To Flush it or Not ~ A New Normal

Shortly after arriving from the Pacific Northwest at our Stone House on the Hill last summer, our young houseguest took me aside. From the look on his face, I knew he had something serious on his mind.

'My mom told me we don't put the toilet paper in the toilet here.  We put it in the little bin by the toilet. Is that true??' he asked in a voice tinged with disbelief.

The Stone House on the Hill - Greek Peloponnese

'Very true,' I assured him. 'It is normal here to do that.' I went on with a lofty explanation of doing things differently when you travel to new places and how in many places in the world tissue is tossed, not flushed. My grandiose teaching moment was lost on him though: he was still processing the 'don't flush it' idea.

Lemons growing at our Stone House on the Hill

I concluded our talk by confessing that when I return to the States I sometimes have trouble remembering that paper is flushed. Tossing, not flushing, is my new normal.

Toilet etiquette is just one of the many things that we've had to learn to 'do differently' as ex pats living in Greece.  

  

Sunflower bouquet at our Pacific Northwest home

Normal is as Normal Does

It has been some 7.5 months since we have been anywhere outside Greece thanks to that longer-than-expected wait for residency permits which kept us 'in detention' there. We had a pretty intense dose of all-things-Greek. 

Manson, our U.S. home under last year's harvest moon

(Note to new readers: this fall marks two years since we took up full time residence in The Mani, a region in the Peloponnese where the famous Kalamata olive is grown. Last fall we replanted our U.S. roots by purchasing a home in a small town in eastern Washington State.)

Manson is surrounded by apple orchards and vineyards

Ten days ago we made our annual autumn trek back to the States. In the short time we've been here I've found myself bemused and sometimes frustrated at the number of times I've had to stop and think about what the name of something is in English or how to complete a task here. 

Case in point: At the hardware store I had a difficult time coming up with the name of what I needed to clean a paint brush.  In my mind I was looking for what we call in Greece, 'white spirit' . . .I told the clerk  'paint remover' and found myself with a lot of products designed to take paint off surfaces being repainted. Finally, we came up with it: 'paint thinner'! 

Some 40+ wineries now make this area their home as well

Also surprising is the number of things that we once did by rote that now seem so very 'different'. It just doesn't seem normal. Take for instance. . .

. . . filling the car with gasoline.  In Greece, the attendant directs you to the pump then pumps the gas and washes the windows for you. Takes your payment and brings you change, telling you to have a nice day as the transaction concludes.

Here you pull up to the pump of your choosing and insert a credit card at a machine in the bay and once it is accepted, you pump your gasoline, take your receipt and drive away. The only human contact you might have is if your card isn't accepted and you must go inside to see the clerk. It gave us pause the first couple of times we visited the gas station - we've been spoiled by Greek behaviors.

Lake Chelan remains the major attraction of this area

. . . or using that little plastic credit card. I am amazed at how many times we pull it out to pay for goods and services here. In our everyday life in Greece the only place we use the plastic is at the large supermarket on the highway between villages or when shopping in the city, Kalamata. Certainly not at the small shops and restaurants we frequent in the village.

Our surrounding countryside in Manson

. . .or those do-it-yourself checkouts at large supermarkets. If you are smart enough to check yourself out, you need not talk to any employee during your shopping experience. How impersonal is that?  As long as a human is there to check me out, I plan to have them do so.

Our route to Wenatchee - the largest city near us

. . .or the focus on privacy. Privacy is a big deal in the U.S. and I had forgotten what a big deal it was until I was discussing it with friends over lunch this week.  The two were talking about the security precautions they take to protect their identity -both on-line and in real life. They actually sell little ink things (not just marking pens) here to mark out your information before tossing printed matter! Then we talked about all the security steps to be taken in computer land.  It was --sorry, but this phrase works best --'all Greek to me'!

I told them about how we get our mail delivered to a café in the village.  Packages are delivered there, important documents as well I suspect.  You pretty much sort through and see everyone's mail -- and you pay it little mind. It isn't unusual to take a package addressed to a friend or neighbor to them. We don't think about theft - of mail itself or a person's identity.  There is something curiously refreshing about it.

Even the hotel in Manson welcomed us back last year

I've been reading up on repatriation, the term that describes expats returning to their home countries, to write this post.  And the experts warn that  'reverse culture shock' can be very real.  They say those who've worked in other countries may find themselves suffering from identity loss when they return home. 

Showing friends our new community

Individuals may struggle with reestablishing friendships as interests and activities and life focus has changed - not only for those returning but those who stayed behind.  Adapting to the new community you return to can be as difficult as adapting to the foreign one you just left.

