Solitude

I generally only really need some “me time” every now and again. Most of you know that about me. If you don’t know that, we’re not as close as you think we are. Anyway, right now is every now and again.

I woke up this morning and prospect number two was still here. I shouldn’t have expected any less after the night of vivid, intense, crazy dreams I had. It had to have been something I ate. In one of the dreams I was somehow in Prague and Nashville at the same time, driving around with me brother trying to make it to the airport to pick up Tomas. In the course of the dream I managed to drive and demolish four successive vehicles. One was a Ferrari; I remember that much. In another dream, I somehow was with Geoff who chewed me out completely for making fun of our friend’s mom. I couldn’t convince him that I was making fun of her. He just completely laid into me. I was in such a state of shock that I got up to leave and couldn’t put my own shoes on. So Geoff did it. They were snow shoes…

After a night like that, why wouldn’t I expect the strange girl to not have left yet? We were informed shortly before breakfast began that we would be heading for Corinth. Wait for it… without number 2. At least that was a relief. Granted, I hadn’t wanted to do that with Geoff and Breanna, but anything sounded better than any more time with Dos the unemployed cellphone gamer.

Corinth was actually fairly impressive. The museum was small but incredible. It had a great number of mostly intact statues and artifacts. The collection rooms were compact, yet they held a surprising number of antiquities in each one. I honestly would have to rank it in the top five museums I’ve seen before. That list includes the Louvre,  the Met, and the Vatican museum. It took about an hour and a half to get to Corinth. It wasn’t too bad, though. The three of us were cramped in the back seat of Tony and Elle’s car, but I’ve been in worse traveling situations. The highlight of the trip for me was honestly when we stopped at the Isthmus of Corinth. Apparently I took an entire course on the Panama Canal at Vanderbilt and read maybe 500 pages about Ferdinand De’Lesseps without realizing that in addition to his triumph of the Suez Canal and his abysmal failure in Panama (which consequently nearly bankrupted the entire country of France), De’Lesseps actually built a beautiful canal outside of Corinth. It was awe-inspiring seeing the massive gash they ripped through the earth to connect two opposing ports with a sea-level connection. It wasn’t the Panama Canal by any means, but seeing it felt like I had met with an old friend. It was quite a treat.

So I have to make a bit of a confession here. I’m actually here at a coffee shop in the small town of Spaton (Spah’-tuh) in a sort of act of civil disobedience. In my mind I guess I had forgotten just how out of hand things can get here. When Elle gets an idea in her head, it’s almost impossible to get around it. And I probably haven’t sufficiently related my status here in Greece to you all. Tony and Elle are great hosts, and I’m a welcome guest. But compared to Breanna and especially Geoff, I’m a second-class citizen at best. The main focus for Elle and Tony is to show Geoffrey off to as many friends and relatives as they possibly can (and I promise you have no idea how many of those people there are). That is priority one here. Geoffrey goes along quietly with it because he understands it is his filial responsibility. He owes that to his aunt and uncle and to his heritage.

Next on the list of priorities should be what Geoff wants to do. Luckily, that’s usually the same thing I generally feel like doing. Unfortunately, the variable here is what Breanna wants and what she needs for her class. Geoffrey will without hesitation (which is only right) make very pointed plans to make sure she gets to take care of all of this stuff. I understand that. I only wish they could handle that stuff after I leave. Fortunately, neither of them lords these privileges of rank over me. However, in instances like today, Breanna needed to go to Corinth and another place, a very large and famous ancient outdoor amphitheatre. It was nice, but it took an extra two and a half hours of riding in the cramped back seat, and we only looked around at the amphitheatre for about thirty minutes. For almost the entire ride Elle had the air conditioner pointed directly on her in the front seat. Sometimes she go too cold and closed her vents. Meanwhile, I scrunched myself up in a ball to avoid spilling all over Breanna in the middle. The heat and cramp in the back, combined with the long winding roads through the mountains and the sun baking me through the window left me feeling utterly exhausted and disgusted, and a little bit sick. To top it off, when we got home, we discovered that Elle and Tony had locked us out of the house and we had to wait for a locksmith to come and let us in. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the ride not made me a little sick. 

