greek thought

 
a photograph of janni down by the river. warm turquoise green water, ringed by shapely rocky walls. the veveticos river. in the background you can see a precipice towering above the water. i stood on top and pondered the jump. it was ponderous and exciting. i had already dove down - breaststroke breaststroke breaststroke down down down to touch the soft sand at the bottom. it was very deep, deep enough for a jump, but i couldnt do it. it would have been too thrillsome for me. if i had seen somebody else doing it i probably would have done it. it is often like that - you see somebody else doing something and it is like it gives you permission to do it.

when kostas jumps in, sophocles laughs out loud, grins at me and says "tsunami" (kostas being slightly tubby)

big splash

it was janni (another janni, marios' big brother janni) who told me about the veveticos river. he said "the veveticos river, carson, you have to go there". he said it with such sincerity in his eyes that i realised that i had to go there.

meeting janni was a big moment for me. i rocked up to his family's bike shop with my worn down bicycle aparatus. the travelling spirit established the connection. while i was sitting in the shade his mother was bringing me cheese sandwiches saying "janni" with a bemused smile, bringing me a carton of milk for the road, apples for the road, while he was welding back together the metalic structure above the back wheel on which i tie my rucksack, straightening out the twisted cogs of the chain wheel which c-chunk was making c-chunk the chain slide c-chunk sporadically. unsmoothly. he tied on the broken chain mud guard with little plastic clips, and gave me a pile of more clips and tyre repair kits saying "for the road. but first, lets play music" he was playing the girl from ipanema on the guitar i was giving him a bossanova smile he was telling me about his upcoming trip to paris to play on the streets, about a greek philosopher named aristoteles, about the veveticos river.

he also said "after the veveticos river, you have to go to kalambaka. there are monasteries built on the top of big rocks". after the veveticos river, i didn't doubt him.

it is amazing, there are monasteries built on top of big rocks.

first of all i thought "i will pass through greece"
all i wanted was east east east
but gradually greece got the hold of me. first of all it was a worn out tyre and the next day being sunday and me being in high up in the hills in the little village of metsovo i was forcibly encouraged to hang around reading greek dialogues under the shade of the pine trees. the shade of the trees is a comfortable place to be. by comparison, being in the direct midday early afternoon sun is unbearable. not unbearable, just very hot. when i psyche myself up into an i'm-cyclin-up-this-hill mood then i accept it all. the heat and the sweat. my glistening body. i stop at every water fountain and love the simply joyful experience of drinking cool water.

greece is an incredibly pleasant place to be.

the tricky thing is the language, especially when i am walking around the streets of ioannina with a worn out tyre slung over my shoulder looking to stop the friendly looking people on the street, looking for a bike shop. trouble is my greek vocabulary lacks both the words "bike" and "shop". the tyre slung over my shoulder could have been a useful visual prop but indifference on the street was high that day. it requires a thousand sympathetic listeners to practise the lingo. "where . . . can i . . . is there . . . new tyre?"   i said it like that, all spaced out, and doubtless mal prounounced "newus tryus i want" and whenever my efforts are understood the string of unfamiliar greek words which constitute the response have me pulling out, sheepishly, "signome, den milao poli ellenika" sorry i don't speak much greek.
which, when my interlocutor speaks no english, understandably kills the conversation.

that is when i feel like a real foreigner in a foreign land. i do not belong here.

that is when meeting janni is a big moment for me. english-speaking janni.
janni, a pillar of human friendliness, a fountain of greek hospitality, a legend to inspire all legends.

when he said "you have to go to kalambaka" i thought "nah i probably won't" - it was a bit of a deviation of the road to turkey - but now i am verry happy to be here, to be open to these devious routes. every so often i relearn the lesson that the most important question is not "what is the easiest route?" (or the quickest route, or the cheapest route, or any other superlative value-quality description of a route), but, rather, "what is the most beautiful road?", beauty being an indefinite feeling of supreme quality, as perceived by the soul. the soul knows exactly what is good; if it feels good then it is the right thing to do.