The Sea and Me

In case you couldn’t tell from the stunning photos of the view from my front door, the waterfalls or the beaches, Samothrace is a beautiful natural patchwork of green olive trees, rugged pebbly beaches and tawny, sun-soaked fields. Above all, it is the pristine sea that frames every view, the perfect water absolutely clear to depths of at least 20 feet.

I am absolutely enjoying it – but also suffering from massive Catholic guilt. What am I doing to preserve this cleanliness and beauty? How am I doing on my stewardship of this gift for the next generation, or the one after? These thoughts are feeing my addiction to the No Impact Man blog, a website written by a New York Times columnist who has sworn off all impact-causing behavior for a year. In Manhattan. With a two-year-old and a Prada-loving wife. I’m absolutely fascinated by his progress – he intends to try absolutely everything and then see how much of it his family will retain at the end of the year. Check it out here: www.noimpactman.typepad.com

His experiment poses big questions: if I am worried about greenhouse gases, am I worried enough to keep red worms in a box in my kitchen to compost our vegetables and other organic waste? (Good luck convincing Courtney on that!!!) Am I ready to stop freezing things for storage or to spend an extra 25% of my already strained budget on organic local groceries? Must we city-dwellers stop patting ourselves on the back for taking the subway and not bagging our fruit at the grocery store? How sustainable are any changes I make? Yes, I have taken to the good-for-the-earth showers – rinse, turn off water while you soap up, rinse, exit. But can I keep this up in a New York winter in an apartment with a drafty bathroom? Even if I do, without millions of others doing the same, will the few gallons saved each day make any difference at all? Or should I luxuriate in the hot water and plan to go down with the ship?

Whatchya think? Should we all live like we have a personal tie to keeping the water clean, the air breathable, the landfills smaller? Any mini-tips out there on how to be green? Any reactions to No Impact Man?

26 Hour Weekend

It's the end of another 26-hour weekend. We went back to the restaurant with the amazing chicken-in-a-bag and delicious saganiki, a spicy melted feta-and-tomato dish. Yum! I will try to learn to make both of these so I can replicate it at home for anyone brave enough to take the subway to Astoria. On Sunday, Amy and I had a coffee in the port town with Lucas, the hotelier's son. I smiled and nodded as they spoke in Greek. So far, I'm afraid I only know a few words -- please, thank you, this one, just a little, big and helicopter. Helicopter -- a totally useful addition to my vocabulary.

For the rest of the afternoon we lazed by the waterfalls. I edited my thesis and read a book while nude and semi-nude hippies swarmed all over the pools. One group sat in front of me at about five -- they had been swimming ALL DAY and they STILL smelled awful, so I packed up and went home.

Our group is slowly shrinking -- Professor Wescoat's son, Hugh, leaves today. Cindy is safely in NYC. And Amy leaves on Sunday. But I'm still hoping to get in some Samothracian Olympics and a few good game nights before we all head back to the US!

Jumanji

During the still weather last week, the many tiny residents of the island invaded our hotel. Overnight, like a biblical plague, we were attacked by ants, mosquitoes, gnats and spiders. We were already living with huge crickets that jump towards you, not away, when they're scared. They share the bathroom, shower and hall with us, and Ryan has one as a bedmate. Due to a crack in the foundation, and another under the window, I had ants all over my pillow and throughout my thesis documents a few days ago. When I dragged the sheets out and sprayed all sorts of chemicals on my bed, our hotel manager, Evangelia, just laughed at me.

One of our dig mates, Eliza, coined a new adjective -- the island has 'gone Jumanji' on us. YUCK. As you likely all know, I HATE bugs. This is a learning experience.

Since bugs are gross, here are some photos of me measuring columns this morning with Yong, the architect, and other teammates.