Tomorrow our whole day has been decided for us. Elle and Tony have some friends who pastor a small church on the Island of Evea. Tony and Elle want Geoffrey to go to their church and play his Greek song for them. That sounds exotic being on an island and all, but it’s a huge island. It’s not like one of those quaint ones you see on the travel channel. So we will spend the whole day getting to Evea and looking around just so Geoff can perform a 5 minute song. I feel like Colonel Fitzwilliam in Pride and Prejudice. I am completely at Geoff’s leisure here. I go everywhere his schedule demands.

I know. That’s the price I pay for free room and board in Greece. I am aware that I am being whiny and ungrateful. I fully admit that it’s my fault and I should have known better. For some reason I saw this going differently in my head, though. For example, if I were asked by the other what I wanted to do before I leave on Friday, I would say, “I would like to relax at somewhere, preferably the sea, but more preferably that isn’t in another church.” I mean I love Jesus and all, but I’ve been to more church functions in the last week than I usually go to in a month at home.  Silly me, I came here for some beach time. I knew better. Oh well, one foot in front of the other. There are far worse positions to be in.

I would apologize here for whining so much, but this is my travel blog, and this is how I feel right now. So I really don’t need to apologize for anything. Not to you all. Now, my need to repent for selfishness and ingratitude is a different thing altogether. Hopefully Thursday will consist of the following, hours and hours at the beach, souvlaki, sea-bathing, and sea-side coffee shops. Beautiful girls who need a green card would be a nice addition but are by no means mandatory. I’ll let you know how that goes. Oh, because I’ll be in Evea tomorrow, don’t expect a post. I’ll try to write one and save it till the next day and post two at one time.

Update: It's the next morning and I've figured out why it is I'm feeling the way I am. Here in Greece we are treated like children. We are taken care of very well, but our freedom of choice is extremely limited. Though I am generally at Geoffrey's leisure, we are more importantly all at Tony and Elle's leisure. Take this morning for example. We ended up sitting around the apartment for nearly three hours with nothing to do because Elle and Tony had not decided to take us to the coffee house yet. Geoff had convinced Tony and Elle that Breanna needed to go to the coffee shop by the beach because she needs a fast, reliable connection to the internet to upload video for her class blog. Now, there are buses that go from Spaton to the beach, but they have not asked around to find out how we use them. So instead of heading 15 minutes down the road to the beach and taking care of our business and then heading back, we waited around in the living room for a few hours until Tony could drive us. 

And let me clarify about the island so I don't sound TOO ridiculous. I say we are going to an island, but that's sort of the same as going to Australia and saying "we're going to an island." It's not anywhere near that size, but once you drive inland, it might as well not be an island. And although we are staying at a place that is about 300 yards from the sea, we won't be allowed to go unless Tony and Elle give us the green light. So if it's like last time, most of our stay on the island will be at someone's place while Tony and Elle visit and catch up with some old friends. It really is just like being a 28-year-0ld child. And as silly as this might sound, it's becoming increasingly difficult not to act like a child. As an adult, I've become so accustomed to just coming and going as I please. It's very frustrating. If this were a mission trip or something like that, it would be easy feel differently, but coming on vacation and being taken to a friends family reunion meetings becomes weary. I guess it's all a good practice in patience.

Everybody hurts… sometimes

You can’t help but find humor when you are over here. People are different, but we’re all the same. Elle has been after me since last week about needing to take her favorite girl Rebecca out for some coffee when she gets back from her missions trip this week. She gave me a big speech about it this morning in fact before I went out for a run. She said she had been praying about the two of us and that I should be praying about it, too.

 

So today at the beach I thought a lot about how seriously Elle seems to be considering all of this. Then when we got home tonight, Elle informed me that another guest had been added to the dinner party tonight. She said, “Oh Jeff, come, come. There is a vedy special girl coming over tonight. She’s very speereetual, and she’s preetier than the other wan.” I knew what this meant. I knew something was up, though, because her attitude had changed completely. After everyone left I asked Elle, “Did you give up so quickly on Rebecca?”

