The Answer, my Friend, is Blowing in the Wind

The world is always looking out for us. I find it hard to believe in circumstance when I have narrowly missed life-threatening natural disasters at least four times.

Had I not traveled to Nepal in November and December 2014, perhaps I would have been there in April 2015 when three record-setting earthquakes shattered the country’s resources and killed over 4,000 people. Had I chosen to climb Mount Kinabalu, as planned, rather than travel to Brunei and fly to the Philippines, then perhaps there would have been 17, instead of 16, trekkers killed on the top of the summit during the earthquake that struck at the beginning of June. If I hadn’t been robbed in the Philippines, maybe I would have continued to camp on beaches in the Philippines and Indonesia, and maybe something much more traumatizing would have happened to me. After that experience, and the beginning of the rainy season, I booked my flight out of the Philippines early, and maybe, just maybe that would have put me on the wrong boat that day in June when cyclones hit and 32 people drowned. After all, I was on the same sea, traveling not too far away. If I stayed in Indonesia I would be coping through the massive forest fires that are currently ravishing the nation - particularly in Kalamatan – where seasonal field burning has become the latest nightmare.

I seem to float along like a feather carried by the wind. Although I don’t know where I am going, the wind does. It takes me high above all of the coral reefs, over the volcanoes, through the fiords, and away I go. Carelessly free and floating on the back of this invisible force that seems to hold all harm at bay.

No Excuses, No Complaints, Just do it and Love it

“Judge not the speck in your brothers eye when you have a plank in your own.” For if you see a speck in your brother’s eye, than it is more likely that you have a plank in your own.

Sometimes I have plank eyes, and it keeps me from seeing the beauty in others. It keeps me from loving the beach, and the breeze, the smell of the rain, and the coffee seeds. It keeps me from seeing warmth in someone’s eyes, because all I smell is garbage and all I see are flies. The goal however, is to see everything as it is, everyone as they are, and love it all.

 Life is so much simpler while traveling. It's just as easy to look at something and see that it is ugly as it is to look at something and see that it is beautiful. 

I’ve learned a lot about what to expect in Southeast Asia – things I used to be uptight about, or need to control that I can understand now are not meant to be in my control. I am not meant to waste energy on caring about what functions as I think it should and what doesn't. In Southeast Asia, I expect everything to move more slowly. I expect to need to simplify my language and adapt to new languages – and never ever ever brush away someone just because we aren’t finding communicating easy. I expect to get what I need when I need it according to my plan, another plan, or some miraculous plan – all of my needs will be met. I expect the mini van to show up on the deserted road, for there to always be a ride whether I paid a $50, $2 or nothing at all. There is always food, a toilet and accommodation near. I expect detours and the unplanned plan – the plan that everyone who speaks the local language knows about and doesn't tell me. I expect beauty, and beauty finds me.

I’ve learned that this is an essential attitude in life, and travel. Love the goodness of the experiences, the adventure, the newness, the oldness, the faces, the colors, the smells, and savor the feeling of it all.

On several occasions I have been invited to travel with people I had just met, and in my mind I usually had apprehensions. Am I really going to agree to go with these people I don’t know, to a place I don’t know, and having intensely personal experiences without having any idea how they react to their environment or how we will travel together? Yep. Sometimes I didn’t join, because I knew I needed to take the time to do some things for myself. Other times, my heart screamed at me to “just say yes!” despite whatever apprehensions I was feeling.

Following intuition, and ignoring the ego that creates fear, doubt, and limitations can open up someone’s heart to new people, new experiences, and all of the in-between that most people say “I can’t” to, “I’m uncomfortable” with, or the experiences that people complain about. I’ve learned to stop and think about why “I can’t," why something, someone makes me feel “uncomfortable,” or what is in my head telling me to complain. More often than not, it has entirely to do with my feelings about myself, feelings about my capabilities, willingness to try new things, my adaptation to authentic experiences and people – and sometimes it’s instinct.

People tend to like their comfort zone – it’s comfortable. It’s when wanting “comfort” becomes an excuse that keeps from a new experience, that it is no longer about comfort at all – it’s about fear. The comfort level becomes a “no trespassing” zone. Most people don’t realize that saying “no” or wanting to stay in their “comfort zone” may be because of fear, and/or self-doubt. I think about Americans I know, and I can see how many live inside of their space and make excuses using words like “comfort” or “can’t” to stay in their space, or complain all along the way no matter how brilliant their lives are. They choose to watch through their window rather than go outside and join in. I can see how this is good for some people, but it is imperative for everyone to take a step back to determine if their decisions are being made out of doubt, or fear, and - if it is so - to go on doing exactly the opposite of what the fear says.

