From Santorini




This weekend I realized that people almost never speak to me on the street anymore. At first I wondered why this was, and then I realized. I am no longer open. The men who whistle do not have hope in their eyes, it is just a reflex. The people in shops know that I am not looking for gifts to bring home. I am no longer a foreigner here, but neither am I a local. Hovering in between seems to be the place where I am bound to end up almost wherever I go, and it is a place that I am growing to be comfortable in. Neither an insider nor an outsider, and as places in a society go, I suppose that this is a pretty good place to be.

In the past week, I have begun to leave Greece. I have just over one month left, and I have noticeably started to slow. I can feel myself taking stock and checking out. I have been begun retuning borrowed items to friends who generously lent me this and that, and I catch myself looking down streets lovingly, as if this were the last time I would see them. It is strange bracing yourself for another big move, especially because I am still not sure exactly were I will be going, whether option A or option B will take effect.

As I have spent the past seven months trying figuring out where I am and what I am doing, I am now thinking about how to exit this odd city gracefully. Leaving is never as easy as I would like, and not matter how I try, there will be untied strings at the end of my stay here. Many of my Greek friends here are astonished at the way that my life seems to be going; leaping sideways between places and families and friends. Happy or not, they are strongly rooted here, and they shake their heads when I tell them my plans. My African friends know this kind of life, and the shake-ups that always happen with movement. They smile knowingly when I say that I am going, and they ask if I can take them with. Back to America? Maybe. Sort of. What kind of answer is that? I suppose that everyone wants to find his or her perfect home and there are many of us who are learning to make our homes in the space inbetween.

So what is your favorite color - blue or white?




Images taken in stolen moments on Paros.

I am still trying to figure out exactly what my role is at Schedia.