 

“Well,” she said. “You know, I called Reebecca and said  ‘Oh, Jeff would like to meet you and get to know you.’ And Reebecca, you know, she told me, ‘Well, Jeff is like a brother to me. I don’t think I could see it that way.’” I couldn’t help but laugh because I just find it funny that girls have the same excuses no matter where you are. So I guess arranged marriage number one won’t happen.

 

On to tonight we went. In regards to Rebecca, Elle at least was telling the truth that she was good looking. I found out later that it might have been a stretch when Elle said the new girl was “preetier” than the other girl. In fact, it was quite a stretch. So tonight when the other guests came, Elle was making very subtle (read awkward) attempts to get the two of us together to speak to each other. The only thing that was more awkward was when it finally worked and the new girl told me how she was addicted to the five games on her cell phone. Still, I didn’t want to be rude to Elle, so I was civil and asked questions and showed interest in her conversation.

 

A little after 11 p.m. the family who brought the new girl (whose name is a derivative of the Greek word for love as Elle pointed out) announced that they would be leaving in five minutes. I figured this would be my out, and was looking forward to my chance to report to Elle that this new girl was like a sister to me. That’s when Elle dropped the bomb on me. She invited the new girl to stay the night and sleep in Breanna’s room with her. I couldn’t figure how Elle couldn’t catch how absolutely awkward the moment was. Now, it wasn’t a complete surprise that Elle asked her to stay. She did that with the last girl, but she was at least interesting to talk to and we all stayed up until about three in the morning. Needless to say, tonight was the earliest we went to bed since I got here.

 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed that story. Now on to more pressing matters.

 

After rereading my old post from last year that I included in the last installment, I’ve come to the realization that I’m MUCH worse at writing. I am completely out of practice. I’m sorry that you have to put up with all of the nonsense that I’m writing now. If you haven’t seen it before, you should check out my old travel blog at www.xanga.com/czechsandbalances . The writing is much better and the tile was much more clever than this one. It also has better pictures because I had a steady internet signal instead of one the disappears unless the laptop is placed perfectly and precariously on the ledge of the roof or the balcony.

 

Back to this trip now. Today we spent another day at the beach. It was incredible. I had an interesting experience while I was out in the sea. It’s unbelievable how shallow the sea was here. Except for one span of about 15 feet where the sea was about six-and-a-half feet deep, I was able to walk out about 100 yards into the sea and was still able to stand up. It’s quite freaky being out the far, and it always makes you wonder about sharks. Possibly there aren’t any in the Mediterranean. At one point while I was walking, though, I saw a huge shadow in the water. I immediately freaked out and started to turn the other way and swim. It then occurred to me to turn around and look at the shadow and I discovered an unfortunate truth. It turns out that I was actually afraid of my own shadow.  And I’m sad to say it, but it actually took a little while for me to get over that and turn around and march back into the sea. This may not be the right place to air this out, but I honestly thought about any future kids I might have (apparently not with any Greek girls) and how I’m going to raise them. It’s very important to me that I raise kids who are unafraid (rationally, of course) in the world. I want them to have good sense, but at the same time, I never what fear of the unknown to conquer their desires. I did that too often in my life. And only recently have I begun to really overcome it. In fact, moving to Prague was probably my first major step in that direction. Maybe that’s why I keep traveling. It’s like returning to the high dive to reassure myself that I’m not afraid to jump. I guess once you get past the depth of the drop you find that the fall is always exhilarating and the water always fine. The important thing is to make a giant splash and hope others can enjoy the waves.

The Music of the Night

I’m lying in bed, trying to get to sleep about 3 hours earlier than has been my habit of late. It’s about forty minutes after midnight, and for whatever reason there is very loud live music drifting in through my window from somewhere in this neighborhood. Elle and Tony live in a small town known as Spaton. It seems to be a sleepy little area, which makes it all the more strange that there is some sort of musical performance going on this late at light. It reminds me of this post that I wrote a few years ago in Prague.