They advise staying in touch with those back home so you are able to pick up where you left off. No problem there - we have a circle of friends who've stayed in touch regularly by phone, email and social media. 

It is harvest time in the Chelan/Manson area

Experts do suggest following 'back home' news media and social media to stay in touch with changes occurring there. Again, no problem there thanks to our various subscriptions, Facebook, Instagram, Messenger and others.

Re-patriots can experience stress, depression, social anxiety and disenchantment. Many articles say some re-patriots need counseling or support groups. Whoa! No need for that! 

Wine grapes, three weeks from harvest

However, in none of the articles I read, did they mention toilet etiquette. That apparently is one area of re-adjustment the experts haven't yet flushed out!

A toast to new 'normal'

On that note, I'll close for this time around with a wish for continued safe travels to you and yours. I'll be back with more tales from the expat travel world soon.  As always, thanks for the time you spend with us ~

Linking sometime with:

Through My Lens
Our World Tuesday
Wordless Wednesday

Ex Pat Life ~ A Mix of Madness and Mundane

'Life is either a daring adventure

or nothing at all.'

     -- Helen Keller

Okay, so I know I've been telling you that being an ex pat in Greece is one grand adventure. And in many ways living in the midst of Kalamata olive country in the southern Peloponnese is an adventure. It is most certainly a doorway to other travel adventures as well.

Yet, (I suspect many of our ex pat friends here would agree) in many ways day-to-day life could be more aptly described as being a mix of madness and mundane.

That seems a fitting way to begin a report on what's been happening at our home called, The Stone House on the Hill. While I often post updates on Facebook or Instagram, many of you who follow the blog, have asked, "What is happening at the house?' So looking back over the last six months, here's what we've been doing when not having grand adventures.

A Red Hot Welcome

Every other home on our street -- all four of them -- had some form of entry gate. Two black,one blue, one green. Except us.

Entry stairs at The Stone House on the Hill - before

We decided that such a gate at the top of the stairway leading from the road and our parking area to the house, would set off the entry.  Once decided, it took awhile to find a local 'metal man' who could build us one. Once we found him, his work load was such that he didn't get started on the project until January. (If I've not mentioned before, construction is booming in our area.)

I'd collected photos of the ornate types of gates we had in mind. He brought a catalog of more ideas. We agreed on a design, or so we thought.

What I thought we were getting and what we got

Somehow 'the ornate' part of the gate got left behind and we got a very mundane entry gate.

 . .that I will admit drove me a bit into a fit of madness (both anger and crazed) but then -- as with many things here -- it was time to put the madness aside and meet the challenge!

Finished gate with newly planted jasmine vine: Welcome!

The gate's builder said he'd left it plain because it would have detracted from the view. That does make sense. So we've framed the view with bright red and white paint and someday a jasmine vine will loop over its arbor.  I've come to love my little red gate.

On to the garden

I perhaps am smitten with my red gate because I had envisioned (at the same time we were talking about the ornate gate) having a small arbor built over our vegetable garden so that we can this year shade the plants from the cruel Mediterranean summer sun.

Arbor on Hydra Island

Last fall while exploring Hydra island with visiting houseguests of ours I'd spotted this charming tiny red arbor, pictured above. That was just what we needed.  Again, I showed the photo to the metal man who nodded his understanding. He took measurements.

All was good; o la kala, as we say here.

Our 'arbor'

I wasn't home when the construction began on this but arrived as the workmen were putting the finishing touches on 'the structure' that now dominates our side yard.  The Scout, being the taller of us, was tasked with painting it (we'd thought we were getting the small version so had told the builder we would paint it ourselves).

On the bright side, we don't worry about earthquakes any longer as this baby will hold the house up for sure.  We hope the bougainvillea will soon cover a good deal of it and a grape vine has been planted at the opposite end. . . I'll keep you posted on this one.

Yes, mundane tasks sometimes feel like sheer madness.

Do It Yourself  Madness

Not all the madness was caused by others. Sometimes we did it to ourselves by tackling a mundane task ourselves.  There was the stairway painting, for instance:

Our paint job of four years ago had faded and we were inspired by the bright white stairway in a hotel we'd stayed at last summer.  'Couldn't be that bad,' we told ourselves. 'A bit of sanding, a coat or two of paint.'  Let's just say it took several days to get the sanding and the painting to look like that we'd seen in the hotel. In the end we were pleased, but it did take a bit more talent than we'd expected it to require.

