It’s all Greek to me

Published: April 27, 2021 / Updated: April 27, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Greece

Remember the skinny guy who picked me up on the morning I arrived to Parga? He was one of the twins. The manager. The other twin was the chef.

While their mother Nafsika would sit at the restaurant every night and smile at the customers, the twins would yell at the staff. They yelled at anybody and everybody, even at each other! I later understood it was their way, and I no longer took it personally. But at the beginning of my summer I struggled to comprehend how the boys would shout at me during the day, but would cheerfully invite me for a drink at night.

Although both very skinny (too skinny!) they were also very charming. The chef was closer to my heart, but my Polish friend was besotted with him.

And being a good friend, of course, I let her experience her summer romance with all the ups and downs. It seemed like there had been some history between them the previous summer, and things didn’t go so smoothly this time around.

There were rumors the manager went out with a different girl every night, so I tried to stay away and not get involved. I am a believer in eternal love, as you know. Or was back then. We did have some sweet moments (a hug here, a drink there, a day trip in between) and for that I was grateful.

If my heart was not very much into the twins, it melted the moment I saw the guy from Romania. He was staying at the same house, but not working at the restaurant. He definitely stood out – he had blond hair and light blue eyes (don’t ask me what’s up with that. These days my preferences are very different!), he wore faded blue jeans and white sneakers, and his ‘don’t care’ attitude was very sexy. He fit the role of a holiday romance perfectly. And not only for me, but for many girls who came to Parga that summer.

Then there was the Greek god. One day during that summer he walked into the restaurant and greeted the twins. Family or friends, they were obviously related. And I literally stopped what I was doing and couldn’t take me eyes off him. I couldn’t explain it. I was drawn to him. I stayed close to the three of them trying to listen and understand, which got me nowhere! On the way out, the guy told me he’d come back next day and take me to the beach. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to the beach, of course, and in reality I didn’t want to say ‘no’ to this friend, so mesmerized, I agreed.

The following day he picked me up with his scooter and drove me to the most beautiful beach I had seen in my life up to that moment – Lichnos.

We hardly talked, but did plenty of looking. The beach was vast and truly gorgeous. The guy who took me there was the Greek God. And that afternoon was… Let’s just say it didn’t go as planned for some of us.

Summer passed by quickly. Soon enough I was on the bus back to Athens listening to The Blower’s Daughter, trying to convince myself, that ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ part was about me. And why wouldn’t it be? He asked me come back. He sent me off with kisses. I promised to come back.

Yes to Grease, yes to Greece

Published: April 19, 2021 / Updated: April 19, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Greece

One day my fiance told me that we should watch ‘Grease‘. I thought he was talking about Greece, and I wasn’t too keen. Greece? The country in Europe? No, thank you, too close to home… But I did watch the movie, and I did come to Greece.

It was one summer in Parga.

Athens had been an untouched land before my trip to the Balkan peninsula. And it remains so up to this day. I didn’t get to see the famous city or any of its sights. It was the stop before getting into the bus to Parga on the Northwestern coast.

Just like in Petoskey, I was put in a room with 3 other girls. I was not a freshman anymore, I was a graduate with 1 year of a serious job experience under my belt. And I had to share the room and the bathroom with 3 other girls? Actually, I had to share the bathroom with boys, too! I didn’t mind, though, it was the summer abroad, and it was my adventure in Europe, and I couldn’t have cared less about the lack of space or privacy.

I got hired as a waitress at Nafsika restaurant (turned into Gemini restaurant and pizzeria) and I worked hard.

Early in the morning I’d go to the restaurant and prepare for the service. I’d come home, rest and hide from the hot Mediterranean sun during lunch time, come out again in the late afternoon to work my shift.

I remember how much I liked my walks to and from the restaurant.

There were olive and lemon trees growing everywhere, there were walnut trees and exotic flowers. It simply was a bright and happy place. I passed by a precious beach every day and it soon became my resting spot after the morning prep.

I have to say, the heat that summer was immense. The temperatures reached and surpassed 50 degrees Celsius. Some mornings I’d be putting plates on the tables, polishing the cutlery and trying not to leave any traces of my sweat dripping all over the table.

A girl from Poland worked with me and soon enough we became really good friends. After the shift, on the way back from the restaurant, we’d often stop by at a bar and enjoy a Black Russian or two. On the nights when we skipped the drinks, we’d stop at a bakery and buy some delicious desserts. We worked hard, but we also enjoyed every free moment we got.

The pocket dictionary that I brought with me came in handy (or so I thought). I learned to say ‘good morning’, ‘good evening’, ‘thank you’, ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Funnily, Greek ‘yes’ sounds just like a ‘no’ in my native language. I remember all the diners who would tell me ‘yes, yes’, when asked if they wanted bread with their salad. The bread would never arrive as in my mind they were saying ‘no, no’!