• Not all who wander are lost

  It seems a hard pill to swallow that a year almost has come and gone. It has slipped between my fingers, vanished... but not without a trace. I lie on the bed, listening as jazz climbs the hill and through my window to tease me out of thought. I'm not sure where it comes from. But right now it is the soundtrack to my life. Though I've never heard it and through the spaces of synapses I can make out only unintelligible snippets of the Czech language, I know it is the melody of my mood. It's unmistakable. Improvised like the runs between dominant and half-diminished progressions, my feelings wander and my waking dreams stray. How have I come this far?
  
  Five weeks on the road have left me with four on deck. Can I find the closure I need before I have to depart? My friends are leaving like the last leaves of autumn on a great oak tree, each holding as long as possible until the gust of wind comes that finally whisks them off to the next great adventure, or to the withered grasses of home that we all hope will turn green anew. And in this space of time while I'm still clinging to the branch, will I come to terms with the passing of seasons, with the steady march of time?
  
  The emotions I feel right now are too many to number and too personal to explain. Fear? A little. Uncertainty? Yes, but what is certain anyway? Regret? Pride? Satisfaction? Longing? All of them take their turn in my heart and mind. The pink, orange, and purple sky that hangs at dusk behind the panorama of the fairy tale castle and gingerbread town haunts my thoughts. Demanding an explanation, "Why didn't you love me more?" Will I leave here disgusted that the city that I for so long forsook as my new home has only now become dear to my heart? Or will I convince myself that summer brings comfort and a lighter shade to all things, hiding the wickedness of winter, the harshness of the cold, and the loneliness of the empty, black night?
  
  Will the dull pain of nostalgia soon fade to only happy memories of good times shared among new friends? For so long I lamented that I had not found a better city, but now I only wish I had taken a better look. In some things recalled from life, only the bitter taste of that which we disliked shows its face in our memories, but now I am confronted by a storm of the good. Warmth in the midst of snow, a weekend home for the spiritual sojourners searching for a little ease in their troubled lives. An unlikely battle of ice and skill between a man of the south and a man from a country that knows of snow only on the tops of Kilaminjaro. Towering modern-day windmills, waving and weaving the wind over fields of emerald green pastures that have seen the come-and-go of centuries of travelers, the rising and setting of citrus suns, the musings of livestock and the husbandry of legend and the living.
  
  In these great ways have I passed another year in a life of so many and yet so few. How have I ever summoned the gumption to scorn even a day rather than numbering it among my untold blessings? When I come to the end of the yarn laid before me, how will I give account and make a reckoning of every second that I did breathe in and breathe out without a keen awareness of the infinite magnitude and scope of its importance? Perhaps I will carry my punishment with me the rest of my days in the fond memories of what I have seen, smelled, tasted, lived, and dreamed- and in the wondering of what more I yet could have done.

You know, it’s funny which times in your life become the ones that you remember the most vividly. There are countless days that I will never recall from my past, but the night when I wrote the passage above is as fresh in my mind as if I had just lived it. Nothing in particular really happened then; I was just very aware of the world around me at that time. It reminds me of one of the best quotations that I know. I have to give Rob his propers for introducing it to me, but here it is nonetheless.

Experience is not a matter of having actually swum the Hellespont, or danced with the dervishes, or slept in a doss-house. It is a matter of sensibility and intuition, of seeing and hearing the significant things, of paying attention at the right moments, of understanding and co-ordinating. Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him

–Aldous Huxley

I hope that I am appropriately stewarding what happens to me and am doing what is appropriate with those things. I find that I am generally attuned to the moment. It’s in the moments that follow that I seem to have the most trouble. The more I practice through traveling, though, the better I seem to become.

Not a lot happened today. We went to church twice. At the evening service I actually got to help lead worship. It’s always good to add another notch on the belt of new events. I guess that makes four different countries I’ve helped to lead worship in–I’d say five, but I can’t remember if I did in Mexico.

