έφαγα (I ate)
We say that we travel for various reasons; a desire to explore, a willingness to experience new things, an ache to climb mountains, a hope to meet new people, a need to de-stress, a goal of trying to understand the world... etcetera, etcetera. But, if we are honest with ourselves, we would discover that the true reason we travel, is to simply eat.
I ate. Each day in Athens, Nadia's father would ask, "Would she like stuffed peppers and tomatoes? Mushrooms? large beans soaked, simmered, drained and then broiled with olive oil, garlic and tomatoes? Would she like baked whole bass?" Every lunchtime, I shamelessly and greedily ate while the hot afternoon sun shone into Nadia's cheerful orange kitchen.
Last summer on Lesvos, I had felt incredibly isolated and overwhelmed. I had made a couple of friends who were truly amazing people, a young English woman and a very determined Iranian man. I also, befriended one tiny little puppy, Googool. But apart from them, I felt very much on the periphery of life on Lesvos. So, in my last week on the island, I did what any musician would have done. I went to a community choir rehearsal. There I met Mariza, a powerful pixie of a woman, Christina with her valkyrie voice, Vagalis, Mariza’s guitar playing boyfriend and a choir full of some seriously warm hearted people. From that moment, my time alone changed into gatherings full of laughter, obscene amounts of food and a meshing of music, instruments always at hand. On one impromptu night of camping on the beach, I got to know Vagalis’s sister, Nadia, a woman impassioned by all things Rock and Roll.
And so this summer, I found myself in a bustling Athens, in the northern neighborhood of Nea Filadelfeia, in Nadia's homey apartment in the same building with her parents, with two talkative cats and twenty two recently purchased ukuleles.. And I ate.
