From Spring into Summer with Greek Produce, Problems, and Glimmers of Hope

The Abundance of Crete in Spring, Summer, and Holidays

I scrambled up a rocky hillside at the end of May, following a goat path between sharp little shrubs. A sleek lizard streaked across the dried mud in front of me. I didn’t dare pluck any of the lavender-colored thyme flowers for fear the bees intent on the blossoms would punish me for my intrusion. That hardy wild thyme was thriving then, with beautifully rounded bushes full of their tiny blossoms.
 
April had been remarkable for the amount of produce and homemade food and drink we received as gifts from neighbors, friends, and acquaintances. I visited my favorite loquat tree at the edge of a generally untouched olive grove in an uninhabited lot for some of the sweetest fruits I’ve ever eaten, picking them before the insects and birds could finish them off and noticing that some were nearly as sweet as the syrupy Greek desserts I can’t eat (although others enjoy them).
 
Neighbors’ trees overflowed with lemons that our strong island winds blew to the ground or into the street, so bags of the bright yellow fruit appeared at our door before we’d exhausted our supply. Fortunately, I’ve adopted the Greek habit of squeezing fresh lemon juice on such foods as fish, chicken, meat, and cabbage/carrot salad, as well as in water and a chamomile/baking soda gargle. Some of the very ripe lemons are so sweet that it’s easy to eat the pulp.
 

And there were fresh, sweet Cretan oranges through spring and even into summer. An American friend of a Dutch neighbor welcomed me and my kids to her orange grove one sunny, windy day. It was a glorious time to wander among trees and pluck the cheerful orange fruit from their branches, and to climb a tall tree to enjoy a view of surrounding hills full of olive groves. I couldn’t tear my kids away from those trees, where they gleefully climbed after the hard-to-reach fruits, before we ended up with a large file box full of them, plus two huge bags to wedge into our fridge—so we had plenty to share with the neighbors who’d given us lemons, loquats, kaltsounia, Easter cookies, olive oil, and wine!
 

Such treats also played a part in the magnificent Easter feast friends shared with us on Orthodox Easter, when I contributed American desserts (carrot cake with cream cheese icing and chocolate chip cookies), since those are the only foods I can make better than anyone else I know around here. (At least I used Cretan olive oil in the cake, for a slight variation on my mother’s recipe.)
 
On Easter Monday, we were invited to lunch in a village square, where tables of lamb, salad, bread, kokoretsi (which includes lamb or goat intestines), and kaltsounia (little Cretan cheese and herb pies) were set up under towering plane trees, next to one of the village churches and a small, shaded stream, in the midst of the olive groves of the Kolymvari region. Greeks may crowd together, but they always find seats for everyone at the table. No one eats with a plate on their lap in Greece. And Greek dancing may well begin after a feast ends, as it did that day in the village square.  
 

On the way back from our Easter Monday lunch, we made two detours to show the kids the monumental olive tree of Ano Vouves, which locals believe to be the oldest olive tree in the world, and to see the German World War II cemetery at Maleme. Strong winds whipped up the silver green sides of olive leaves, and branches moved in a frenzied dance in the olive groves that filled hills, valleys, and roadsides. The winds gathered and scattered a mixture of clouds that ranged from dark grey and threatening to puffy and white in patches of light blue sky.
 

Now a hot, rather humid summer is following a too-dry, too-warm winter and spring in Crete, with the sweet scent of green and purple figs growing in the intense sun and the even sweeter perfume of white jasmine and plumeria flowers, the sound of cicadas overtaking dogs’ barking, birds’ chirping, and doves’ cooing. Some American friends arrived in June, in time to see brilliant walls of fuschia bougainvillea and pink and white oleander in full bloom near tiny grapes and little olives. Family came from the USA and Canada in July, as the unwatered oleander passed its prime, and the olives, grapes, and figs grew. We visited beaches, olive mills, Ancient Aptera, Sunset Restaurant in Horafakia, the Old Port of Chania, the Botanical Park of Crete—some of our favorite places.

