I kept thinking about it. The boy did nothing wrong. On paper, he was polite – and genuinely well-intentioned. If I played back everything he said, there was nothing wrong with any of it. Only every time he spoke, I cringed a little – and I was glad my kids don't sound like him.
But why? Dylan is an American – possibly 10 or 11 year-old – similar to Sennen. He was on a cruise with his grandparents and they decided to have lunch at Sagittarius at the same time I was walking in.
"Where do you want to eat, Dyl?" his grandfather asked in his midwestern accent.
"Over there, that one, Sagitarius, it has pizzas - you can see it in front. I want that. And I know exactly what I want to order! Pizza!"
I was seated two tables away. The grandparents ended up talking extensively with a male Norwegian couple at the next table, who were also from their cruise ship. I gathered the grandparents are frequent cruise-goers and their favorite cruise line is operating in the Mediterranean for the first time this year. The grandmother went in detail through all the ways the cruise line is learning this new environment and route with suggestions for how they can improve next season. Aside from all the cruise talk which included many other cruises they've been on and how much they loved Norway and the Fjords, she seemed to know her Greek food and ordered well in my opinion. Her husband discussed the simplicity of saganaki as its beauty. I respect that.
They felt very stereotypically American.
Dylan asked politely where the restroom was. He ordered his meal using perfectly polite language. He was just loud – very loud. Several decibels above anyone else, although not necessarily abnormal for an American boy. He was just a slightly precocious American boy – not that much unlike the one I have.
So why does Sennen not come off that way? I suppose there could be many reasons some of which I as a father might well be blind. My best guess, however, is Sennen has been well exposed to other countries and cultures – and taught both explicitly and by example that we are guests who need to respect the ways of the people we visit. Perhaps also – and not to get judgy – we're not cruise travelers. We don't make dotted stops along a path, getting snapshots of the places we visit, but stay there and immerse ourselves – usually without plans and a checklist of sites we want to see. Sennen and Ailyn have walked and dined in the back-alleys of Bangkok, spent nine weeks on this very island, spent time in other people's sacred places and navigated numerous public transportation systems. They have heard their parents speak other languages and seen us demonstrate humility – particularly in Thailand where deference gets you so much more than pressure.
Something about Dylan's communication made me cringe a little. Maybe it's not how I want Americans to be seen in the world. Maybe I worry that somehow my kids and I could be seen like that – or pronounced guilty by association?. Possibly I'm becoming attuned to the Patmian culture and environment and now I share some of their sensibilities – at least while I'm among them? Or a combination of any and all of these?
This last explanation would make sense on a day like yesterday when I spent the day tempering my American drive to accomplish with the patience and politeness requires to get things done on Patmos.
Yesterday, I covered Mohammad's 7 am furniture removal. It was supposed to be followed by an IKEA delivery between 10 and 1. In fact, I skipped trying my first yoga class to ensure I wouldn't miss the delivery should it come at 10. Turns out there was no need – in the end it never came at all. At 2 pm – after several calls, some of which involved a confused man who summarily hung up on me (presumably for lack of English) – a very nice lady, who I think may have been helping her husband, explained that unfortunately IKEA had mislabeled their packages and a few of mine didn't arrive with the others as they had thought. They would rather do one, complete delivery – so it would need to be another day once the remaining packages arrived. Fair enough, I thought, but why not inform me sometime in the prior four hours? At the same time, where does that question get me? There's a time for acceptance, and this was it.
Perhaps my mood was good enough because Manolis (one of the three Manolises who are electrcians on the island – a fact learned from the man who owns the large hardware store) came at noon to look at my kitchen wiring issue. I explained how one electrical line had been split between the oven/cooktop, the dishwasher and an outlet. I pulled back the counter housing the oven to show him, which the expression on his face told me was unnecessary.
Clearly an intelligent and well spoken (in English) man, he used no words to convey his message. With the countenance of a cardiologist whose patient landed in the hospital with a massive coronary after years of being warned to quit smoking, exercise more and change his diet, he shook his head and made something akin to a moan of frustration. This wasn't an in-0ffice procedure but needed an operating room and a hospital bed. Only had too many patients right now. The dishwasher and outlet need a new electrical line but it would have to wait, he didn't have time right now. I went with pitiful negotiation. I understood this is a VERY busy time. I don't need it today or even this week. Could he possibly fit me in before I leave August 20th? After a moment of silence and a cock of his head, he agreed he could do that and would be in touch with a date as it came up. With that, he nodded to his apprentice and they filed out of the house.
I took it as a win given how many people told me it would be impossible to get an electrician this summer. Moreover, I have Michaelis of the laundry to thank – Manolis is his neighbor and Michaelis put in a good word for me.
Close to the time of the IKEA call, I received a call from another kind woman who also seemed to be assisting her husband – who had also hung up on me earlier in the day, as had his boss in Athens. My custom-made mattress that I ordered from Rhodes had arrived and if I was home, they could deliver it within 20 minutes. I happened to be home, I told her. After some time going back and forth about where the house is located, we agreed I would stand in front of Cafe Mostra so her husband could find me. He still texted confused about where I was and only found me after I sent him a photo. Yet once that came together, he and an assistant at great effort hauled a king size mattress into my house – almost knocking over the tables of Cafe Mostra along the way.
In Patmos terms, this was a banner day for progress and it mostly cost patience and prolific gratitude – plus 40 euros delivery fee for the mattress.