As much as I love being here and am grateful for the opportunity, a part of me is discouraged. Four years ago I visited here with Geoff and we spent almost two weeks with the most amazing group of young people I had found pretty much anywhere in the world. If felt to me as if we had established an immediate and lasting connection. I find now that this was not the case. We have only been able to meet with one of our old friends. To his credit, he was my favorite the last time we were here and he has only improved in the years that have followed. We would have spent more time with him, but he was on leave from his mandatory term of service in the Greek army that all Greek males have to go through before a certain age and so could only spend one day with us. Still, it meant a lot to have him spend it with us.

I know that it has been four years, and life goes on. Still, I had hoped–and maybe foolishly–that we could still salvage at least one day of fun like the old times. I’m acutely aware of it right now, though, because my time in Greece is coming to a close. I leave Friday, and the week is already filling up. Granted, the days are filling up with good things. We go to the beach tomorrow and to one of the Greek Islands on Tuesday. Still, each day of bliss makes one fewer to remain, and I truly love this place.

I may be spoiled and selfish, but some things I’m grumbling about here. Breanna (Geoff’s fiancée) is getting college credit for her trip here by visiting museums and posting a blog about her experience. That’s great for her, but I honestly don’t feel like doing the museum thing. I came to Greece to unwind on the beach. It’s a disease, I know, but it’s making me unhappy with things that I should appreciate. For example, Breanna also wants to visit Corinth (as in the book of I and II Corinthians), but I’d honestly rather just lie on the beach and read all day. I honestly don’t really have any desire to go see the place. The only thing persuading me to try it is the slight fear of later regretting having not gone. Hopefully I will be able to persuade them to do these things during the four days they will be here after I leave.

On the bright side, when I do finally have to leave here, at least I’m going to Prague for two weeks to see my friend Tomas. I cannot wait to see him. I’m honestly torn. I can’t really explain it. It’s not that I don’t want to go to Prague. I just really don’t want to leave here. It’s too bad Tomas can’t just come here with me. That guy… if he lived in the States and didn’t have to answer to a wife, there would be no end to the amount of trouble we would get in. I’m going to be really glad to see him. Tom, if you’re reading this, it’s been way too long. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be there soon.

Mind the Gap

Today was a strange day in several ways. Because I'm going to bed so late, I'm waking up at noon. I hate this. Today we started with the same ridiculously large breakfast (that also happens to consist of the same 5 items every morning). After breakfast we learned how to make stuffed grape leaves and stuffed tomatoes and peppers. It was actually really fun and something that I hope will stick with me the rest of my life.

In the afternoon we left the apartment to go downtown to participate in the March for Jesus. Now, this is something that I would not do back home, but as Tony and Elle are very important members of the church and missionary leadership in Athens, we were required to attend. It was fine I guess. It was mostly in Greek and it was pretty much what I expected it to be. However, despite how lame I feel like these things can be, it was genuinely nice to experience people's expression of their religious beliefs in a foreign country. I was actually amazed that they were able to pull this march off, too, as European areas tend not to be so outwardly and publicly religious and the march interrupted traffic for nearly two hours in some of Athen's busiest areas. Furthermore, the concert that followed took place in one of Athen's busiest and most touristed squares. I was impressed at the level of exposure the event received today.

I'll leave out a lot of this because it has more to do with religion than with traveling. And this blog isn't about airing out my religious beliefs. I'll close the March for Jesus description by relating this. Geoff's grandfather was basically the most important man in this century to further the cause of religion in Greece outside of the Orthodox church. In some circles he's revered as sort of the Martin Luther (not King, Jr.) of Greece. So his family is well respected in the church system here. Because of this connection, Geoff was afforded the opportunity of performing today in Monastiraki square. This piazza is at the base of the mountain where the Acropolis sits. So Geoffrey performed with the Parthenon as his backdrop. It was pretty unbelievable.

