In 2010 and 2014 we never cooked a meal here on Patmos. Nicholas put a hot plate in our little studios so Emily could make coffee in the morning – a necessity since the cheapest coffee at a cafe was two euros and she drank about four a morning. Beyond coffee and a few snacks, we did no food preparation. In 2019 with five of us here for nine weeks, it became impractical to eat out every meal so we always had breakfast in our three-bedroom apartment – which usually consisted of simple things like Greek yogurt with honey (which is better here) and fruit. It also didn't make sense to spend on lunch out for the kids everyday when they were happy playing at the beach – so most days we bought fresh bread from the bakery and Matheus made sandwiches for he and the kids – usually with deli meats and cheeses from the grocery and fresh summer fruits. Emily and I usually ate at a taverna or cafe so we could work before joining the kids and Matheus later in the afternoon.
While most dinners were out – sometimes on the cheap just getting gyros and salad – at least twice a week, I made dinner. I always find grocery stores in other countries fascinating - they tell you so much about a culture. Moreover, there are always interesting things to try – ideas and flavors you wouldn't have imagined from things like spicy shrimp or pork floss potato chips in Thailand to Nutella filled cereal in Greece. Since all food is imported into Singapore, their supermarkets provide origin selections. Do you want onions from Malaysia, Australia or China? Chicken from Brazil or Malaysia? Apples from the USA or New Zealand? Cheese from France or Australia?
Between the AlphaBeta supermarket, Tassos the Butcher and the local produce market, there seemed no shortage of interesting things to try. Tassos prepares a lot of his meat with the appropriate cuts, seasonings, stuffings for easy-cooking. Naturally, these were my first targets – there was so much to try and learn about. Besides, I felt sure I couldn't season anything better than Tassos who knew exactly how all the Greek spices and herbs work.
Cooking dinner twice a week or so meant never making my way through all the great new options.
This trip I have a homemade dinner five times a week – often making enough for two nights at a time, so typically cooking three nights. Part of it could be the season, but I've come to realize the Greek stable of vegetables and produce is very good and fresh – but somewhat limited. As far as vegetables go, produce markets and trucks offer zucchini, eggplant, onions, tomatoes, a variety of peppers, spinach, lettuces, cucumbers – and sometimes carrots, fresh broad beans and leeks. AlphaBeta and sometimes the produce market will sometimes bring in a few more "exotic" options like broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower and green beans. Fruit-wise, it's been bananas, apples, pears and oranges for months. As we edge toward summer, grapes, peaches and strawberries have begun to show themselves. In the peak of summer, there will be plums, apricots and lots of melon – Greeks enjoy a lot of watermelon. I've seen three pineapples and a handful of other imported specialty items at AlphaBeta like the odd mango, a pack of blueberries and a coconut.
When living in Asia – particularly Bali – I spent tons of time learning about the myriad and perennial varieties of produce. I had never encountered mangosteens, prickly pears and the 20 varieties of mangoes Bali has – each with a different texture and taste. Water spinach, morning glory, Thai eggplant and long beans were just a few of my new vegetables. Here in Greece, everything is familiar – it's just fresher than I'm used to and the Greek variety of zucchini is tastier. As the weeks have passed, I've exhausted all the options Tassos has for me – and just about every vegetable available on this island. My dinners – while still tasty – have taken a very familiar turn.
It's a good reminder of what an amazing variety and choice we have in America. While agricultural standards in the EU are stricter than in the US – making it so an American consumer who doesn't want to intake large amounts of toxic chemicals has to be mindful about quality, freshness and sourcing – we nonetheless have access to a huge variety of produce – and just about everything else too. In 1975, the average American supermarket carried roughly 8,000 SKU's – today it averages at 45,000 and can range up to 60,000. Even at stores like Trader Joe's and Whole Foods that typically have fewer SKU's – I can still choose if I want conventional or organic green beans, conventional or organic milk across a variety of fat percentages, and a wide scope of both conventional and organic milk substitutes including almond, rice, oat and soy. If I'm concerned about my soy intake, I can even find pumfu – tofu made from pumpkin seeds. We're so used to it, but we live in a time and place with more variety and selection of food than ever before throughout history.
While travel usually makes me appreciate all the wonderful aspects of our broad diverse world – it sometimes inspires moments of gratitude and appreciate for home. Those are important too. As much as I'll miss Tassos' amazingly prepared and season chicken souvlaki, I'll also be happy for some bok choi, green beans, pineapple and tofu.
Obviously, our personal favorites changes throughout our lives and we certainly differ from each other. I never understand how I'm the only one scanning the streets of Thailand for packets of coconut sticky rice with coconut custard – or maybe I'm just the best or most obvious at it. What's clear is that people define their needs and requirements for happiness in a multitude of ways.
Humans are both blessed and cursed with the freedom and need to define ourselves and our lives. For many people the definition of fulfillment or a life well-lived is the example they see from their families and community or origin. In a society like India where the caste system is so ingrained in the culture, people are often left without imagining any other fate than that which their station dictates. Their life is fairly well known to them from the beginning.
In most Western countries – we have an incredible freedom of choice, should we decide to engage it. We can question what we're taught, ask ourselves what we want out of life, follow traditions and expectations, or blow with the wind and see where life takes us. Defining one's-self and succeeding is not easy work, but it is available and one of our most precious freedoms.