Once we had the stairs done, it was time to tackle the doors.  Stone houses built the time ours was, now 14 years ago, were decked out in pine. . .doors, windows, cupboards and cabinets.  While stone is easy to come by here, wood isn't.  The interior reminded us of the design of cabins built amidst, and from, pine forests in the Pacific Northwest.

The doors looked old. They looked dated.

And anyone can do a chalk paint wash, right?

We finally finished all six interior doors and their frames, but this is one of those projects that had us painting for days. . .it sounded so mundane but it became sheer madness.

Our most recent project was a joint effort - we helped do heavy lifting but turned the painting over to a professional.  We'd lived with the odd little closet/drawer/storage unit in the master bedroom -- another in natural pine -- for as long as we could stand it.  The top section was so high we never used it, so moved it to our storage room where it now stores the olive harvest equipment.

And as my father, a housepainter by profession, used to say, what a difference a coat of paint can make!  This project was sheer joy and it was madness that we didn't do it sooner!

Closet - before and after

So that ends our behind-the-scenes look at what's been happening at The Stone House on the Hill.  We've got painting projects coming up this spring but managed to squeeze in a bit of travel the last few weeks, including a luxurious long weekend in Athens. If you are planning a trip to Greece anytime soon, it would be a shame not to include Athens in your itinerary! I'll tell you a few reasons why next week.

Safe travels to you and yours and thanks always for the time you spend with us. Use the comments or send us an email to let us know what you've been up to ~

Linking with:

Through My Lens
Our World Tuesday
Wordless Wednesday

Too old for travel or expat life? 'No Way!', you say. . .

“The key to successful aging is to pay as little attention to it as possible.”
― Judith Regan

Wow! You do have some thoughts on 'boomer' lifestyle and travel!  Your response to my most recent post made that very clear. . .

Elders in Tripoli, Greece reading the news

In that post (The Night I Danced with the Barmaid and other tales.  . .)I wrote of the juxtaposition of  my experiences in dancing with a barmaid in a Greek taverna and falling over a suitcase at an airport with my first U. S. Medicare Wellness Exam. While neither of the falls I took had given me cause to think about ageing and health, the exam certainly did. 

I began pondering if 'a woman my age' (that phrase doctors start using when you turn 50) just might be getting too old for the adventures we have been having as full-time expats in Greece and avid world travelers.

Aging playground in the village of Trachila, Greece

Ending that post with the question, 'what do you boomer travelers and ex pats think about the impact of aging on your lifestyle. . .or do you think about aging?' we didn't expect such an outpouring of thoughts.

Boomers are ready for new vistas and discovery

For those getting Travelnwrite delivered as an email, you miss the richness of the comments that are added by readers to the blog post. If you respond to the email you receive, we are the only ones who see it. Those of you not on Facebook also miss the comments posted there. And for that reason, your most recent comments -- which deserved to be seen by more than the two of us --  prompted me to shelve my planned post on updates from The Stone House on the Hill and instead share a sampling of your thoughts on boomer travel and lifestyle choices.  And I've included links to the blogs written by many who left comments - I'd recommend them all!

Kalderimis - ancient Greek roads make excellent hiking paths

 Anita Oliver, co-creator of the blog No Particular Place to Go, a friend and fellow American ex-pat who lives in Portugal wrote:

We've talked in the past of common experiences we share but this post lands on the top of the list! I've tripped over chairs in restaurants, fallen off bikes and down stairs, skidded across gravel and rocks when walking and yes, sprawled over my own damn suitcase in front of crowds of people. 😁 All you can do is laugh and be thankful that nothing's broken. I couldn't agree more with your words, "... they've made me appreciate even more our decision to live differently; to dance, to travel, to climb stairs without handrails and to walk on uneven surfaces for as long as our old bodies and minds allow us to do so." How boring our lives would be if we didn't challenge ourselves to search for new experiences and adventures rather than play it safe

Boomers are ready to travel new roads

Philadelphia-based traveler Suzanne Fluhr, who authors the blog, Boomeresque wrote:

My Medicare card just arrived effective April 1, the month I turn that age. Is it cheating if I start memorizing those words before my Medicare Wellness Exam? I wish I could honestly say I travel with as much abandon as I did when I was younger although some people might think I'm still a little cray cray. However, with apologies to the country music singer whose name I can't remember ;) , I still dance like nobody's watching at every opportunity, especially if frozen mai tais are available.

Greek village of Stoupa at sunset

Fellow American ex pat in The Mani Linda Jackim Werlein, writer and one of the creators of Write Club The Podcast Group summarized her thoughts on aging and ex pat life:

I love living in Greece in large part because of the pace of life. We're not necessarily expected to show up on time (unless you're going to an affair hosted by other Americans), and the cashier doesn't panic if you don't have enough money with you ("Don't worry. Bring it later.") and nobody dresses up for much of anything. Everything is down to what's really important: Are you comfortable? Are you happy? Do you need help with anything? . . ..