Festival, Cindy and the Simpsons

Yesterday we went to the Saints day festival. The evening before we heard bells ringing from the burnt-out church. The congregation had gathered in lawn chairs on the porch and in the parking lot. I saw the priest and cantor there from the church I go to in Chora, although I'm not really sure what everyone was doing. On Thursday morning at 10, we heard more church bells and a few hours later the breeze carried the strains of Greek guitar. After lunch, Yong, Hugh and I went down to hear the music, sample some roasted goat, and raise a glass with the locals. What a resilient group! Here is a photo of Zora, an archeologist at another site, and one of the museum guards enjoying the music. It's possible that I got in on the Greek dancing.

In other news, my roommate Cindy departed yesterday. She was in the middle of buying an apartment in New York when she left and had to go home to sort out the details. Real estate in New York is never easy, I suppose! I'll miss her. She was nice enough to lend me another dress. Maybe this one will fit!

Finally, I am very happy in Samothrace and do not really miss home too much -- but today is the Simpson's premiere! And you can buy Simpson's themed foods in select convenience stores in the DC area made to look like a Kwik-E-Mart! This is one element of pop culture I am sad to miss. Any reviews or news on the movie would be welcomed!

Last weekend

It occurs to me that I have not made you all jealous about last weekend. I would like to make everyone jealous today, myself included, because I am on my 9th day of data entry in a sticky 90 degree office with bugs -- fabulous beach pictures will help me remember the many benefits of working in Greece this summer.

So here's a photo of the crystal clear water. Here is a photo of Chipos, a pebbly beach that is just beautiful. We spent the day in the shade of a rocky outcrop. You can swim around the side of this cliff and find little covces and a private beach. So beautiful!

And here is a photo of Ryan being SO lazy that he needs to drink his beer out of a straw, so as not to strain his neck. Genevieve and Amy are laughing at him. Actually, all of us are.

Back to data entry!

Goat day at last!

So, GOATS! Here are my encounters with dozens of goats on Sunday alone. Goats are a regular feature of Samothracian life. You can hear their bells on the breeze at night and in the morning. 81.8% of the dig team enjoys this sound – the other 19.2% say it disturbs their sleep. I am actually listening to a bleating goat while I type this – appropriate, because 45.4% of the dig team enjoys eating goat. Here are some photos – the goats waiting by our porch on Sunday. They are near our rental car – you can’t park your car under the trees here, because goats will climb up on in to eat the leaves from the trees. They actually sit in the branches (take THAT, Kevin Owen! Goats can fall from trees! Maybe not camels….) Cindy bought a goat bell as a souvenir before brunch. Then we saw goats at the beach, politely crossing in front of a goat-crossing sign. We also got a shot of a goat from the car – looks like he’s moving fast!

I did not take a photo of the goat roast we have for dinner every Sunday.

In other goat news – my first week, I ran at dawn most days. One morning, a baby goat paced me for half a kilometer! There may be more goats than people here. Last week, I saw an actual shepherd using a crook to put the goats in a pen. Wow. You can buy said crooks near my church.

I’d love your addition to the goat statistics – charming or noisy? Cute or tasty?

Tragedy Strikes Samothrace

I know I promised you goats today. I did take a lot of goat photos and collected interesting facts on the Samothracian goat. However, that will have to wait until tomorrow.

At about 4AM this morning, the Church next to our hotel and worksite went up in flames. One of our dig-mates was up to get a glass of water, saw the flames, and had the hotel manager, Evangelia, call the fire department. The inside of the church is completely destroyed. We smelled the smoke during the night, but I thought it was our mosquito coil and went back to sleep. We are very lucky that it wasn’t the usual windy Samothracian weather, or our hotel would surely have burned.

The smell of smoke is hanging in the air even now, 12 hours later. The wind also carries the cries of sobbing of women just hearing the news or visiting the church. It is a small chapel, only used for private devotion or the annual patron saint’s festival. They had just whitewashed it for the saint’s day, coming up on Thursday.

We all hoped it was an accident, but the main church in the port town was burned this morning at 8 AM. What senseless destruction.