 

Life in Greece Is Still No Vacation

 

 Although many are enjoying their holidays, there is too much bad news for others to enjoy anything. Very few of the refugees that European countries were supposed to take in have left Greece, Italy, or migrant camps. Greece continues to struggle with more than 57,000 refugees and migrants within its borders, searching for adequate, humane housing, food, healthcare, and registration and asylum procedures. We hear of Syrian refugees so exhausted and hopeless that they pay smugglers to return them to Turkey so they can resettle in a homeland still torn by a dangerous civil war. Even before a short-lived coup attempt led to a government crackdown on perceived enemies, Turkey threatened to pull out of its agreement to try to prevent or take back migrants and refugees arriving in Greece by sea from Turkey. Terrorists have struck too many times, places, and human beings to keep track of—for those of us not directly related to those people and places.
 

Taxes are going up more in Greece, pensions are going down again, nearly a quarter of Greeks remain unemployed, many storefronts stand empty, families have less disposable income, and still Greece’s creditors are not satisfied by the insane amount of “austerity” the Greek people have been enduring for six years now. A dilapidated Neoclassical mansion in Chania with its doors and windows gone and roof caving in is just one sad symbol of much sadder human stories about lives in disarray so European banks could be repaid—not so the Greek economy could rebound and the country could rebuild, as continued excessive austerity makes that extremely difficult.
 
Like many, I’ve gone through phases of disappointment that each new Greek government and each new “bailout” plan have failed to solve the country’s problems, disgust that Greece’s creditors don’t seem to make logical demands, astonishment at the failed political games of both Greeks and other European leaders, anger and rage about the human suffering as increasing numbers of people here lose access to adequate health care and nutritious food, and the suicide rate rises—engulfing a family I know well--and despair when it just doesn’t look like anyone will offer reasonable solutions to pressing problems.
 
I have jumped into intense discussions, mostly in Greek but partly in English as I run out of Greek but my rage continues, about how little many Greek grade school teachers appear to care about students or their parents. I have found no one who disagrees with me—not even the kindergarten teacher I spoke with. The latest proof to set me off was our elementary school teachers’ decision, for the second year in a row, to schedule the end of the year celebration that used to occur on a lovely late spring evening in the late morning, when working parents need to be at work—since morning is the teachers’ work time, and a couple dozen teachers have more rights than several hundred parents.
 
No matter if that was the same time our older children were taking some of the useless two-hour exams that occupy occasional hours of their last month of school, in place of lessons. This leads to my more serious educational complaint: apparently some secondary school teachers prefer to take a four-month summer vacation, instead of a mere three months, subjecting children as young as 12 to exams based on intense memorization of facts they will forget soon after each exam, for which they are expected to prepare at home, alone, not in review sessions at school.
 
There will be no educational benefit, since the exams will not be returned to the students or discussed after they are taken. So 12 through 18 year olds, not their teachers, are held responsible for their last month of learning each academic year. Of course, I should not imply that this is the fault of each individual teacher. But surely a general teachers’ revolt could change this terribly faulty system, which also pushes senior high school students to give up their childhood and work harder than anyone else in the country to gain a place at a free university where they will be too burned out to attend the classes that should prepare them for careers.
 

Reviving Hope: If It Doesn’t Exist, Create It

Sometimes I lose hope for Greece. But it was revived one Friday in early June. First, at the state health insurance office, I was dismayed to see a notice indicating that the person who could give me the papers I needed did not work with the public on Fridays. However, since she was helping someone else, I waited and found that she was willing to help me as well. She discovered a problem with my registration in the system: some of my information was in Greek letters, and some in Latin letters. It had to be consistent. So she took my ID and health book and fixed it, then went to another office, and came back with stamped papers. Unfortunately, I saw that she’d misspelled my mother’s name (in a way that made perfect sense in Greek). When I pointed this out, she calmly redid all the papers. Patient, efficient, willing to help: such civil servants still exist in Greece!
 