I'm going to close with this story. If you've ever traveled to London and ridden the tube (subway), you've probably heard the recorded voice warning, "Please mind the gap!" In other words, it's telling you to watch your step because there's a space between the ledge and the subway and you don't want to get your foot stuck in it. Most of the time you look at this and wonder how it could be remotely possible that someone could get their foot stuck in this space. Even though some are nearly a foot wide, it just doesn't seem realistic. Well, tonight we were trying to get back home from downtown Athens at about half past midnight. We walked into the metro station and realized that the train that was loading at that moment was probably the last one for the night. If we missed it, we would have to take a cab that probably would have cost 40 to 60 Euros. With that in mind, we rushed to make it to the train before the doors closed on us. Out of nowhere, Geoff's uncle Tony (a short Greek man in his probably mid to late 60's) somehow missed the train floor and fell into the gap with both legs and barely caught himself with his arms and elbows. I was completely shocked. We couldn't believe what had just happened. It's not one of those point-and-laugh moments either. If the engineer didn't see Tony, the doors might close on him and break something. Worst case scenario would probably have been Tony misses catching himself, the subway driver (unaware of what had happened) drives on, and Tony dies. It was scary. It took us a while to get past that.

Anyway, that was my day and my night. We have church tomorrow, and a bunch of young people are coming over after church. I suspect Elle will continue trying to get me to make an offer of marriage to one of the girls. Well, I'll post again when I can.

Traveling and The Internets

Ok, let me begin with a clarification about my internet situation here. Basically, Tony and Elle do not have high-speed internet. I’m not ever sure they have dial-up. There is, however, a wifi source nearby that is not secure. It’s unethical, but it’s all we’ve got right now. The thing is, to get a strong enough signal to sign on to the internet, I have to place my laptop on the balcony ledge on the patio. When I say “on the ledge,” I mean “precariously balanced just to the not-quite-tipping point.” So I’ve basically got $1300 worth of plastic, glass, and metals spitting in the face of gravity while I try to check my messages and see which of my friends actually really love me and have sent me a message of some sort. Furthermore, the only time I actually get to get online is from about midnight until 3 a.m. in Greece. That’s about 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. if you’re CST. If you’re not… do the math. Finally, there are mosquitoes all over the veranda, so I like to be out there as little as possible. So to post these blog updates I stay up late inside the house and then go to the balcony corner for all of 5 or 10 minutes–just long enough to copy/past the blog to the site, update my facebook status, check my email and go to bed. I usually try to get all of this accomplished before 4 a.m. The reason I bring this all up is to say that if you see me on Facebook chat and I don’t talk to you, don’t take it personally. F you say hello and I tell you I’m on the way out, I probably am. That being said, today I was lucky and had my iPod touch at the coffee shop (which I’ll get to in a second) and they had free wifi, so I drank my Frappe while the two love birds enjoyed each other’s company and updated my status. If it were an iPhone, you would have gotten pictures, too.

So today was the best day I’ve had since I got here. We spent the entirety of it at the beach. I somehow managed to tan nicely without earning any crustacean camouflage. We then ate souvlaki (pretty much shish kebab) for lunch and all three of us got out of there for less than nine euros total. It was a success. We then migrated to this unreal ice cream shop for dessert followed by a stroll through the main drag of the small town we were in. I couldn’t ask for a more pleasant afternoon.

One feature of Athens is that there are bakeries and sweet shops on every other block, even in the outskirts of the metropolitan area. And all of them make unreal baked goods and sweets. The thing that kills me about it is that there are tons of these things everywhere. It’s nothing special at all. It’s just a part of their way of life. In Murfreesboro we have one bakery like that that I’m aware of. It’s a novelty which is a word that means overpriced. Prague has the same sort of feature, only it’s pubs that mark every corner instead of bakeries. And I won’t even get started on comparing the differences between the prices and quality the Czech beers and ours. It’s not even fair.

We ended our evening out in this fantastic coffee bar on the street that lines the beaches. If just one place like this existed in Murfreesboro, or even in Nashville, you would never be able to get in because it would always be packed, and we don’t even have the sea for a view. And this was just one coffee shop; and it wasn’t even in a busy or trendy part of the city. It’s just about cultural priorities I guess. Maybe people from other countries visit those dive country and western bars on Broadway in Nashville and go back home saying the same thing. I doubt it… but maybe.

Anyway, I closed my evening with some more of Elle’s ridiculously good cooking (Cypriot meatballs, tzatziki, greek salad, and some sort of bulgur wheat dish) and a run. I did some walking with Geoff for a bit of it, but all told I think I pulled off about 4.5 miles tonight. The lower humidity here makes it much easier to run.