Then there was food… I couldn’t think of anything better than a fresh Greek salad on a sunny day in Greece. Spanakopita was on the menu as well, as well as with many other traditional Greek cuisine dishes. However, in Parga I fell in love with moussaka and had that for lunch as often as I could.

So there was food. There was the sea. There were lemons. And there were boys.

Zoo York state of mind

Published: April 12, 2021 / Updated: April 12, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

The other day I came across this pearl of wisdom:

It got me thinking. What is it that I want and look for? Well, in no particular order:

  • a lifelong partner, a.k.a the last boyfriend
  • an awesome job
  • loads of money, enough to bathe in!
  • a place that feels like home

But in reality, do I need any of that?

  • no partner in sight at the moment, but it is what it is
  • I got a job. Is it awesome? It pays the bills. Few of us have the luxury to do awesome every day and call it a job
  • certainly don’t have enough to bathe in, but I get by
  • home is where the heart is

So I don’t need any of this. What do I find then, when I stop searching? I believe I find calm and peace of mind…

That is something I didn’t have when I came back to Europe. I didn’t want to be back, I didn’t plan to be back. I remember standing in my sister’s bathroom with my cellphone pressed to my ear whispering: ‘Yes, I miss you too’. You guessed it, to no other than my husband, who I left on the other side of the Atlantic. Thankfully, it was not easy to drop everything and run back into his arms, the ocean being… you know, the ocean.

The first good thing that happened to me then, I finished my university and got my degree. The second good thing happened when I got a job, and it turned out I quite liked it. The third good thing happened when he walked into my office and his smile lit up the room.

The smile, together with soft blue eyes and ‘touch me’ blond hair belonged to a young man. He came for a job interview at the company that I worked for, and being part of the HR team I had the right to be as nosy as I needed to be, to see how suitable he was for the job opening (in reality trying to find out as much as possible about the guy who’s been sitting in front of me for 5 min but I was already madly in love with him). ‘And why did you leave the States?’ – I asked when he mentioned he’d been living there for a while. ‘Oh, you know, I got married, but things didn’t quite work out’.

I did know! Two young souls who thought they had it all, and who came back right where they started. I kept looking into his eyes, his smile, his Zoo York T-shirt (reminded me of NYC) and felt this was meant to be.

There were coffee breaks, kisses, shared meals, basketball games, trips to the seaside and meetings abroad a few years later.

But I was feeling restless. I was yearning for adventures. My country was no longer enough for me. My job no longer interested me. I started looking for summer placements abroad, landed one in Greece and took a flight to Athens.

Celebrity style

Published: April 5, 2021 / Updated: April 5, 2021 Vilma Life in the USA: The Ugly

While engaged and living in NYC, I remember one day seeing this picture of Renee Zellweger.

I loved it. Renee the bride, she looked so happy. It inspired me. I knew in a couple of months’ time I would be just like her, on my wedding day on the beach.

Sadly, her marriage lasted only 4 months.

Well, Renee, I beat you this time. My marriage lasted only 3 months.

I believe it’s no surprise to any of you that my relationship ended so soon after we got married. I don’t think it was a surprise to me, either. Although to finally be apart took a huge deal of effort and struggle, and mixed feelings.

The last day at my mother in law’s house started as usual. I woke up that morning and got ready to go to work. I couldn’t start the car, though, and came back to the bedroom to wake up my husband and ask him for help. As mentioned, he’d usually wake up just before noon. And there I was nagging into his ear about needing a ride to work early on. He kept trying to convince me to take a taxi, but I was having none of it. I had a husband and he had a car, why would I ever take a taxi?

Words got stronger, voices got louder, till he jumped out of bed, grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me out of the room.

I was boiling inside. NOBODY GETS TO PUSH ME. But my rage came out only as a quiet ‘that’s it’, almost as if said to myself. I took a taxi to work.

That day had the longest hours. But it gave me time to decide: ‘I was done’.

After work I hastily packed my bags (having to leave all the wedding and bridal shower gifts) and moved out. My friend let me stay with her.

Trust me. That time was one of the hardest things I had to go through (but not THE hardest, as I later found out). I hardly ate. I didn’t crave chocolate. And for a huge chocolate addict like myself that was a huge deal. I cried, I felt lost, I doubted myself, I sought help, I was afraid.

I heard the rumors about myself. I stole from the chef, took his money. I was ungrateful woman after having been accepted to the family. The chef knew where I was staying and he threatened my friend. I had to look over my shoulder every time I left the house. I applied for a restraining order.

Fast forward a few months, I had tried to get a divorce, unsuccessfully.

Fast forward a few years, I found out he had passed.

My husband was gone, and so was that chapter of my life in the USA: the good, the bad, the ugly, the wedding and the funeral. Almost as if I had been playing part in ‘Four weddings and a funeral‘ – except with one wedding. It seemed that for a brief moment I had lived celebrity style.

My restless soul, however, kept searching for love.