Stopping to copy my papers at the local toy and book store, Trenaki (which means “little train”), I was astonished to find it a totally different place than the previous week! I thought it had undergone major renovation to make it roomier, brighter, and better organized, with appealing, shoulder-high train ends on the bookshelves to match the store name. When I wished the owner good health—as Greeks do for all new clothes, new purchases, and new beginnings—Sophia surprised me by saying that her store contained all the same furniture and goods as before. 
 
Amazing. Sophia and her assistants had reconsidered the organization with great care and figured out how to overcome the crowding and darkness that plagued the useful, popular little store; they’d come up with a great solution. Now if they can do that, and the state health system has elements that work better than advertised, there does seem to be hope here in Greece. One step at a time, one person at a time.  

Thinking about what a friend could do if she and her friends don’t want to keep driving an hour a day to play on the only beach volley team in our area, I realized that my unconscious, unspoken motto in recent years may have become “if it doesn’t exist, create it.” Perhaps inspired by our elementary school’s wonderfully proactive, creative, and energetic parents’ association, which organized an affordable after-school and weekend activities program out of nothing during the economic crisis, or by the grassroots group in Chania that founded a soup kitchen (Κοινωνική Κουζίνα) that continues to serve hundreds of Greeks, migrants, and refugees, I started taking some modest action myself, foreigner though I am.

When I missed my far-off family and friends and got tired of explaining why life in Greece is no vacation (although a vacation in Greece is splendid!), I started this blog. When I lamented the lack of variety in kids’ summer programs in Chania, I attempted to convince some mothers and professors to help develop a summer science camp at the Technical University of Crete (TUC). My first spring efforts seemed to come to nothing, but they may have put the idea into circulation, because the following year a summer program seemed to materialize at TUC out of thin air.

When I saw that the refugees stranded in Chania for months and then years were receiving too little attention and assistance, I asked families at my children’s school to donate food and clothing and received an impressively generous response—several times. I never approached the accomplishments of many grassroots volunteer groups and heroic individuals, I did not set up a soup kitchen or help thousands of refugees as many have, but at least I got something done.

I have lived in Crete for almost 14 years. During that time, I have born two children, given up trying to keep up with their Greek, and tried to reconcile my dissatisfaction with the Greek educational system with my realization that some excellent teachers here are giving my children a solid grounding of knowledge. I have learned from Greeks, migrants, and refugees from various parts of the world about the problems in their countries, including the Syrian war and the Greek economic crisis.

I have learned to not only ignore, but fail to see, junked cars,

unfinished buildings, and scattered garbage along the roads. I have given in to the need to help feed some of the wandering cats around us and the necessity of a pillow over my head to sleep through the night-time barking of dozens of stray and under-attended neighborhood dogs. I have learned to distinguish the perfume of jasmine flowers from the scent of fallen, crushed figs. And in the past year and a half, I have been captivated by the beauty of Greek olive trees and become an advocate for the unique flavor and incredible health benefits of Greek extra virgin olive oil, which deserves a more prominent position on the worlds’ specialty store, grocery store, and kitchen shelves.

When I began writing about the Greek olive oil world for Olive Oil Times in the spring of 2015, I was surprised to discover that there was no source of consistent, reliable, in-depth information on my subject in English. So I started from scratch, educating myself with the generous assistance of Greek olive oil producers, consumers, marketers, and exporters, as well as online and print sources in Greek and English. I’ve shared what I learned in dozens of articles, but the source I was looking for did not materialize. Well, if it doesn’t exist, create it. So I did: Greek Liquid Gold: Authentic Extra Virgin Olive Oil—first, a Facebook page, now, a website. It’s all about Greek olive oils: gorgeous photos, delicious recipes, astounding health benefits, and the latest news.

See greekliquidgold.com for photos, recipes, news, and info about olive oil.