Well, that’s all I have for tonight. It’s 3:30 in the morning and I still need to upload this and brush my teeth and catch some shuteye.

P.S. The pic on the left is the sea. The pic on the right is the view from the coffee shop.

June 25

I can’t neglect to post a little bit about Elliott Dykes. You know, it’s odd the people God puts in your path who end up later play a huge role in your life. For example, I don’t really know Elliott all that well to be honest. We’ve had maybe 30 or 40 conversations all counted together since I met him at Rockmont in 2003, and 25-35 of those happened that summer at camp. All it took, though, was one conversation at My Father’s Pizza to alter the course of my life forever. Before I met Elliott, I had spent a month studying abroad in Spain, but the thought of living overseas was something I had never really even realistically considered. I sat there that day eating pizza and listening to Elliot tell me about his travels. There was something–I hate to say it–almost magical in his anecdotes about this strange place or that wild experience. I was completely mesmerized. I was also saddened, though, because I knew that I didn’t have it in me to do what he had done so many times. And then there was an exchange I’ll never forget. I told him I wish I could change and be the type of person that he was, the type of person who could just up and move my whole life overseas. I told him I had all of these desires to do what he had done, I just wasn’t the type of person who did that. He said, “You know, maybe if you’re not that type of person, it would just be easier to change your desires rather than change the type of person you are.” He said that and my heart broke. I expected some sort of encouragement, some secret to making it happen. Instead, I got what I decided at that time was the worst piece of advice I had ever been given. That just sounded like the most depressing option I could have possibly imagined. I didn’t make any major decisions then, but I think that disappointment was the seed that grew into my desire to broaden my horizons. I will forever be grateful for that conversation.

Now I don’t want people to think that Elliott was meaning to discourage me from traveling. Any five-minute conversation with Elliott is enough to convince you that he’d love to see everyone travel and live overseas for a while. And had he thought that a simple encouraging word or phrase would have done the job, he would have been more than willing to offer it. Still, I know that without that lunch, my life would be something else.

On to the trip: today we went to the Parthenon. It’s sad, but quite often today I walked past some of the most important artifacts of ancient history with mild indifference. I definitely had the “been there, done that” attitude that comes with seeing something again. I actually was more impressed today with the distant vistas of the Mediterranean Sea than with the in-my-face presence of the Parthenon. I don’t know, it just didn’t feel moving today. Shame on me? I’m not sure.

I don’t really have a lot more to add here about my travels. It’s 3:20 in the morning and I have to be honest, I’ve just learned about Michael Jackson’s death within the last hour, and I’m absolutely devastated. It feels like a part of me has died in some way. I’m not trying to be melodramatic. All I’m saying is that when I was a kid, Michael Jackson was the most important pop culture icon–bar none. It just seems like whatever

ties I still had to my childhood disappeared with Michael Jackson today. Man, problems or not, you can’t deny his impact. RIP Michael Jackson.

June 24

So here I am again in Europe. This makes my third time. That’s three more trips than I ever realistically thought I would make. You know, I talk to people all of the time about traveling over here and people act like it’s such a big deal. Now I know that the money can be a big deal. I assure you, though, the hardest part to doing what I’m doing is actually doing it. The mouse click that points to “Buy Now” on the Travelocity website feels about 10 minutes long and a mile deep, and it probably will take you longer than that to decide to do it. But, you know, it’s kind of like jumping into a pool when you believe the water to be too cold. At some point you just have to jump into the water. I promise you, there may be more at risk, but it’s the exact same feeling. You might scoff at that, but I’ve actually done both–several times now–and I’m telling you… they are the same.

I really don’t understand why more people in my circumstances (youngish and without children) don’t travel.

But you have the summers off, Jeff. People in the real world have to work the three months you’re off.