Overcome, heal, and face your own fears, especially the ones that have put limitations on life in seemingly insignificant ways - the ones that say you can’t climb that ladder, get to that appointment, make that jump, find that key, replace that flat tire, cook that meal, enjoy that day, attract that guy etc. You will see that cutting down the red tape around the “comfort zone” will add to who you are. Parts of yourself that you didn’t know existed, let alone were missing, will shine brightly and attract others like a moth to a flame. You will feel joy and love.

Things I do that I always said “no” to before, or thought within limits about, have now become second nature to me, to the point where I find it difficult to understand people who don’t embrace this freedom. The intellectual freedom that comes with knowing anything is possible brings an embracing love to oneself and to life.

That’s what makes leaving the comfort zone so crucial. That's what makes traveling so awesome! Constant new experiences help people to reflect on themselves, and when they do they will see that something can change, and life is always beautiful. 

I think that going anywhere alone brings more attention to the workings in the body and mind in this way. Traveling alone has given this gift to me. I notice the world more, I observe interactions deeply, I can recognize my feelings and reflect before responding. Moreover, I can see why feelings arise and what within myself may need healing or growth. I have all the time in the world and it is all mine. That doesn’t mean that there is no struggle. Some days I am battling off my internal complaints, and fighting away negativity, trying to allow myself the freedom to feel sadness and anger without permitting it to take over completely. Sometimes its hard for friends back home to understand that traveling is my life now, they are not interrupting me by being a part of it by staying connected. Its not a vacation that i need a break from everyone for. Lack of connections from home or other travelers can make traveling solo feel even more alone on some days. Other days I am full of joy for everything and everyone I come across. I am focused, calm, and able to let go of any and all need for control so that I embrace whatever finds me. On those days good people and adventures always find me. 100% guarenteed.

Releasing the “no” and cutting down the caution tape around my comfort zone has been an enormous release. I can see a giant spider in my room, and instead of jumping on my bed and yelling for someone to come kill it, I take a closer look and tell it how beautiful it is – and ask it nicely to leave my room. It’s silly, and I laugh at myself, but then the spider always does leave my room.

I've grown so that all I expect is love, and goodness. I don’t expect people to think, live, or love the same as I do either. When I come across people who don’t behave lovingly, I can see that maybe they are not at the stage of thinking where loving others and themselves is something they can fully comprehend – so I can love them for where they are and be happy that they are on their own journey. Love is conceptual, so that everyone knows what it is and that it is good, however learning how to love takes time.

 Just as showing love to myself, can change the way others show love to me. I encourage you to look within yourself and beyond yourself. Get rid of the “no” and think about the reason for it, don’t allow fear, doubt, or imaginary limits, to rule you. Don’t judge, lest you become the judgment you have made, and that includes judging yourself and creating limitations. Explore! Go on adventures! Makes lists of things you’ve never done but always wanted, lists of ways you want to be treated, lists of things you are afraid of - and then what you do is you DO the things you wanted, HUG your fears, and SURROUND YOURSELF with what makes you feel good. And you do it all by loving. Then watch in awe while your world is rocked.

Even if you don't travel, you can still open yourself up in the same way. Anyone can have the heart of a traveler. 

Namaste to Laos and Cambodia

Today, my spontaneous trip through Cambodia and Laos is soon coming to an end before entering Thailand. Although these countries, underdeveloped that they are, maintain some of the highlights of natural beauty and experiences in my journey through Southeast Asia, it’s not the countries themselves that have made this month so uplifting for me.

I was recently asked by a good friend of mine; “who has awed you the most on your journey so far?”

Without a doubt, it is the people I have traveled through Cambodia, and Laos with. Stephanie and Sarah, my Swiss-French travel mates, and Anna my Swedish soul sister who I traveled with months ago in Nepal. The miracles of the Universe have given me three enormous gifts by bringing these people to me. I truly believe in the power and beauty of the dawn. In our darkest moments, we must remember that the light always comes back. Today, right now, I am reaching my light after a dark and stormy month. At the end of my time in Vietnam I contracted a parasite, which caused several health problems for me while in Cambodia, and required me to go to the doctor 4 times (and the pharmacy at least 7 times) to get some kind of answers about what was going on in my body. Even at the international clinics, I was not receiving the appropriate attention and care that I needed. I was afraid of what was going on my body, and the information I was reading online was definitely not helpful. Looking up doctor information online is probably the worst idea someone could have. I type in cold and flu symptoms, result: maybe it’s a cold or flu, but probably cancer or death. I type in something about a sun rash, result: maybe it’s a rash, but probably HIV, cancer, or death. I type in fainting symptoms, result: maybe you were dehydrated, but it’s probably diabetes, HIV, or cancer. The lesson I learned: DO NOT type in “urethral worms” on a google search engine. Not unless you are completely removed from any possible parasitic situation and have a strong stomach. So… of course, I did this already, and that’s how I learned this lesson.

