Patmos Wakes To Rain

The weather forecast showed only sunny, breezy days as far as the eye could see – highs of 78 and lows of 73. Yet when I rolled over last night, I heard the sound of pouring rain. I didn’t believe it and got up to check the bathroom and kitchen to be sure there was no leak or some other disaster in our house. Everything was fine including three kids who were each dead to the world as they recharged their depleted batteries.

Gingos, and Ketchup were curled up on their respective patio chairs, also sleeping and allowing the storm its due – secure and dry in their reclaimed yard.

All the same, in the dark of the late night and into the early morning Patmos was pounded by uncharacteristic summer rain.

So, I went back to bed and we all slept – the boys arising around 9:00, me at 10:00 and Ailyn only when I literally pulled her out of bed at 11:00. There was no holiday and most shops still opened, but the island was somehow quieter than usual. Athina the yoga teacher texted her group that outdoor yoga was cancelled today. The ground was wet. The sky remained gray. The breeze kept things from feeling steamy and tropical though the air remained comfortably warm.

It was a hazy shade of summer.

None of us factored a change in the weather into our plans for today. Suddenly, spending the day on Petra went from an excellent idea to one of the worst possible as it’s the beach most negatively affected by wind. We decided instead on a Kampos day.

First the morning errands needed to be done. Meat and produce for tonight’s dinner. Pies for lunch on the beach. Money from the ATM. Assorted other ingredients and bathroom spray because – as Ailyn pointed out shortly after waking – we have two 13-year-old boys using our bathroom.

Sennen and Ethan signed up for produce and pies. I took, ATM, butcher and the smaller grocery near our house.

All went well, though lessons were learned. The produce shop at the front of town that we so enjoyed – may have gone out of business. Shockingly, lamb cost more than all the other meats at the butcher shop. Isn’t this Greece?

Still, we got everything needed for Sennen to make lamb kebabs and grilled veggies on our built-in, Greek-style grill in the front yard. Last year we perfected our coal-heating technique – making us ready for tonight.

Kampos was indeed less windy than other beaches – though it wasn’t very crowded. We had our choice of beach chairs. The kids complained about the water being too cold at first, then managed to get in and enjoy. Ethan discovered the joys of Greek chicken pie – another step in his slow adoption of Greek food, building on last night’s embrace of chicken souvlaki at Ktima Petra. Much to Sennen’s delight, Ethan seems open to trying gyros – which we may attempt tomorrow night.

Ailyn picked up a new volleyball at the bookstore, of all places – and that made the beach more fun on a cold day. Then there was the 13-year-old innovation of throwing pebbles at the volleyball as someone held it – often Ailyn who didn’t seem to mind.

Despite the fun, with few people and a gray day, the beach just didn’t have its usual allure and the kids wanted to wrap-up early. We came back to town; signed them up for gym memberships; got everyone new, better fitting beach sandals; did laundry; they watched soccer while I worked; Ethan ate soba while watching soccer while I worked; and then I got them out and about around town to shop, walk, reconnect with friends. Now they’re riding bikes. It has been a haphazard, slow-start, confused and relaxed afternoon.

“See how pretty, Patmos is?” Sennen asked Ethan. “I think it’s the most special place – it’s different even than anywhere else in Greece. It’s a very special place.”

That statement is half the reason he brought Ethan to the other side of the world. Sennen really wanted to share the Patmos experience with a good friend.

For his part, Ethan is processing a lot. Last night Ethan said the whole experience still feels unreal – like a dream. He tried gelato for the first time – and that seemed one of the better parts of the dream. This morning as we walked to the car Ethan said, “This is really different from home. Things here are just different….”

Which is interesting for a boy born in Japan.

I surmise Patmos may – for some – have something similar to what I think of as The Singapore Effect. The confusion or awe comes from it being neither too similar nor too different from home. A place like Japan or even Thailand really has no similarity to home. Its differentness is a defining characteristic – it’s what you go to see and because differentness is the attraction, you have the mental space for it.

However, when things are as Thais often say, “Same, same, but not same” – people’s brains sometimes go a little haywire. It’s similar enough that we want to apply our templates of life as we know it at home, but they don’t work so cleanly. That can be confusing and even frustrating. When service at a European restaurant isn’t like service at an American one – despite them appearing comparable – Americans sometimes become annoyed and judgy. American servers are expected to me friendly, speedy and attentive. French servers – or Greek ones for that matter – are not. Flagging down a Greek server to get the check could easily be an Olympic sport.

Ethan doesn’t seem to have particular expectations. He’s observant and curious – and more than anything, learning the ropes from kids who seem completely comfortable in an environment that is “same, same, but different.”

“It’s so weird we’ve only been here two days,” Sennen said, “It feels so much longer. It feels like the time is slipping away. I expected to show Ethan around and teach him everything for a long time. But he’s already learned almost everything.”

From Sennen’s perspective, Ethan is doing swimmingly.

After dinner tonight, the boys plan to go to the Cafe Mostra in front of our house and watch a World Cup game with the locals who gather there. Yiannis, the owner is a big soccer fan and local coach.

Today lacked a certain momentum or panache. It was a slow, disjointed, lazy day – perhaps because of the weather or just emblematic of it. It was also an easy transition for Ethan and perhaps all of us to not hit the ground running, but to do as one does on any rainy day – step back and enjoy the moments when things unexpectedly slow down. Our lives have been anything but slow-paced and easy over the past several months. Perhaps a rainy summer morning and a hazy, breezy summer afternoon are just what we needed.