Refugees I Know: A Fourth Graders’ Interview and an Optician’s Donation

This article is not about the riots in Greek detention camps or increasing tensions over the 53,000 migrants and refugees stranded in Greece, where unemployment is too high for them to find the work and aid they need, and some refugee babies do not seem to be not getting enough formula. I will not discuss the European Union’s controversial agreement with Turkey to send back migrants and refugees who arrive in Greece on smugglers’ boats from Turkey. I will not describe the bombing destruction of a hospital in Aleppo, Syria or the “near total collapse” of the ceasefire that has led to “one Syrian killed every 25 minutes” over 48 hours in the middle of last week. I will not focus on the Pope’s visit, along with the leaders of the Eastern Orthodox and Greek Orthodox Churches and Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras, to refugees at the Moria detention center on the island of Lesbos. You can learn about all of that in the news, if you haven’t already done so.

I want to focus on connections between ordinary human beings, the type of connections that give me and some of my new refugee friends hope for this world and our children’s future in it. I will tell you about some of the refugees from Syria whom I know because they were living in Chania, Crete, Greece since April 2014, and my interest in learning their story turned to concern about their needs and efforts to gather food and clothing for them. I will discuss several fourth graders’ interview with the refugees who are still here, and an optician’s generous gift of eyeglasses to one who needed them. I will emphasize the personal interactions, the talking and listening, learning and getting to know each other, that the world needs. All but one of my new refugee friends have now managed—after nearly two years of waiting, in some cases—to reunite with family in Germany or Sweden. But we will not forget each other.

The refugees I met in Crete were not trying to reach Greece. Having left Syria earlier, they set out from North Africa, bound for Italy and then Germany or Sweden on a dangerous route that is being revived now that the migrants’ path through Turkey, Greece, and the Balkans has been blocked. (For more on their story, see Greek Crisis, Summer 2015, Part 2: Syrian Refugees in Greece.) As humanitarian aid groups have said repeatedly, walls and prohibitions don’t stop migrants and refugees; they just turn them in a different, often riskier, direction. Thousands have drowned trying to cross the Mediterranean Sea since walls like the ones between northeastern Greece and Turkey, and between northern Greece and the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, have been erected to prevent land crossings. The children, mothers, and fathers I met were rescued from rusty wreck of a boat more than two years ago, before Europe had seen last year’s arrival of a million refugees.

My son’s fourth grade class was one of eight or ten elementary school classes in our area to receive a journalism association’s award for the article they based on their interview with some of the refugees I know. After helping to gather food and clothing for the refugees several times during the past two years, my son’s teacher came up with the idea for this project. She, another Greek mother, three of our children, and I spoke Greek and English with five of my new friends from Syria, including a boy my son’s age and his older brother, who had quickly picked up Greek in their two years here. The ten year old boy was proud to be one of the best students in his Greek elementary school class.

Although the children did not have enough time to overcome their shyness with each other before the Syrian boys left Greece with their mother to rejoin their father and older brother in Sweden, the Greeks and I certainly learned something from the refugees. The students and their teacher shared the refugees’ stories with the rest of their class, broadening the circle of multicultural understanding. The Greek children’s article was complimented and quoted at the journalists’ awards ceremony, bringing additional attention to the struggles of refugees in Greece.

Our children learned about the refugees’ efforts to escape war in their country, where people were being shot and bombed. They heard about the refugees’ difficult boat journey, on which one man died trying to jump from one vessel to another in rough seas that knocked the boats together to crush him when he fell. They discovered that the refugee father sought a job, while the children wanted schooling, so the teenager could become a dentist. They saw the boys’ drawings of a home and school which they wanted to share with their brother, who was far away in Sweden. They learned that these children longed for a normal, safe home and school like the Greek children have. This father wants that for his family, from whom he has been separated for one and a half years. He should not have had to wait so long for the appointment with an embassy that will allow a reunion with his wife and small daughters. As he told me that reunion had finally been scheduled, my friend broke into the first smile of radiant joy I’ve ever seen on his face.

After the interview, that father told me he had consulted my ophthalmologist about his persistent headaches, and she had prescribed new glasses for him, as well as a test she would arrange for him. He said he did not have the money to pay for the glasses and asked if I could help. I couldn’t promise to do so, since I’d already asked so many people to donate money, food, and clothing for refugees and others in need in the last two years that I didn’t know if I could come up with the price of glasses. However, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask the optician in our village of Kounoupidiana, near Chania, whom I’d visited a number of times; he’d always been helpful with repairs as well as new glasses.  

