Swallows

Swallows don’t just return to Capistrano, they also return to our little seaside eatery in Xilosirti, Ikaria. Earlier in the summer, a pair of swallows found themselves flying through the wide open windows and doors of our local restaurant.

 As they flew nonchalantly in and out of the dining room, to their feathery amazement they discovered the ideal perch on which to build their snug little nest. This perch just happened to be located on top of a light fixture that was hanging precariously in the middle of the restaurant. Oblivious to the noise and crowds of the restaurant, the unconventional birds arduously built their tiny mud nest, and quickly produced three bird eggs. Within weeks three diminutive chick heads were seen bobbing up and down in the nest with their beaks perpetually wide open.  The parent swallows continued to make frequent forays in and out of the restaurant gathering sustenance for their young stock.

The owners of the restaurant, as well as the customers became quite accustomed to the new tenants and their low flying aerial antics.  Tourists and locals from all over the island came to eat at the restaurant just so they could witness and take pictures of the frolicking birds. Many of us became bird watching addicts, popping in every day to get the latest report as to the health and well being of the chicks. Quite often we noticed one of the bird parents stoically perched on top of the huge flat screen TV that was fastened to the wall at the far end of the restaurant. The bird casually observing the hustle and bustle of the busy eatery as patrons filtered in and out till the early morning hours. To protect customers from the bird droppings, tables were re-arranged and a large piece of cardboard placed on the floor under the light fixture that supported the celebrated bird nest. Customers and wait staff avoided that part of the restaurant, but during one exciting Euro Cup match, a patron celebrating the winning goal in his enthusiasm, stood up, jumped around, stepped on the bird poop laden cardboard and slid half way across the restaurant. Customers witnessing this amazing gymnastic feat applauded his dexterity and keen sense of balance thunderously; all the while the birds seemed unimpressed by the wild gyrations of the soccer fan.

By the end of the summer two of the three birdies survived and fledged, hopefully to return the next summer and roost in the same nest, still attached to the dangling light fixture, and once again to entertain and delight customers with their aerial acrobatics.

I couldn’t help but wonder how quickly the swallows, their chicks, and their nest would be forcibly evicted if this aviary incident took place in the States. No sooner would you utter the words, “Big Bird”, than the health department would materialize with hazard suites, oxygen tanks, and gallons of disinfectant to rid the Aves intruders. Ikarians for the most part take a more amicable St. Francis approach towards birds, sympathetic and compassionate, that’s why I hope to see swallows flying around my neighborhood for a long, long time.

Where's The Money From?

International money conspiracies, real or imaginary, seem to pop up on a regular basis like wild fires in the mountains of Ikaria. A recently uncovered banking ploy involves the rise of the new affluent Russians and their attempts to money launder their Rubles, Euros and U.S. dollars primarily in Cyprus and in Greece. Getting money out of Russia seems to be an ongoing and lucrative activity since the time of the Russian Czars. Wealthy Russians noting the somewhat lax banking laws and regulations in Greece and in Cyprus have established both real and bogus accounts in both countries. It has been rumored, and there is some credence to this rumor from the U.S. Treasury department, that there are more U.S. counterfeit one hundred dollar bills circulating in Russia than anywhere else in the world. This rumor certainly hasn’t escaped notice with our provincial banking institutions on Ikaria.

 

 

Arriving in Ikaria from the States during the summer of 2012, with a handful of one hundred dollar bills fresh from Chase bank, I was anxious to exchange them for Euros before the inevitable summer swoon of the dollar against the Euro occurred. Clutching dearly on to my American passport I entered the diminutive, but highly air-conditioned Alpha bank at Agios Kirikos, capital of Ikaria. I looked around somewhat warily and noticed there was little customer traffic in the bank, so I confidently figured this was going to be an easy in easy out banking transaction. Then I quickly recalled past banking experiences and remembered, not too fondly, there is no such thing as easy in easy out in Ikaria.

Immediately, as I handed the teller my freshly minted hundred dollar bills, she looked up at me with a suspicious glare undoubtedly trying to figure out what ruse I was trying to perpetrate. To ease the situation I promptly produced my American passport which she grabbed with both hands and proceeded to closely examine the outside cover. Once satisfied, she opened it to the identification page glancing at my prison mug shot type photo, then at me during what seemed to be several uneasy moments. Finally, she picked up the hundred dollar bills, rubbed each one gently between her thumb and forefinger, then she held each one up to the light examining them all for any tell tale sign that they might be counterfeit. Suddenly, with one harried scoop she picked up the bills along with my passport, stood up, turned and walked to a copy machine situated at the back of the bank. In no time she zeroxed the main pages of my passport along with both sides of the one hundred dollar bills. Returning nonchalantly to her desk she proceeded to copy down by hand all the serial numbers of the bills onto the official exchange form. Giving me a copy of the form, she then stapled all the zeroxed pages to the exchange document and filed them away, along with the hundred dollar bills in a large coffee stained manila folder. Seeing the muddled expression on my face she calmly reassured me, “We have to do this because of all the fake hundred dollar bills coming out of Russia.” Nodding my head with approval I understood the ramifications to a small bank on Ikaria if it was to get stuck with a manila folder full of counterfeit one hundred dollar bills.

So, thanks to this new crop of Russian counterfeiters , next time I try to exchange my American dollars who knows what the bank might require for such a transaction, fingerprints, eye scans, signed affidavits, oaths of perpetual truthfulness, my computer passwords? The answer seems to be ditch the U.S. hundred dollar bills and enter the 21 st. century by just carrying an ATM card, but this being Ikaria I am left wondering what are the chances that any one of the four ATM machines on Ikaria might be working on the day I need one?