May 24th, Tochni

Published in the The Greek and Cypriot Notebook

It was Sunday morning in the taverna and busloads of out-¬of-towners were in Larnaca for the Feast of St. Helen (Eleni, in Greek). Every chair in the taverna was filled and there were only two people working the bar. I stood at the counter patiently waiting to order the double cappuccino medium with sugar that I brought Layne every morning and afternoon. Locals pushed ahead of me, yelling to the barista in Greek. He was serving everyone without turning around, keeping his eyes on the steaming milk on his two-burner hot plate. No one paid any attention to me at all. I realized that I was mostly in the way of the others behind me, holding things up. Every morning the woman at the taverna had helped me but today she was busy, setting up tables, bringing people water and coffee. After 15 minutes, she came to the bar and looked up at me and shouted, “You want another big one?” I laughed out loud and she laughed too. “Yes! I want a big one!” She turned to the barista and said something to him in Greek.

Every morning and afternoon I had been to her taverna to buy a coffee to go. The first day we’d gotten into an argument of sorts—she’d asked me for 50 pence (about a dollar) for a double cappuccino. “What???” I said, “That’s too little money! It must be much more!” She wouldn’t take any more money, so I paid her 50 p. and poured the rest of my change onto a saucer on the counter. We had repeated this argument every day since—”No, you must charge more. I would pay much more.”

Today, after she gave the barista my order, people continued to shout and push in front of me while I stood, patient and motionless as a statue, not knowing what I should be doing. Several minutes later the owner returned and looked up at me and turned to the barista and scolded him severely and slammed a large coffee cup in front of him. He made my coffee and for the first time since I’d been in the taverna that morning he turned around and handed me my coffee, bowing slightly. “Epharisto” I said, and “Epharisto!” I called out to the owner over the roar, as she walked away from me. “Thank you” I said, waving a Euro coin over my head, pointing toward her jar, having to leave immediately to get Layne her coffee before the class began. She stopped and walked back to me and shoved me away from the counter. “Ah, get out of here. No charge today. It’s St. Eleni’s day.”