"You have to be imaginative! Think of how you want the bathroom to look! It can look however you like!" Fauco said with excitement.
In a blue linen shirt, khaki shorts, flip flops, a wooden beaded necklace with a long, silver ponytail, Fauco is an unlikely plumber.
"You're from Los Angeles?! I was a boat captain, a skipper and I used to captain a boat for a girl from Los Angeles!" he told me animatedly.
He tossed of his flip flops as he came in the house and by the end of the visit, led me on a (barefoot) survey of the roof, every side of the house, the front yard – and highlighted every aspect of how the plumbing works – from the piping to the gray water trap to the well-water. He made all his suggestions including setting up sprinklers for the lawn and moving some of the piping that is currently external to be internal for safety.
But if his appearance and energy weren't enough to make clear Fauco is not ordinary plumber, he made other suggestions too. The entire house was his canvas. "We can bring up these counters and then bring them to fill up this space so it's one long "L" he in the kitchen – leaving me wondering if he was a plumber or a general contractor. On the roof, he offered to remove the large blue guard rail I don't like – and also to replace the handrail on the stairs up to the roof with something smaller and more attractive. In the kitchen, Fauco offered to clear out the wall tiles – because they're boring an unattractive. He's happy to demo the bathroom. He'll change one of the bathroom cabinets to open to the bedroom instead of the bathroom which will reduce interior humidity. I found myself wondering, "Who is this masked plumber?"
Honestly, if Fauco hadn't given me so much detail about the plumbing itself, I would have wondered if Prokopis (of the hardware store) had misinformed me about what specialist he had sent.
But at the heart of the matter were three things: 1. a solar hot water heater on the roof (the new standard for Patmos) 2. new bathroom pipes – because as long as the patient has been opened up for surgery, get all the work done you can and 3. arranging the bathroom anyway I'd like. Fauco kept emphasizing this last point. He said it can be laid out anyway I want just as easily – so go for the best feel. He making it so the washer and dryer can go in the closet, putting the toilet in that corner, making room for a large slower in the corner where the toilet is currently – and then a nice large counter and sink on the opposite wall. I kinda' liked that. He can then work with Yorgos – who specializes in concrete and plaster – to build a beautiful, sculpted shower and sink.
Then Fauco made the suggestion that surprised me the most, "It would help if there was someone to manage the project – like Prokopis. Maybe you can get him to manage it and coordinate between me, Yorgos, Mohammad so it all comes together?"
"Like a general contractor? I didn't think Prokopis would do that – he's so busy with his store."
"Prokopis makes money of all of this – we all buy everything from him. It's in his interest to help. He trusts me and I trust him. And Yorgos does. He can communicate with you when you're away It would be perfect."
So it came to pass that I went and asked Prokopis for his hand in contracting and he agreed. He likes bathrooms and just did his own. He's done six now among the properties he and his wife have. He'll set a date with Yorgos and Fauco – probably for October. Fauco will get me a hard proposal.
"I will write everything out, and you will pay exactly what I write. Not more. That is how I do it." Fauco explained.
Now we just have to see what he writes and if I need to narrow the scope of this very creative and expansive plumber.
"First, we'll need to get rid of the tiles. I might need to find someone for that," Prokopis said.
"I think Fauco does that. For a plumber, Fauco seems to like demo work a lot," I replied.
"Yes, we all like that! I think he does do that sometimes – so that's fine if he wants to do it."
My next Fauco-issued assignment is to go to the plumbing supply shop and select a toilet, faucet, showerhead, etc. "You choose what you like so we know and don't have to try to guess or send you pictures later."
Fair enough. I feel like these guys have more vision for my bathroom than I do and no one is more excited about it that Fauco who seemed more like he was heading off to cocktail hour (at 9:15 am) than to his next plumbing job.
If this had happened at home – as if it could or would – I would question the plumber's legitimacy and might have thought I was being hustled. It crossed my mind, for sure. But I have learned that on Patmos, everything is a chain of relationships – one person refers you to the next and that one brings in another. It's the only way things get done. Contractors who work comfortably together are good.
Prokopis, for example, thinks Yorgos' work is much better and more sophisticated than what Mohammad and Hassan can offer – "They're smart, they want to learn, but they learn off your back. It takes them six or so projects and then they get it. But those first six customers are crying."