I was hoping Petros Andreadakis would offer a very good price on new glasses for my refugee friend, and I was absolutely delighted when the optician offered to cover the costs and service completely! He even thanked me for giving him the chance to help. This is the type of Greek generosity that inspired a Nobel Prize nomination petition, and the sort of kindness we need to see more. As Petros’s assistant and I chatted with my friend and his Syrian friend, who has lived in Chania for decades, Petros fixed my friend’s new glasses. Then he checked and adjusted their fit and provided a case and cleaning cloth. If you are in the Chania area and need glasses or sunglasses, please look for Petros Andreadakis at Aristotelous Street # 3 in Kounoupidiana, just a few doors down from the stoplight and across from a large gas station. (Petros and his assistant both speak English.) Let’s support those who are ready to help people in need.

If Pope Francis can take twelve Syrian Muslims back to Rome, why can’t other Christians, Jews, Muslims, and others welcome more refugees of different faiths into their communities as well? During this, the worst humanitarian disaster since World War II, more people need to fully understand, as the pope does, that “migrants, rather than simply being a statistic, are first of all persons who have names, faces and individual stories.” Children should have no reason to give the pope drawings of other “children drowning in the sea.” As Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, spiritual leader of the Eastern Orthodox Christians, said, “The Mediterranean Sea should not be a tomb.” But the more migrants are pushed away from land routes by walls, fences, and agreements, the more they seek more dangerous routes, such as the one between North Africa and Italy on which 500 children, women, and men are reported to have drowned recently.

As Orthodox Easter and May Day approached, the sun grew too hot for many of our wildflowers. Most of them are drying up, although many of the irrigated garden flowers have begun to flourish. I admire the perfect pink, white, and red rosebuds, the brilliant fuchsia bougainvillea, the bright red geraniums, the new pink and white oleander, the fragrant yellow and white honeysuckle. I can still pluck some eucalyptus leaves from neighborhood trees and fold them to release their aroma, and I know where to find enough wild and escaped flowers (including wild carrot, shrub verbena, and nasturtiums) for late spring bouquets. I send photos of some of them to my refugee friends in Germany, where their children are in school, and a kind American friend of mine has helped them settle in. I am thinking about the world’s refugees, and especially the refugees I know, today, as I prepare to join an Orthodox Easter celebration here in Greece.

Farmers’ Roadblocks and Refugees’ Walls

Refugees Unwelcome

As of yesterday, the cessation of hostilities in Syria seemed to be mostly successful, insofar as violations were quickly contained by a “crisis group” rather than leading to an escalation of attacks, according to U.N. Special Envoy for Syria Staffan de Mistura. This raises hopes that peace negotiations could resume, although it remains unclear whether the real peace that shattered country needs is possible in the face of such factors as Russian and American disagreements over the definition of “terrorist,” various powers’ differing goals, beliefs, and allegiances, and arguments about who has committed war crimes in Syria.

Two of my new Syrian refugee friends recently joined their family in Germany. Now there is just one father in Crete, far from his wife and two young daughters, as well as one mother with two sons here, while her husband and eldest son wait in Sweden. My friends emphasize that Islam is about peace and love. They say Daesh (ISIS) is “crazy” and “the opposite of Islam.” Shams emphasizes, “Mohammed told us you cannot kill anybody—not even an insect.” He appreciates President Obama’s visit to a mosque and wishes all the world’s leaders would visit mosques to show that Islam is not equivalent to Daesh. Now he feels like most of Syria is stuck in the middle, between equally crazy Daesh and Assad, and he fears “all the people like us in the middle will die.” I am relieved that these families, at least, now live in relative safety—although that is not true of their parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews, who are still in Damascus and Aleppo, lacking electricity, struggling to buy food, and fearing bombs. What shocks me most is that children still live in Syrian cities and walk between the shells of bombed buildings. Have you seen the videos?