Life here is good, people are friendly and generous, and the landscape is unspeakably beautiful. I'm 74, Hal is 81, and we wake up grateful every day for the privilege of living here. And hell no, we don't feel old!!

Springtime in The Man

From Viet Nam, Elena, slow-traveler and co-creator of Traveling Bytes blog writes:


I’d been slow traveling around the world for the past 7 years. I noticed that outside of the US, there is a very different perception of what “age” means. My host in Sicily was a tiny lady with boundless energy. Once, in a conversation, she mentioned that she was born a decade before Mussolini came to power. Ouch! I needed a break in the middle of hot summer days, but she didn’t. In rural Japan, during my morning runs along the river, I often saw a gentleman effortlessly (and tirelessly) running back and forth. As it transpired, he was training for an upcoming marathon. He mentioned that his wife joked that at 82 he would be the only entry in that age category. He was pleased that his tenacity and wise approach to training produced results that put him in an almost half-a-century younger bracket. I wonder if whoever put together questions for the “Wellness Visit,” ever saw stairs of homes in Amsterdam or knew that elevators are a rarity in many French buildings. In my yoga class, here in southern Vietnam, half of the participants would qualify for Medicare in the US. However, they do not get any different treatment than others and would be puzzled if somebody asked them about feeling unsteady while walking. Cheers!

“Maybe it's true that life begins at fifty. 

But everything else starts to wear out, fall out, 

or spread out.”

― Phyllis Diller 

Stairs without handrails are normal in this part of Greece

Goatdi who raises La Mancha goats and a few chickens on '42 acres of paradise at the most southern tip of the Cascade Mountain Range and who writes New Life on the Farm Last Chapter, said:

When the folks who run the rules and regs at Medicare volunteer to help me haul and stack a load of alfalfa bales for my dairy goats (125# per bale ) we will talk. 

Mani in the Springtime

Forest Ranger Gaelyn who writes Geo Gypsy Traveler travel blog from various locations in America's Southwest replied:

I just got signed up for Medicare and haven't taken that test. Please don't ask me to stop dancing, sauntering and traveling. Who is that wrinkled Ranger in my mirror? I will do what I do until I am unable.

A springtime sunset over Messinian Bay

An email from long-time reader, Sue C., who is a tireless 'can do' volunteer with whom I've worked in civic and political efforts in the Seattle suburb where we used to live, provided more food for thought:

I just got an email that said "How old would you feel if you didn't know your birthday? ".  Food for thought.  Luckily I sure don't feel 77!  I can even do stairs without railings!

Greece and olive groves - timeless

Cindy Carlsson, fellow travel enthusiast and author of Exploration Vacation blog, responded:


I'm younger, but my spouse passed the Medicare milestone the other year and, of course, my mother deals with these questions all the time and that nagging fear "am I too old to do this?" For many people 65 is simply not old anymore and we shouldn't be rushed to stop living our lives because "something might happen." Something could happen to anyone at anytime - especially if you are klutzy like I am. I love that you've decided to live life on your terms and not society's expectations and I try to do the same. I just hope that when they do the memory test they don't ask me what day of the week it is, because I never have a clue - why would I need to know if I'm not living every moment on someone else's schedule?! Keep those dancing shoes handy just in case!

Spring wild flowers carpet olive groves in The Mani

From Israel, Dina, author of Jerusalem Hills Daily Photo blog, observed:

I think the best way for us not to get old is to hang on to our sense of humor. :) 

Taygetos Mountains frame The Mani

Tom Bartel, who along with his wife, Kristin Henning, created Travel Past 50 blog, wrote during their current travels in Cambodia:

And yes, I too, passed the memory test. At least I think I did. I can't remember. We're in Cambodia right now and I haven't so much as seen a hand rail yet. However, we do also have rugs on hardwood floors at home, and we measured them and got thin rubber pads non slip pads for them. Cheap insurance. At least cheaper than Medicare.

A toast to boomers everywhere!

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, 

the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. 

When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”

― Sophia Loren 

Our sincere thanks to all of you who take the time read our blog and share your thoughts in return. The richness of the discussion is what makes the blogosphere so interesting!  We wish you safe and happy travels.  Carpe Diem and hope to see you back again soon - bring some friends with you!


Linking with:

Through My Lens
Our World Tuesday
Wordless Wednesday