Knowing the difference between being on a roll and when not to press your luck can be tricky. More often than not, I like to take my winnings and cash out. But yesterday I felt lucky. When it reopened in the evening, I visited the electronics shop and inquired about the on-sale television I had asked if they could order from their parent company (they're a small branch of a chain store, like a Greek Best Buy). The TV I asked about was sold out, but another, similar, slightly newer model was available for 50 euros more. They could order it and it would come within two weeks. Still a better deal than anything they had in-stock, I gave the go-ahead.
On the way home, I decided to stop by the hardware store and ask the owner if he could recommend a contractor to put in a new shower in my bathroom. I figured he must know every contractor and tradesperson on the island - and being Australian-Greek, he is easy to understand both linguistically and culturally. My lucky streak continued as he had no customers when I walked in and it so happened, he just redid his own shower – largely himself, but with the help of a particular plumber and contractor (apparently, he loves mixing his own cement). He proudly showed me photos and I loved what he did – it was very much like the very sculpted-look shower from the apartment I stayed in last year.
"This style is very much in fashion right now," he explained. Indeed it is that Greek island dream vibe. White, simple and looks almost hand-sculpted in a way that feels like the whitewashed stone walls of the houses. "Some people use cement which is straighter, but you can just use plaster to give it that hand-sculpted look."
His also had red glass mosaic tile for the shower floor, which I might emulate in blue.
He wasn't going to give me the contractor's name or information until he made sure the guy had bandwidth. Moreover, it would be unlikely anyone could do such a project until Fall. I told him I don't have anything of great value in the house and could leave the key for someone to do the work in September or October – or whenever. Given those terms, which I believe he explained by phone, Yorgos the contractor agreed to come and assess the situation the next day – today – at 11am. The hardware store owner (whose name always confuses me, which is a real problem I need to solve) agreed to come along as a translator and intermediary.
The day had gone so well, I couldn't stop myself from taking one last roll of the dice. I emailed the architect Emily and I spoke with in 2019 when considering buying a different house that summer. Here, architects not only design, but act as home inspectors and something akin to permit expediters. I'm interested to see if there's a possibility to add a second bathroom or even a half-bath to my house. It turned out Katerina did some of the paperwork related to the sale of my house – so she knows it well. She'll be back from Athens Thursday night and is happy to meet Friday.
With that, there didn't feel like any more that could be done for the day – nor was there much day left.
Today, the hardware store owner and Yorgos came - five minutes early no less. I joked that he needed to resign his Greek passport. Yorgos is a 40ish, thin man who seemed quite natured, but thoughtful. Certainly the language barrier played a part, but I got the feeling he's not so outgoing – certainly nothing like Manolis the disapproving cardiologist-electrician. The hardware store owner made up for Yorgos and quickly proposed ideas and modifications that all made very good sense. By the end of the conversation, it looked like I would have a stand-in shower of one meter by one meter, the window would be moved to the right to accommodate, the plumbing will be checked and updated as needed and there will be new tile, toilet and sink. Yorgos can do the work in November, if that works for me.
While it was more than just the shower, it was everything I thought I might want to do to the bathroom and the convincing factor was that if you're going to break up the tile to do the shower, it's a lot easier to do any other work at the same time. Since the hardware store owner doesn't sell tile, plumbing, toilets or sinks, he doesn't have that much to gain and seems to genuinely enjoy the creativity of renovating – I felt like he was a safe guide. He says he ends up playing the role of directory and connector of people a lot both because of his business and dual-nationality. It places him in this natural intermediary role, which he kind of enjoys.
Yorgos will return before my departure to go through the details and develop pricing. I was tasked with figuring out the tile, toilet and sink I want. It turns out much easier to source bathroom materials I like online than it does furniture and moreover, I have a much clearer idea of what I want for the bathroom: Greek blue wall-tile, white floor, sculpted shower with. mosaic blue glass floor and clean, modern looking white toilet and sink. I found it all within 40 minutes and felt quite confident in my direction – which in itself was a pleasant relief.
With all of this done by noon, I was able to get back to normal Patmos life. Yoga, quick trip to the laundry and off to Agriolivadi Beach for lunch, writing and a swim. The strong north winds that cooled Patmos for the past two days have left and in the stagnant and more humid 84 degree heat, the beaches are the place to be. Without a cruise ship in the harbor, what's left is the pulse of true Patmian tourism – the groups of linen-clad travelers, largely European and British, spending their days at the beach and enjoying long, drawn-out meals with lots of conversation and smoking.
Here at Agriolivadi – a very family and groups-of-travelers oriented beach, lunch isn't a meal or even an activity but a period of the day, a social time to be enjoyed as much as the beach itself. There is no hurry for the tables to turnover – no one brings the check with a "Take your time, I'll just leave this here for you whenever you're ready…." Your table is your family table – as if it was your dining room – for as long as you want it. Stefanos, who owns the taverna and cafe, acts like the host of a classic Catskills resort. If he doesn't know your family already, he will within ten minutes and it's his preference to personally take everyone's orders despite the large number of servers he employs. There's no other beach experience as personable as Agrio. And the food's great too.
I have been back on Patmos for less than a week and it hasn't been like any prior visit. I'm working on something and applying some American intensity while trying not to sound like Dylan. I'm starting to feel like I'm getting somewhere. If only I can figure out the living room and kitchen table, I'll feel like the house at least has a roadmap. Then I can go back to the long days of water, sun, yoga, reading and eating that are what a Patmos summer should be.
