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 There is always a lot of bitching going on about living on this island. By the natives themselves, but just as much by all of Crete’s new inhabitants – the Homo sapiens Immigrantus. This species has landed in what they believe to be Paradise Lost. Everything about Crete is heavenly…..for the first few years. When reality kicks in it becomes the worst place on earth, everything back home being so much better.
Agreed, there is a lot wrong, or not arranged very well, on this island. For instance the unbelievable bureaucracy that often makes you think most government clerks don’t have a clue about what they’re doing. As a simple citizen you are always one official paper/signature/stamp short of getting anything done. Simply standing in line for hours at the wrong window becomes a habit. Traffic is a playground for Mel Gibson surrogates pretending their vehicles are Lethal Weapon 72, 73, 74…..The sewer system makes sure we never forget what we had for dinner yesterday and the day before and the day before that. If you’re in luck you can, when the poop truck comes around you, even see – and smell – what the rest of the neighbourhood had the past few weeks.
But lets be honest, isn’t there something wrong in every country? Didn’t we all have very good reasons to leave our homeland behind? Is the Immigrantus not concentratingus too muchus on the negativus???
Recently, a daring entrepreneur passed me by on his scooter. His assistant sat on the back holding their BBQ, the most important tool of their enterprise, which consists of roasting ready- to-go souvlakis on street corners. A bone chilling scream made the driver hit the brakes. A quick look at his assistant showed immediate action was eminent. The BBQ had caught fire and was slowly roasting a different kind of souvlaki. The problem was solved quickly by dumping the flaming coal on the side of the road. They hopped back on the company vehicle and drove off, business as usual. Where else would you see that?
A group of tourists on safari encountered a road block up in the hills where county officials dug a big hole on their path. The jeeps couldn’t go back or forth, so their guide spoke to the foreman a bit. After a few minutes a 20 euro note changed hands and two diligent men shovelled the dirt back in the hole. The tour could continue without delay. Where else would you hear that?
Last week we went through our bed. Young love, old bed, you get the point. A lovely new set with a sturdy mattress was quickly found, but needed to be transported. To have it delivered would take a few days. As you can imagine we wanted our bed fast, like yesterday. So we shoved the parcels in the car and were left with this huge mattress. The rope we had just bought came in handy as we tied the mattress to the car-roof. The doors couldn’t open anymore so we climbed in through the windows and made our way home, slowly. The police-car tailing us almost the whole way seemed to ignore the situation or maybe decided to give us an escort. Who knows…..but where else would you do that?
Any problem we encounter here is solvable, everything that is broken can be fixed – even if you have to do a patenda. That’s why we love this island and everyone on it.
Only on Crete, man.
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