Meanwhile, Europe squabbles over which refugees should go where and whether borders should be closed to prevent the entry of migrants. Even the appearance of unity is gone as increasing numbers of countries follow Austria in introducing more border controls and limitations, and the whole concept of open European borders comes into question. Turkey finally seems to be taking some action to stop the people smugglers who have pushed thousands of refugees to their deaths by drowning. However, refugees continue to make their way across the sea to the easternmost islands of overwhelmed, underemployed, crisis-stricken Greece.

The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia (FYROM) allows refugees to leave Greece only by the dozen, so 20,000 to 25,000 are now stuck in Greece—a number expected to double or triple in the coming weeks, since another thousand arrives daily. Who could really believe that it’s a good idea for Greece to become a giant refugee camp or “parking lot” for migrants, with 25% unemployment after years of economic crisis? Who could believe it’s a good idea for refugees and migrants to wait in cold mud without adequate food or shelter, as 7,000 are now at Greece’s northern border?

In “The Syrian exodus,” Nikos Konstandaras writes, “The EU has faced the refugee crisis with its usual lack of purpose. After pretending that there was no problem, it took half-hearted measures which forced each country to deal with the flood of refugees and migrants as it could (or as it wished). In Greece we see the usual marriage of state inadequacy and self-sacrificing volunteers.” Outside Greece, according to Ivan Krastev, “everybody is trying to stop the refugees before they reach their borders.” Too many have grown tired of the “Refugees Welcome” ideal. But where are the refugees supposed to go? A few countries can’t provide their only welcome. It is time for wealthy countries that have not yet provided many homes to offer far more of them, in the USA, Canada, Europe, the Arabian Peninsula, and elsewhere.  

 

The Same Old News in Greece

Lately, I’ve been reading the all-too-repetitive news about Greece with a sinking feeling. Yet another government is failing to satisfy yet another overseers’ review of yet another loan program that seems to bring still higher taxes, still more fruitless austerity, still less hope for improvement after years of economic crisis. Although changes are likely after more than a month of protesting farmers’ tractor blockades of roads and meetings with the prime minister, the taxes and pension and insurance contributions proposed earlier for the self-employed and farmers could take away 69% to 84% of those workers’ income—leaving what to live on? No wonder the leftist-rightest coalition government faced more widespread protests than ever, with farmers, fishermen, freelancers, and professionals adding to the pressure felt and provided by refugees, pensioners, the unemployed, and Greeks unable to repay their loans.

In “Want smokes for 1.50 euros? Greeks lose millions of tax on bad habits,” Bloomberg’s Nikos Chrysoloras implies that the Greek government would rather increase taxes on the self-employed and farmers and even cut pensions than combat smuggling and tax evasion in cigarettes, fuel, alcoholic drinks, and online gambling—which could bring in more than enough money to avoid pension cuts. We are still waiting for the crackdown on large-scale tax evasion by the wealthy that Alexis Tsipras and SYRIZA promised, but no Greek government has managed to deliver. A recent proposal seems to imply that the government believes any type of crackdown on tax evasion is so difficult that a 60% tax rate on incomes over 30,000 euros is preferable. Just tax, tax, tax those who already pay. Never mind how much it increases the brain drain and leaves Greece a land of the very poor and the very rich, minus much of its best talent.

Ironically, according to Stefanos Saronikos, all the new and increased taxes imposed on Greeks annually since 2010 have resulted in less revenue being collected each year, rather than more—8.1 billion euros less in 2015 than in 2010. In a recession, with high unemployment, reduced pensions, and excessive austerity, how are Greeks supposed to come up with the money to pay more tax? Only a small minority of Greeks is secretly rich these days; most are struggling. People earn less, consume less, evade taxes more, and move out of Greece if they can. As Saronikos argues, “the evidence suggests that tax revenues are not dependent on the level of rates, but on the state of the economy, the effectiveness of tax assessment mechanisms, even the psychology of the markets.” So the lower tax rates of 2006 brought the Greek state more tax income than the higher rates and new taxes of 2015. Taxing people to death (sometimes literally, in the case of suicides) is not the answer to Greece’s financial problems.

