Values Proposition

"The installation might cost you 100 euros, maybe 120 or 140 if you have stone, you can ask Dimitris," Costas explained. " But maybe it might cost you less – because you're replacing an air conditioner that's already there – so maybe it won't be so much work if he can just used the holes that are there."

The living room split air unit doesn't blow strong enough to really heat the room and in summer, it does a so-so job of cooling. Figuring it just may have sat too long during the years the previous owners didn't make much use of the house or just that it might be low on freon, I had it serviced. Dimitris of Grikos as my friend George coined him told me there's nothing wrong with my air conditioning unit and that after servicing, it should perform at its best. He suggested maybe the unit is just now powerful enough for the rooms it serves – because it's really responsible for the living room, large foyer and kitchen – all of which have high ceilings. When I told him the two bedroom air units cool the rooms effectively, that only furthered his conclusion that the living room unit – identical to the others – was covering too large an area.

As with any non-emergency home improvement, I needed a few days to come to terms with what is an annoying, but unavoidable expense – upgrading the air conditioner. So after Christmas had fully passed – meaning the 27th, not the 26th when the Greek Orthodox Church celebrates the Mother Mary (which honestly makes sense since she did the hard work in birthing Jesus) – I went to Expert to consult my appliance and electronic-selling friends. Fortunately, split air units are much cheaper than California's central air systems.

Costas said if I want to get a 12,000 BTU unit, I'm looking at 550-650 euros. Very digestible. Then he looked at me and asked, "This is for the room with the TV?" (He delivered my TV and surprisingly remembered the house). "Yes – exactly," I replied. "That's a big room. And you have the kids….in the summer…." he stared at my face as if he were reading my fortune, "You might want 18,000 BTU's to be sure."  Costas said it almost as one father to another – like he was imagining what he would do in my place. So we priced the more powerful units. For 1,100 euros I can have the climate control I want – and all the choices have better energy ratings that the 15-20 year-old units I currently have. It will practically pay for itself, I told myself.

Costas and I agreed I shouldn't make any purchase without consulting Dimitris of Grikos. If he agrees with our concept and I can line him up to pickup the unit when it arrives and do the installation before summer, I'll probably bite the bullet and upgrade this coming year. 

When it was over, I wondered what Patmos  - and most of Greece – did before split air? Maybe some portable units? Or maybe they were just reliant on the stone and white construction – which is designed to cool. Older homes have fireplaces – which couldn't be a fantastic heating source, so I have to imagine at some point, people were just really bundled up all winter.

My parents always tell the story of how during their many months of international travel when they were young, they reached Crete where they thought they might live comfortably for a year off their limited budget (Greece was a lot cheaper in the early 1970s). Only it was fall and the room they found wasn't heated. The idea of braving winter under inhospitable conditions just to stretch their budget no longer seemed so appealing, so they sat on the beach and decided to go to South America and travel until they ran out of money. You can never know the path untraveled, but I would guess that was probably the right call.

I often wonder about the lag time between when technology hits America and when it makes it to a place like Patmos. If Prodigy came with the Compaq computer my mom bought for her business in 1994, how much later was it before the Internet reached Patmos? How long did it take desktop computers – or laptops – to reach Patmos? And when these things did come to people's attention, how many cared? I can't imagine them seeming very important at the time when the monastery was still using donkeys for active schlepping. 

I have often wondered when Patmos was electrified and plumbed. What went into bringing electricity and later broadband to a town like Hora? The considerations must have been mind boggling – especially if such an invasive task didn't have universal buy-in – which I'm sure it didn't. Even in 2010 when Emily and I first came to Patmos, Internet wasn't universally fast. Some places had better speed than others and we used to joke that at our apartment-hotel someone must be downloading porn each morning at 11 am because the Internet slowed down dramatically at that exact time every day. Ironically, a similar thing happened every night at our hotel in Mumbai a few months and it turned out the guy at the front desk was actually watching porn – which made for an awkward discovery moment.

Dimitris (car rental and neighbor, not of Grikos and appliance repair) was born in Australia to Patmian parents. They returned to Patmos when Dimitris was four and he has no recollection of those years in Australia. Some family members – aunts, uncles, cousins – immigrated permanently to Australia. In his early twenties, Dimitris felt compelled to go to Australia and see the place where he was born – partly to evaluate what the other path might have been and maybe to see if it might be the better choice for him since he could claim his citizenship. Unsurprisingly, Australia circa 1999 was a big, crazy modern world to a young man from Patmos whose travels heretofore had mostly been to neighboring islands.