Well, first of all, it’s not three months during the summer, but I will admit that two months off in a row is more than most others get. Still, if you have a career, many will let you build up vacation days. You can do a simple trip in 7 days. Most 5 day weeks of vacation can be stretched into 9 when you bookend them with weekends. As far as money goes, just save up. You can skip going to Panama City Beach one summer and put that money away for a trip to Europe the next year. The round-trip tickets this summer were under $900 to many European cities. They get cheaper the better you get at watching prices and being choosy with departure dates and what not. I’d say you could do it well for $2000 for the week. The more you go, the better you get. I’ve budgeted about $2,000 for the whole month (including airfare). Admittedly, it helps to have friends who live here and will let you stay for free.

Anyway, I guess I bring this up because as I was riding the metro (subway) back from downtown Athens yesterday, I was overwhelmed with that sense of euphoria one gets when traveling. I could not for the life of me explain why I had not done this every summer since I moved back. I know I bought a house and all, but I waste so much money going out to eat every week, that I think I could have made this happen at least twice more than I have in the time since my year living abroad. I felt almost… ashamed I guess. Maybe remorseful is the better word. I hate to say regretful.

If I’ve never told you about Tony and Elle Karalambous (my friend Geoff’s uncle and aunt), let me remedy that right now. They are the most lively, wonderful couple ever. They have been missionaries for several decades and now reside in Greece. They technically are Cypriots (from Cyprus) and not Greek, but they are ok with the confusion. They do, however, take every opportunity to remind people that they hail from the great island of Cyprus. The best comparison I can make is to say they remind me of Texans. I think of all Americans, Texans are the most proud of their home state. Tony and Elle are the same way.
This really shows up in the way Elle cooks. She constantly fills the table with wonderful homemade dishes and takes special care to point out that the way she made them is the Cypriot way and explains the minute differences like “Thees wan ees made weeth meent and leemoan like you know wee used to do eet in Cyprus.” I’ve found that no matter what is on the table, you should always pay the highest compliments to the most Cypriot elements of it. It means you get treated like a genius and are rewarded with more food.

I say “rewarded with food” in a hesitant manner. You see, Elle’s cooking is top-shelf. And thank God for that because she NEVER lets you finish eating. The first time I was in Greece with Geoff I gained 10 pounds in as many days. I think Elle could tell because toward the end of my stay she began placing diet coke at my seat for meals. and after moving it away and finishing my real coke instead she would say, “Oh Jeff! You look so thurstee, have more diet coke.” I wanted to look at her and ELLE! This is your fault!

Here’s a prime example: today we went to swim in the sea in a town called Lotraki (Lo-TRY-kee). At about three o’clock we ate a fairly large meal for lunch. At four o’clock we left and returned here to Athens. We got back at five and Elle asked, “Oh, deed you eet sometheeng already?” We told here that we just finished lunch not more than an hour before to which she responded, “Oh, ok, so I weel go heat up some leftovers.” It was all we could do to convince her that we were indeed completely full. This is how it goes every day. Three thousand calories for breakfast, five thousand for lunch, 6 thousand for dinner. At least I’ve been able to go for a run the last two days. If I don’t, I’ll be buying new clothes on my way out of the country.

In other news, Geoff began his trip to Europe in England with his girlfriend. He arrived in Greece a few days later with his fiancée. He took her in the chunnel to Paris where he proposed and she (I’m sure) felt more than obliged to say yes. I mean, it’s just plain rude to refuse a proposal beneath the Eiffel tower. I think the video is on Facebook or something.

This all leaves me in an interesting predicament. You see, the last time we were here, it was just me and Geoff. And Elle, being the attentive host that she was, spent her time plotting both of our betrothals to a bevy of Greek beauties. Obviously, that didn’t work. Nevertheless, we have returned. Since Geoff has recently left the market, the lot has fallen to me to marry one of Elle’s many “prospects” as she calls them. So tonight Elle invited her favorite over to eat dinner with us. This girl is apparently leaving tomorrow for some evangelism work over the next week. Why Elle believes it likely that I’m going to meet a girl and decide to marry her in one night before she goes away for a week just in time to see me leave for Prague, I’ll never know. But I do know this… you don’t bite the hand that feeds, and feeds, and feeds, and feeds…