Through time and conversations, I'm able to validate everyone's credentials. George the property manager said Mohammad is the best for paint – and Christos who owns Mostra loves Mohammad. Theodoros the Greek architect I met at party Monday night knows and respect Katerina who I consulted about a second bathroom. Prokopis (the hardware store owner) is respected by all. And Prokopis the contractor who is doing my kitchen counters and cabinetry was also validated by George as being one of the best. Prokopis, Michaelis, Mohammad and Fauco all like Manolis the electrician – saying he's the best if you can get him. Of course, Manolis was the first person Dimitris of Grikos (the appliance guy) called when he discovered the split electricity line in my kitchen.
I've learned to follow the connections – one person to the next until maybe I have what I need. I'm also learning that our definitions of what people do aren't quite as strict or specific on Patmos. A hardware store owner can be a GC. A painter can also be a carpenter. A plumber can be a skipper, a demolition contractor, an interior designer, an artist and a socialite. Patmians are non-binary with their tradespeople.
On my way to Prokopis' shop, I was shocked to find a red van barreling full-speed down my "street" that's supposed to be a pedestrian zone. "Supposed to be" is the key phrase because vehicles still come onto it primarily for deliveries. So while it's not uncommon to find someone driving there, it's usually with some amount of caution and for a practical purpose. However, the van was just passing through and turning down a side street. Then came two more cars doing the same. I discovered the cone at the end of the street that typically blocks people from doing that – or at least sends a message that it's not permissible to drive through – was gone.
As I passed Andreas' gelato shop, I asked him in French, as is our custom, why there are suddenly so many cars – isn't it supposed to be a pedestrian zone? He didn't quite catch what I said, but the French family enjoying their gelato did and translated my French to English – assuming Andreas would understand it better. It took us a moment to sort out all of our nationalities and who spoke which languages and why. In the end, Andreas had no idea why the street had become a through-way – nor did he seem to care very much, giving off that air that it's Patmos and best not to try too hard to understand.
Meanwhile the French couple with four young children – I'd guess all under the age of right – spoke excellent English and have been to Los Angeles. As we exchanged stories, they asked where my wife and kids were. I explained that I'm just divorced and my kids were here for part of the summer and are now at home with their mom.
"Are you happy with your divorce?" Camille asked me.
"Not really," I said.
"So you didn't want it, she did?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"She has the 40-year-old crisis, doesn't she?"
"Yes I think that's how you could describe it."
"Of course! All these women turn 40 and they decide they want to party and have fun – and they don't need a man. They get rid of their husbands or boyfriends or partners. It always happens this way! Then they turn 50 and they are alone and unhappy. They end up missing the husband – who they realize was perfectly good in the first place!"
"I guess so. Thanks!"
"It's so typical – I see it a lot. Right now, she's happier. But in 10 years, you'll be happier and she will not. She will have thrown it all away for nothing. You'll see. I wish I could talk to your wife right now – because I've seen this!"
"Well, thank you!" I said sheepishly.
Camille was more charged about my divorce than I was just as Fauco was more excited about my bathroom. Maybe it's just one of those days when other people hold space for you. Or, maybe this refutes Rabbi Hillel's question, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" Apparently Fauco and Camille will. Or at least they're sending me important messages, Either way, I'm grateful.
A year and three months ago, I sat exactly where I am right now – at the same table at Stelios – writing another blog. Only they wouldn't make me crepes back – those only come out on summer afternoons and evenings. Still, this is one of my favorite spots on Patmos to work. Doing new things is important to expanding your world and challenging your worldviews. Returning to places adds depth and measurement. Sitting here, I remember how I felt during the ten weeks of trial separation from mid-March through May 2022. I remember all the heartfelt blogs I wrote and how there were more tears and melancholy than smiles and hope. I never would have imagined a pony-tailed plumber designing my Patmos bathroom or a French stranger laying out the story of my divorce in a few strong sentences. There was so much pain and destruction I desperately hoped to prevent and avoid – and therefore so much beyond my sight.
In late 2018, The Woolsey Fire burned far and wide threatening so much of Los Angeles and its suburbs – including our house. We were evacuated and spent a few days at my in-laws' house in Encino, hoping our neighborhood would be spared. Driving home for the first time after we were cleared to return, the hills from Calabasas to Thousand Oaks were scarred and barren – it felt like massive destruction or an alien landscape. It was hard to imagine things would ever return to the way they were.
In Spring, bright, vivid wildflowers sprung up throughout the hills and canyons, and so many butterflies came out that they flooded the air, even filling the freeway. It was like something out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel.
I'm not sure my life is yet filled with butterflies and wildflowers, but it's no longer just scarred hillsides. Gabriel Garcia Marquez novels have all kinds of twists and turns no one – other than him – could ever imagine. Maybe my next chapters will have some magic realism – with and without crepes.
