – maybe in a couple of hours. So, perhaps we should take the perishables ourselves and they could deliver the rest. Where did we live? Since there are no addresses in Patmos, you simply have to describe or best yet, tell them the name or owner of the house. We mentioned we live at Viktor's house up on the hill in Skala. Neither the checker or the manager knew where that was. They asked another employee.
"Oh, Viktor, the Russian guy? With the big gate at his house? Up on the hill in Skala?"
Viktor is Polish, by the way and has lived here 30 years – but this was no time to quibble over details.
"Exactly! Can you deliver?"
"Sure!" and then he trailed into Greek conversation with his coworkers.
Unfortunately, this conversation didn't help when the delivery guy showed up 10 minutes later and had no idea where the house was – and the guy who did know was nowhere to be found. So, we worked it out that the delivery guy would follow us home – that way he would know for the future – and we would get some help. When he did arrive – and before the watermelon escaped downhill – he told us we're in the Castelli neighborhood and had he known, he would have used his motorbike for delivery instead of the truck that couldn't make it to our house.
Nonetheless, Emily got his name, number, card and tipped him generously so that all future deliveries will go better.
Tonight I got a text from the man who owns the car rental agency telling me I was parked in a bad place and should move the car before the police ticket it. Besides the fact that I have no idea what made that an illegal parking space and 10 other people seemed to park in that same area, what is so Patmos is that everyone in Patmos knows everything about everyone. I moved the car to a lot I was told is fine.
Last night on our way out to dinner, Viktor told us which is his favorite restaurant and how they have the best fish and seafood.
"There is a nice boy there, he has four fingers. I helped his mother who was paralyzed to walk again when I treated her with acupuncture. Her boy lost a finger when he was young because he held a bomb (firecracker) and it went BOOM. I told him once when he was feeling bad about having no finger that it wasn't so important and now he really loves me. Anyway, his father catches and cooks the fish and will cook for you the best fish you ever had. AND, when you ask for the fish, you do not just sit there and take the fish they bring you. You ask to look the fish in the eyes to know they are the freshest fish – and pick your fish – and then they will respect you like a local."
So the difference between a tourist and a local is whether or not you look a dead fish dead in the eye before you eat him.
Game on.
