Ikarian Observations

Multitasking: Ikarian Style                                                                                                                   

      All of us in this busy world are called upon to perform many tasks, sometimes simultaneously. Ikarians are no exceptions. It is not uncommon to see Ikarians shopping, carrying on a conversation and driving at the same time. One young Ikarian took this to extremes when I noticed him riding his Harley motorcycle, cigarette in mouth, plastic cup of coffee in one hand and talking on his cell phone with the other. Nonchalantly motoring his way down the streets of Agios, everything in perfect balance, multitasking Ikarian style.



Signs

      Signs for the most part inform, give advice, warn of danger and are generally seen by most of us as useful and on occasion intrusive. On Ikaria, one is never quite sure what signs mean or for whom they are intended. Walking into the National Bank of Greece at Agios Kirikos, customers are greeted by a variety of no smoking signs and warnings. These are plastered on the doors, the walls and on the tellers’ windows. What seems apparent to most customers however, is not so apparent to the bank employees. Every other employee seems to be busy smoking, huffing and puffing, creating a permanent floating blue haze over the teller windows.  I asked a bank employee about the no smoking signs and with a pretentious sneer and a whiff from his tobacco breath he informed me that the no smoking policy is meant for the bank customers only, and not the bank employees.

Mechanics of Ikaria

      Owning a car in Ikaria is an expensive proposition. It’s difficult to find qualified mechanics and there are

long waits for parts to be shipped, so naturally if something goes wrong with their cars, most Ikarians attempt repairing their autos themselves. I was anointed with such a vision one dark evening in front of my house as two young men worked on a car. Apparently neither man had a flashlight, a lit candle was held by one man over the engine compartment, while the other, smoking a cigarette, worked on the motor. I chose at that moment not to hang around, fearing the combination of gas fumes, oil sludge, lit candle and cigarette were creating a massive potential for a catastrophe, not exactly a healthy life style choice.

New Airport

Typically, islands rely on harbors for transportation, it is not often an airport is built, and in the case of Ikaria it wasn’t until the late 90’s. The airport, at the time was one long continuous airstrip with no building or tower. To make it long enough for planes to land, tons of rock and dirt were moved and deposited on the eastern tip of Ikaria were unlike the rest of the island, the land is semi-flat. Actually, the rocks and dirt were dumped off the coast into the Aegean so the runway could be of adequate length. The fact that the airstrip was located in an area of sparse population did not stop the Ikarians from making pilgrimages to the site to offer their  comments on the progress of the airport, or to provide their own highly knowledgeable opinions on which direction the runway should be built. 

 As the last of the concrete was being poured for the runway, I received a rather unusual travel request.  It seemed that my caretaker’s daughter-in-law, Irene, had always wanted to learn how to drive a manual automobile. The only vehicle available was an old, lumbering, rusted out 1974 VW cargo van. A van that had traversed the main roads, back roads and goat trails of Ikaria for over twenty-five faithful years. It was in this vehicle she hoped to learn the intricacies of clutching, down shifting and the ever allusive reverse. The only area accessible and available for such instruction of course, was the newly built airport runway. The date of our first driving lesson was set, a late summer afternoon. As I was preparing for my first drive out to the airstrip, I was politely informed that several of the village dignitaries wished to accompany us on this adventurous driving lesson. This was a golden opportunity for them to view this modern day aeronautical marvel.

 The VW van could normally seat three adults comfortably in the front. The back of the van was empty so that farm implements, animal feed or animals could be easily transported. In no time the number of passengers quickly climbed to a dozen. With typical Ikarian ingenuity, benches, lawn chairs and stools were summoned and attached with sturdy ropes to the inside panels of the van to provide seating for the entourage. The ride to the airport was rather like a large family going on a picnic, stories were told, jokes were shared and laughter filled the van on our forty five minute ride. Upon our arrival the talking and laughing suddenly seized as I parked the van at one end of the runway. A look of utter amazement, somewhat like a spiritual awakening, overtook the passengers as they gazed out over the immense and seemingly endless concrete field.

 I instructed the dazed travelers to disembark so I could begin the first driving lesson. The lesson primarily consisted of teaching my protégé how to clutch, shift, find the correct gear, and apply the gas and to brake. As Irene took the sputtering van from one end of the runway to the other, she would wave joyously to the assembled entourage as we lurched and squealed past them. Like a homecoming queen in a parade, she greeted the crowd whose eyes were glued to her. The driving lesson lasted for six jarring trips, from one end of the runway to the other. The now confident student driver had had enough of cruising back and forth for her audience and was ready to head home.