In my family – as in so many American middle-class families or better – each generation since the Second World War has become increasingly freer and more empowered. In our case, my great grandparents were immigrants and their choices were fewer. They worked hard to succeed, or just get by – with the goal of giving their children better lives. Those children's mission was quite clear to them: to become fully assimilated and climb the American economic ladder – which my family did. While that generation of my family typically chose one (in one case, two) children in the family to send to college, with the rest of the family working to support their educations – the next generation could all get a higher education if they wanted. Although there were certainly parental expectations and pressures, the kids had choices. My parents' generation is filled with highly educated people – many professionals – who continued to be middle class or better. Many are well-traveled and have lived interesting lives. The chain continued to my generation which perhaps had fewer parental expectations and more freedom of choice and personal identity.
Such a gift is priceless and almost unprecedented throughout human history. How many people of the past – even in the wealthiest of countries – were ever told they could be whatever they wanted to be? Even the wealthiest and most powerful typically had expectations and stations in life. To be told life is your oyster and truly have the opportunity to cash in on it, well, that's rare.
As anyone who's ever watched the Toby McGuire Spiderman knows, with great power comes great responsibility. Choosing what to do with such freedom can be scary in the same way a blank canvas can be daunting. How does one define a life? And even harder, how does one make it a good life?
This used to haunt me in my early 20's. As I reached the end of college – particularly as my time as Editor-in-Chief of The Daily of the University of Washington came to a close, I was falling into a depression. It may have been hard for people around me to see the full extent of it because I was clever in what I shared, but also because my yet undiagnosed mood disorder was a mixed state – meaning I could manifest energy even when severely depressed. I don't think the people in my life knew how much time I spent alone or sleeping – nor did they know how absolutely hopeless I felt.
The Daily had become my life for the prior two years – especially the last seven months when I lived and breathed it full-time. It gave me purpose, meaning and a daily (no pun intended) sense of accomplishment. It came with a social world too – I was immersed in a community with good friends, intrigue, politics, passion and debauchery. I had my time of being the father of a family of roughly 60 who could at one minute come together to cover a late-breaking story with care and accuracy, the next minute threaten to kill one another with exacto knives over a disputed punctuation mark and then proceed to find two people having sex on the publisher's desk as a symbol of rebellion and victory. I was known to every administrator, managed a $1.2 million budget, held public officials accountable, met millionaires and politicians and decided what the most important story of the day was. I had power within a limited scope, improved the paper and sincerely enjoyed my work and days. On my last day, our publisher saluted me on the way out the door because I had brought the paper back to a certain standard that the prior editor had let lapse and left the next editor a staff that was tight knit and highly functional. It was fantastic.
Then one March 18th, it all ended. My two terms expired and there was no more. Not only did I need to figure out my next steps in life, I also had unresolved conflict with my parents I had sort of mentally put on a shelf for awhile and credit card debt looming – which by today's standards was so small (about $1900), but I was so skewed and ashamed that it just felt overwhelming. The depression I fell into for the next three months wasn't the first I had – that came two years earlier during my sophomore year which I also tried to hide – and it wasn't the last. I cycled through depressive periods for six more years – but more so when I either faced a moment of choice, was alone or both.
During these times, I slept too much, made bad choices, used a variety of tactics including avoidance to keep people at bay. Not knowing what my life should look like, what I wanted or how to get there just felt overwhelming and made me want to lay down and give up. I lost track of the gift, the empowerment, all the opportunity as darkness pulled at me.
The memory of those times – and those feelings – is the shadow I fear still today. I look for it over my shoulder and am afraid it will sneak up on me. Sure, I can recognize the many differences between then and now. I have a diagnosis, awareness and medication. I do yoga. I have kids – and a house, job, and for now a wife. I'm in a totally different stage of life. I have friends – who I'm a lot more open with in certain ways than I was back then. I don't feel as lost and vulnerable. I'm older and I have more experience and ability.
Nonetheless, it's hard to shake the memories and gnawing fear of the darkness. Especially because again, I'm at a moment of decision – a time to once again ask myself what I want for the next chapter of my life. What is a good life? What is a good life to me? How do I live it?
I think I've already mostly answered these questions this sojourn. I know that I want a life of connectedness with people I value and love. I also know I want to do meaningful work that helps others and engages my creativity. I want deep conversations and to really know people. I want to be the kind of friend people want and value. I want to show up for people. I want to be better about sharing myself. I want to write and create – maybe to edit. I want my children to know a fulfilled father. I want to be a good father and always do right by my children. If I'm in a relationship, I want the love I give to come back around. I want to believe I'm worth that. I want to be a good partner or spouse. I want to cherry pick the good parts of life to focus my attention on and to spend my time in the best places and having the best life experiences. I don't want to wait until I retire to enjoy the world – I want to be productive and enjoy the best of what the world has to offer, like being in Patmos right now.
I think working toward these things will give me direction, keep me on track, fill me – and leave no room for the darkness. At the time, I had some wounds that hadn't yet been tended and unfortunately, sometimes light could leak out of me like a sieve. That's no longer the case – I have done work on myself, I have agency.
If my marriage does not work out, I need to hold on and not get knocked down. I need to remember these things. I think I needed this time simply to get a handle on that – to know where the railings are so I can grab ahold if I lose my footing.
If yoga has taught me anything, it's that I can do a lot more than I ever would have imagined – particularly when it comes to balance and flexibility. Many things have taken time and practice, while others required making a simple decision – or just changing my mind that I could, in fact do it. Grounding into the earth allows me to lift higher. Taking a moment to feel all the points of my foot touching the ground allows me the assuredness to be bolder with my balance. I will certainly need to stay grounded to address this next phase and most importantly, I need to draw a new map of who I am – one that doesn't involve a cliff off which I might fall anytime.