 
Greeks, migrants, and refugees are being pushed to the very edge. The question is, the edge of what? Desperation? Disaster? Europe? Greece’s border with Bulgaria saw long backups of vehicles due to farmers’ blockades and counter-blockades on the other side, putting more pressure on an economy already struggling under continuing capital controls as the flow of agricultural and commercial goods was disrupted. The border with FYROM has become a refugee camp where fences and restrictions lead Greece to wonder if it is being pushed out of Europe. Yesterday, desperate refugees broke through border fences, only to be repelled by FYROM police firing tear gas into a crowd that included children. Why not traumatize those children with more war-like responses while they’re at it?   

 

Hope Springs in Winter

 

In Greece, where everyday conversation begins with a fervent wish that we at least have our health—and the patience and courage necessary to keep going here--hope comes in small cupfuls. But at least it comes. Tassoula Eptakili explained how a new “’Suspended Coffees’ campaign revives [the] tradition of buying a brew for those less fortunate.” In many Greek cafés, fast food restaurants, patisseries, butcher shops, and even some hair salons and pharmacies, it is now possible to pay for one’s own order, and also for someone else who may come in later, unable to pay, whether because she is homeless, impoverished, unemployed, retired, or a struggling student.

Students at the Delos School of Dramatic Arts made a short film about such transactions last November, and it went viral on the Internet, “spreading the word around Greece” about a grassroots initiative that follows up on what a homeless people’s group started earlier. That, in turn, continues a tradition that may have started a century ago in Naples, disappeared after World War II, and then resumed in various parts of the world, “with hundreds of businesses in 112 cities and towns in 17 countries registered for the scheme” now. What an excellent idea! 

Alexandra Kassimi writes that another Greek initiative offers online help to bullying victims aged 10 to 18. “Live Without Bullying” uses trained counselors and peers in a confidential, anonymous online discussion of children’s concerns with the goal of finding solutions to bullying problems online or at school, as well as educating teachers and children more generally. There is an endless supply of serious problems here in Greece, but there are also people with good ideas who make a positive difference here--and not only the hard-working volunteers in the eastern islands who have helped so many thousands of refugees, or those who have donated items to refugees and impoverished people all over Greece. Even in the face of crisis, Greeks tend to be generous, and their kindness can give people a reason to get up in the morning.

So can Greek natural beauty, for those fortunate enough to be in a position to enjoy it. Yesterday morning, I paused to listen to a medley of tweets, chirps, coos and other birdsong interspersed with bee buzzes. Other days, the roar of military planes or the neighborhood dog bark chorus overwhelms the migratory birds. (Or the paliatzis—the junk man--comes around, his old pickup truck’s loudspeaker droning a recording about collecting old things.) But yesterday, before the powerful winds full of African dust sprang up to whip dirt into my eyes in the afternoon, the birdsong prevailed. I seldom see the little creatures who must hide in the trees and bushes, but occasionally a quick flying form or two flits across my field of vision. These days, I hear them around me when I open the windows or wander among the wildflowers and low, thorny wild bushes and herbs on hillsides above the sea.

There are flowers, but no promising new movement, in Greece’s early spring. This time of year, the siren colors of the wildflowers seduce me, and I cannot manage to walk briskly for long. I set out for my aerobic exercise, but the wild orchids, herbs, cistus, and daisies draw me to them, and I cannot resist their fuchsia, lavender, white, or yellow enticement. I stop to photograph the most striking blossoms, pick a few of the common blooms, share them with neighbors, and receive a bag full of a neighbor’s fresh, sweet lemons in return.

Afterwards I wonder how I lost an hour. But it wasn’t lost. My favorite grade school English teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, used to tell me to stop and smell the flowers. Here in Crete, at the height of our wildflower season in February, there are plenty to smell. (I counted 45 species in one outing.) Even when our winter doesn’t feel as warm as spring, as most of it did this year, May Day should come to Crete much earlier with its bright wreaths of flowers. Tourists should also come to Crete earlier. It’s already lovely and still peaceful here, in spite of the country’s problems.