writing

If anyone follows this blog, you may have noticed my slack maintenance job this past month.  I've been spending much more time writing than I have photographing... so here's a little bit of my writing, even though this is my photo blog.  That's the good thing about having my own blog- it can be whatever I want it to be.  I've been revisiting some adventures of the past and writing about it.  I think there's something so valuable about a piece of writing about an event that an image can't capture- and vice-versa, of course.

This is a modified version of the beginning of a travel journal that I wrote when I went to Greece last spring:

May 12, 2009

The trip has begun after spending last night in Millbrook, NY with Paula, Toby & Christian. We jumped into the Highlander this morning and drove to NYC to make our flight from JFK to Athens.

Airports are fascinating places. So many people and so many worlds are colliding in a whirlwind of emotional arrivals and departures. Nowhere else can you face the common middle-class person of Maryland, turn the corner and greet a nobleman of some obscure African island, and then share a bench with an old Albanian woman. It’s the most perfect place to watch people.

When we were in the customs line there was a young couple saying their sweet goodbye. I’d guess they were about 16 or 17 years old, in love if I’ve ever seen it. I felt like I was in a movie, watching these two young people depart in such an emotional and unashamed way. It was a sweet sight, memorable indeed.

Overnight Plane Observations:

So far I have only encountered the Greeks on the plane. It seems to me that there are more Greeks traveling to, or perhaps through, America, than there are Americans traveling to Greece- as the majority of the seats are filled with dark haired, olive skinned, foreign-speaking elderly people. Perhaps this is peak vacation season for retired people. The men are loud and expressive in their speech while the women sit quietly by their sides.

People are extremely funny to watch as they sleep. Paula is dozing next to me… I hear the occasional snort, ‘humpf’, and other random noises. Her mouth slowly drops open only to be closed almost immediately with a deeper breath. I probably do the same thing. Sleeping is funny- it’s as if this entirely other personality emerges when our eyes are closed and our minds shut off to the world around us. It’s a completely different facet of ourselves that we never know- only those around us during our sleep know.

Funny: we brought hard-boiled eggs on the plane as a snack and this cute, droopy-faced old woman with a strong English accent, like that of a noble-person, told us this whole story about her Philippines friend who always ate hard-boiled eggs. The only time that she ate hard-boiled eggs was on picnics (pronounced peekneeks), she explained. She was very excited and curious about the eggs- and randomly throughout the flight would mention them to us. I think some people just want to talk; so whether it’s about hard-boiled eggs, shoes, friends or theology- anything that will allow them to move their lips and make words and sentences is viable. I’ve heard it said that people like their own voices better than any other sound… I believe that has some truth in it.

Right now I’m sitting on the aisle seat of the plane. This short little old wrinkley Greek man was walking down the aisle and he stopped right next to me. It was a bit startling to begin with, then he put his arm on the head rest of my seat. Basically his entire armpit was at nose level and he had some nasty stinky body odor. I’m not sure why he stood there- perhaps it was some Greek psychological test, like “What will the little white girl do when I do this…”. Probably not. I had no way to escape, as the seats next to me were filled with snoring relatives.

There’s an old man in front of me watching booty-licious music videos. He hasn’t turned his head away from the screen in five minutes.

An old Greek man sits three rows behind me. He has been talking loudly and passionately for the entire plane ride- 5 ½ hours so far. The occasional name of a politician litters his foreign speech. When he got on the plane, even before takeoff, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and was pouring rounds for all of his buddies. He’s quite the charismatic character. He’s telling jokes in his deep and raspy voice and everyone in the cabin can hear him. His enthusiastic tales are followed by a barrage of laughter coming from all directions, men and women alike. I think that he is the ringleader of all these old Greek people. With the encouragement of laughter, his stories only get louder and more emphatic.

I awake after a 2 ½ hour nap to Mr. Old Man Greece still chatting away and Paula still snoring.

I feel as though I’m embarking on an unforgettable adventure. I have no expectations except to enjoy. I want to learn about the people, their customs, their language, their food. This will be fun!

typical Greek Island village