Settling In

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

We woke up very late. I think it was nearly 10:00 when I finally got up and began pottering around; Demetrios slept until 11:15.

It’s a perfect, glorious day. The sky is blue, the sun is warm, the breeze is refreshing. I opened every window and door in the house to let it all in. It’s good to be back here.

Demetrios had already bought some bread and jam and bottled water, so that’s what we had for breakfast. After that, the first order of business was unpacking. My stuff was relatively easy. His is harder; he brought one whole suitcase full of books. He says he wants to have a basic medical library on hand for when one of his friends gets sick and wants his help. And they always do, we’ve learned. “In fact,” I said, “some of ‘em, like Leonidas, actually save up their questions and put off going to their own doctors until you’re here!” That’s also true. So Demetrios lugged his basic medical library all over airports in Richmond, Charlotte, Munich, and Thessaloniki, and now he has to organize it and find room for it; those are the harder parts. I suppose a doctor is like a priest in one way: always on call.

My observation turned out to have been prophetic: Mena told us last night our dear Ianna was diagnosed with breast cancer last week. It was a very small lump, we are told, so the outlook is good. It was removed a few days ago. Her doctors are now deciding whether she needs radiotherapy and/or chemotherapy to follow up the surgery. I can’t wait to see her; that will no doubt happen in the next couple of days.

Quite a bit of what I had to unpack was empty bottles. I have a bottle collection here. The bottles aren’t antiques (except for the one old Greek milk bottle that started the collection) and aren’t expensive, any of them. But they are colorful and I’ve decorated most of them, and they do hide the two copper pipes that run along the wall above my kitchen wall cabinets. So I brought some 15 more bottles with me that I’d found in the States these past 16 months. They needed integrating into the arrangement, and the older bottles, all dusty, needed a good rinsing.

Putzing around in the domestic disorder, I deliberately disobeyed my own rule of always being ready for company by 10:00 a.m. One always pays for that. When Thomai and Zisis rang the doorbell, our downstairs neighbors, I had taken a shower, had put rollers in my hair, and was wearing only a summer bathrobe; Demetrios, who forgot to pack his bathrobe, was actually wearing my winter one to keep warm! No choice; I had to be the one to nswer the door. But naturally, Thomai and Zisis saw immediately that they should come back later. Tomorrow morning I’ll call on them. At least we got in some hugs before they departed, all of us somewhat embarrassed. They’re such good people, though, I think you could be naked around them without the embarrassment being huge.

In the afternoon, we went shopping. First stop, Masoutis, the supermarket. We met Nektarios en route; he’s the local computer guru. I told him I can’t get on the Internet this time the way I could last visit, when my laptop automatically zeroed into a wireless network somewhere in our building that didn’t have security and voila, the Internet! Nektarios said there are a couple of solutions, but they’re expensive. I’ll keep exploring options, but for now I’ll go to the nearest Internet café. My e-mail address, however, will remain the same, and yes, I can access it from there: anastasiatheo01@verizon.net.

At Masoutis, we bought laundry detergent, period.

Then on to Nikoletta’s and Stelios’ store, where we bought some of her famous tarama (“Greek caviar”) along with some olives, some octopus she prepared herself, anchovies, halvah, and chocolate.

We dropped our packages at home and went back out for a sandwich at a nearby shop. On the way, I remarked that so far, I hadn’t seen a single feral cat. That’s very unusual! Their population does seem to fluctuate. Times like this, when there aren’t very many, the ones you do see are in relatively good shape, though; that’s the good part.

No sooner had we bitten into our sandwiches than the first cat appeared, a lovely pastel calico with ”mascara,” that is, eyes lined with a black rim, a trait sought after by cat fanciers. I fed her on our way out, having already put the ever-present baggie full of cat kibble in my purse. She was grateful even for this dry stuff two years old.

Next stop: confectioner! We each bought a pastry, plus some candied fruits and chocolates to keep on hand for guests.

Last stop was the vegetable stand, where we got warm greetings and hugs from Vasiliki. Anesti, her husband, was out running an errand. Vasiliki told us, however, that he had seen us earlier.

Vasiliki had a new map of the world Anesti had given her, which she unrolled had us point out to her where we live in America. Close to Ouasington, she noted, which fact brought on a discussion of politics. “Your parents came to America from where?” she asked.

“They were born in America.”

“But your grandparents?”

“She is basically English,” said Demetrios, simplifying some. (My family is Welsh, Scotch, Irish, and English. Maiden name, Jones, definitely Welsh!)

“Ah, English, then, not really American!” said Vasiliki. She had been eager to determine this because she had some things to say about Americans she feared might offend a real one. She had heard about our high rate of joblessness, and had heard that some Americans were reduced to living in tents. So how was it Americans still wanted to make wars? The money could be better spent at home than on wars abroad!

(By the way, I’m as American as a white person can be. Most branches of my family were in America before the Revolutionary War. I don’t take offense at people’s political opinions, though.)

We bought potatoes, onions, carrots, eggplant, navel oranges, and bananas, and headed home to unload our treasures. We split the first orange. The oranges here, from Crete, are far better than at home. They are sweeter and so tender it’s difficult to separate the segments without losing a lot of juice, which would be a crime. And they peel as easily as you could wish.

About then, Christos came, and after a few polite minutes, whisked his brother off to a kafenion, where they drank kafé, and then to his new apartment near the sea.

I took an afternoon nap. Then I sat down to write this, with a short interruption for a snack-supper of fried potatoes. Now I am going to work some more on putting this apartment back into shape, until I run out of energy, and then I’ll get to bed, hopefully early. In fact, I think I’ll go look under our bed now and see what’s there.