The trip back to the village consisted of two main topics, the glory and honor that was going to be the airport of Ikaria, and the impressive driving skills of the novice driver. True to the family outing form, we concluded the festive trip with a stop to the nearest kafenion to toast the new driver and her courageous accomplishments.  

What was that?!

       The topography of Ikaria is similar to most other Aegean islands, mountainous with several imposing peaks reaching over 1,000 meters in height. Needless to say traveling by auto around the island is a white knuckle experience. One follows the mountain terrain traversing corkscrew roads often doing switchbacks, and progressing at the speed of a tractor that requires constant shifting and braking. I always find myself with a feeling of great satisfaction when I can shift into third gear even if it is only for a fraction of a minute, maybe covering a grand distance of fifty meters or so. Such terrain provides for a variety of activities, which includes occasional military maneuvers by the Greek army.

       Once again I found myself in a hurry on my red Vespa going from Xilocirtis to Agios to pick up my wife’s birthday torte as quickly as possible before it melted in the 100 degree heat. Rounding one of the numerous bends in the road, I stumbled upon a detachment of young Greek soldiers huddled near their jeep under the shade of a large oak tree outside the yerokomio, relaxing and enjoying the national past time of Greeks, the compulsive obsession with political discourse. Continuing on my errand I raised my hand in the customary wave as I whizzed by the preoccupied recruits. A few kilometers later I was puzzled why I hadn’t run into any traffic coming the other way, when suddenly as I was hugging the outside curve of the road, several chunks of rock cascaded down in front of me. I looked up to see more rocks falling from the cliff above. Then came the puzzling noises. Noises that sounded like muffled firecrackers followed by pinging sounds. As I rounded an S curve I noticed another group of Greek soldiers blocking off the road with their military vehicle. Frantically gesturing and waving their hands at me, the officer in charge sprinted towards me.

 “What are you doing here?! Where did you come from? Didn’t you see the road block four kilometers back?” he screamed.

  Perplexed I replied, “There was no road block, just a bunch of soldiers relaxing and smoking under a tree.”

“Look down there,’ he gestured pointing to another group of soldiers in the ravine below the road, ‘we’re conducting target practice on this stretch of road; the road is closed for the next two hours.”

“Well,’ I countered, ‘your comrades at the other end aren’t aware of it and allowed me to proceed.”

       In a typical animated Greek manner he explained that the noises I had heard ringing above my head were bullets ricocheting off the rocks. The soldiers, down in the ravine unable to see me, were shooting at targets a few meters above the very road I had just passed through.

       Thinking to myself later that night Greek marksmen are either very, very good or very, very bad. The birthday was not the only reason for celebration that day.

The One Euro Store

Change is never easy especially in Ikaria. One of the most dramatic changes on the island happened when Greece converted from the drachma to the Euro in 2002. The Greek drachma up until 2002 was the oldest continually used currency in the world.  

Nowhere was the currency confusion more evident than in our little kafenion. The kindly owner, Aryiro, always seemed to have a difficult time in managing the small restaurant on her own, sometimes forgetting items that were ordered. The one area she seemed most perplexed in was figuring out a customer’s change. With the introduction of the Euro her confusion turned into a full blown nightmare. In trying to convert drachmas to Euros, she spent more time doing the math than filling the pressing orders of her other customers. Food to be served was left on tables while she pounded away at her calculator over and over again. More often than not, exasperated customers would request a pad of paper and figure out the total bill themselves.

 Not to let this condition of perpetual uncertainty linger much longer she came up with the perfect pricing scheme. Every item in her kafenion would become one Euro, from a cup of coffee, to an ice cream, to an ouzo to the meze, everything would be one Euro. A simple effective stress reducer that made her life and the lives of her customers easier, she became the first Ikarian One Euro Store.

The Claw Machine

            Coming into Agios it seems there is always a surprise waiting to amuse. This particular occurrence appeared on the main square where a carnival claw machine had spontaneously sprung up. This is a money munching machine in which a coin is deposited bringing a short period of time to maneuver the metal claw to grab a stuffed toy before time is up and the claw drops. If your aim is true and with a little bit of luck, you could grab one of those furry little creatures. Well, for Ikarians cute stuffed animals and the like are not a rewarding challenge for their half Euro coin. As I walked past the ominous looking claw machine I noticed a few stuffed animals were there, strategically placed, but to make the claw machine more enticing to the customers, it also included were the following items; several pairs of designer sunglasses and watches, (no doubt knockoffs), a Hello Kitty purse, whiskey flasks, several packs of possibly stale Marlboro Reds, and a box of condoms. These appealing and eclectic prizes were available to any one man woman or child who had the coins and the spirit to take on the claw machine.