Ioannina, Greece, May 14, 2005

Published in the Journal, The Greek and Cypriot Notebook

Tonight I decided to ditch the group and shouted goodbye and by the time anyone realized what was happening, I had jumped onto a boat that had already begun leaving the pier. But I almost immediately got lost on the disorienting backstreets of Ioannina. I had no idea whether I was walking toward or away from my hotel. The local schoolboys laughed and called me names in Greek and threw green apples at my back. I assumed I could easily find a place to eat and rest on my way back to the hotel, but instead I walked for several hours through endless residential neighborhoods. By the time the sun was going down, my feet and legs were exhausted and I knew I couldn’t think my way out of this and so I gave up even trying to decide what direction I should be walking and almost immediately came to the center of town I entered the first restaurant I saw. I placed my order and grabbed a Coke and sat outside the empty dining room, looking toward the center of town. When she brought my souvlaki, I looked up at her with genuine gratitude and said, effaristo, thank you, for so much more than bringing me food. And as I was eating a family came walking out of the alley and I smiled up at them and they smiled back at me, and then looked in the restaurant, said a few words to each other, reversed direction, and entered the restaurant. And then another couple crossed the street to stand behind them at the counter, and then a foursome of college kids, smoking and laughing. By now the very busy restaurant was so noisy it was difficult to hear the radio but when “Gloria” by Van Morrison came on, the kids in line began to dance, and the next song was “I Want a New Drug” and they pushed the formica tables into the corner to create a dance floor, and a couple and their two young children walked past, but the children dragged their parents back into the restaurant. They ran past me to grab Cokes from the refrigerator while their parents got in line and the waitress suddenly looked up from giving change to catch me staring at her, and I could feel something very much like gratitude in her eyes, her face a little anxious, worried at first, until I smiled and she half turned away and blushed, straightening her hair in the mirror and practicing her smile. By now the restaurant was so crowded I had to squeeze past a stylish couple in their twenties dancing to “Hotel California” to bring my empty plate to the counter and drop a handful of coins into her tray, smiling and saying “Effaristo,” and she blinked back at me and said in perfect English very clearly “Thank you too.”