Sometimes looking around at white stone houses and narrow streets, I wonder if Patmos is magical to us, what must our world feel like to the native Patmians raised in them? Even the definition of what a home feels like is quite different. The materials, space and design in my Spanish-style Westlake home is an entirely different experience from the modular stone homes of Patmos. Oddly, the condos I rented in Singapore felt more similar to a home in Westlake than homes on Patmos do. What does someone who grows up with this make of everything out there?

Clearly, Dimitris decided Patmos was a better place despite some of the opportunities Australia might have afforded him. One common thing I've heard from Australian-Patmians is that Australia might have more jobs, technology and earning opportunities, but a Patmian will always be behind the power curve. Greek immigrants were accepted into Australia in the 1950s and 1960s as menial laborers. Like many immigrant groups, they have largely worked hard and clawed their way up. At least for those who rejected Australian-life, there's the sense that they would always be strangers in someone else's land. Patmos may not have insulated attics or high paying jobs, but it does belong to Patmians and vice versa.

Today almost every Patmian family faces a phenomenon an American Jew can understand: As their kids go to college and/or get their first real jobs, they have to leave Patmos. The question is whether they will ever return and remain Patmian or if they will fall in love with some person, career, lifestyle or all of the above and assimilate to the larger world? At some point, even Patmian parent has to wonder if they'll be traveling to Athens, Thessolaniki, France, Australia, America or somewhere else to see their grandchildren? Will their kids' values change? In a generation or two, will their family no longer have ties to Patmos?

I've met a fair number of people who left Patmos for college, lived and worked in Athens or elsewhere for some number of years and ultimately returned to Patmos when they realize they like this life better. Like the Amish, they have to go out into the world to embrace their life at home. Giliakis who now along with his sister runs his family's restaurant, Flisvos decided making money in IT in Athens was less satisfying than life on Patmos and as his father and uncle wanted to "retire" (his dad sits around the restaurant every night anyway), it gave Giliakis an opportunity to return. Maybe when he was young taking over the family business felt like being tied down to Patmos or not making use of his education and skills – however time led Giliakis toward appreciating the life Patmos offered him that couldn't be bought with the money from his IT job.

To some degree, technology and globalization may lessen the quandary. Thanks to the post-industrial economy, I can work from Patmos or just about anywhere with a broadband connection – which can even come via my phone's hotspot. So why not a Patmian? It seems entirely possible for a college-educated Patmian to bring a white collar job home with them. My favorite 16 year-old waiter from this past summer, Michael, speaks amazing English he credits to Netflix. Before streaming, Patmians had a limited number of videos and would need to travel to at least a larger island like Rhodes to see a movie in-theater. Now anyone can watch anything, anytime – and images of America and everywhere else are ubiquitous. Michael has a reasonable sense of what Los Angeles life is, even if it's probably glamorized. Whether the outside world looks more or less attractive than Patmos probably depends on the person – and many will likely take Giliakis' journey.

Michaelis who runs the laundry went to Athens for college and came straight home afterwards to his family's business. 

"Athens is the worst. I hate it. I never want to go back there! It's ugly and people are terrible. Someone stole from my mother's purse while we were on the way to the hospital for her chemotherapy! Who would want to live there? We have everything we need on Patmos," Michaelis told me last summer. 

Of course, some of this is more about maturing than island life. I see people I grew up with around Westlake and the Conejo Valley all the time. In high school, people were dying to get out of our perfect suburban bubble to experience the world and a broader life. However, having kids forced many of us to examine what we want for them – and what makes sense financially. Westlake is no cheap place to live, but you get more house for your money than in the city, your kids are safe playing outside and the public schools are all excellent. You at least get value for your property taxes. For many of us, becoming parents helped us see exactly how and why our parents made their decisions in the first place. And now I live four blocks from the house in which I grew up – and former classmates of mine and I drop our kids off at the very same elementary school we attended. 

I suppose some things are shared no matter what year dial-up service started where you live.

My calculations about Westlake come down to things like property values, taxes, crime statistics, schools and proximity to family. I don't know that's completely the case for Patmians. Safety, family and quality of life certainly come into it, though at least for some there may be more. 

"People on Patmos, we have great faith! There is something very healing about the water here. I sit by the water for an hour everyday and it changes everything for me," Theologia who owns Proton Supermarket has told me more than once. 

"Patmos is one of the most special places on Earth. Looking up the monastery everyday was amazing – so healing. I believe in God and I know he listens to me there," Maria who sold me the house once told me.

No matter how you cut it, staring out across endless sapphire blue certainly can't be bad for you – although all the Greek islands offer that. At best, and however you contextualize it, there is something soothing and nurturing about Patmos. I suppose it's just a question of if, when and how one comes to appreciate it.