I would call this last month my darkest moment, and these women, my dawn.

I met Steph and Sarah in Nha Trang, Vietnam and after only a couple of days of getting to know them they asked me if I wanted to join them going through Cambodia, and possibly Laos. In my head, I was hesitant to commit to traveling with people I had barely known even though we were going the same route out of Vietnam and through Cambodia. However, in my heart I could feel the glow of their spirits and how being with them would mean being surrounded by goodness. Thankfully, I trust my heart more than my head.

Together we traveled to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, where we experienced the deeply moving history of the Khmer regime. I walked through the S21 museum, and the killing fields, where oppression, torture, and mass graves were up-kept in memorial of the thousands of people who were killed in a time not so long ago. I met veterans of this time, and was touched by countless torture stories. I explored the Russian market, and walked along the waterfront. The hostel we stayed at was very nice, with a pool, so whether I was in the city meeting tuk-tuk drivers, or at the hostel relaxing by the pool – I really enjoyed Phnom Penh. I learned about the local night-life, how marijuana is an essential every day thing even though it is illegal, how bars make “happy” pizza and shakes, sell laughing gas balloons, and the occasional MDMA or marijuana shot. It was fascinating to learn about how these places and things could possibly exist in such a corrupt country. Particularly since I had met half a dozen people who told me stories about being arrested, going to jail or paying ridiculous bribes, if they were caught even remotely related to these substances.

The museums and nightlife are considered essentials for anyone briefly passing through Phnom Penh. But still, I enjoyed the market and the pool above all else. I am very lazy sometimes.

After a few days, the Swiss chicks and I traveled to an island in the south called Koh Rong - a backpackers’ paradise. The island consisted of 24 different beaches, including my favorite – Long Beach, where the sand squeaked like new shoes under my feet and the sunset fell perfectly down in front of me. There were no roads, no need for shoes really. There were no tuk-tuks on the island. To get around you hop on a water buffalo, rent a boat, or you walk along the sandy beach path to the next place. On one particular day we took a tour with a boatload of French people, and got to snorkel, sunbathe, and even swim with the plankton that looked like underwater green glowing air bubbles in the night. After a few days on the island, symptoms of the parasites became more prominent and I knew that being on an island with no roads or doctors was not best for me. I left the girls to return to Phnom Penh so that I could see a doctor. It was a difficult, yet intuitive, decision for me to make.

From Phnom Penh, I finally made it to Siem Reap, to the Angkor Wat temples I heard so much about. The sunset there was divine. In Siem Reap, I saw a spectacular parade for Chinese New Year, spent a day on the Mekong River/Lake experiencing life in the floating villages there, and eating delicious and healthy street food.  It felt good to be healthy, (despite the dusty pollution). The most amazing feeling about Siem Reap, was when my soul sister Anna, whom I traveled and trekked with in Nepal, reunited with me to spontaneously travel with me and the Swiss girls from Cambodia to Laos. When Sarah and Steph rejoined us in Siem Reap (along with some other absolutely fantastic friends I made in Vietnam) my resting time was over and the next adventure began. 

Throughout all of this my health was less-than normal. I was concerned, taking all kinds of medicines, trying anything and everything the doctors suggested no matter how ridiculously rude or under-qualified they appeared to be.  I meditated a lot, and focused on healing myself from any of the fears I had about being sick. However, trusting in what is good and perfect to happen is probably the hardest spiritual thing to do. Having blind faith is enormously difficult.

These girls, who I am still traveling with, and still in complete awe of, helped me get through this time. Not only was I able to focus on enjoying the time I was having with them, they also lovingly gave me the support that I needed. I had prayed for God to surround me with good people, positivity and love – and that’s when I met Anna. Before I met Sarah and Steph, I prayed for people who had a deep mutual love, who I could feel safe and at home with. My prayers have been answered a thousand-fold by sending these ladies into my life.

Each of these women have touched my soul in different ways, and more deeply than I could have asked for, or imagined happening when I first began my journey. I am on a solo adventure. I am encountering people every day, of all kinds, learning new things from them, about myself. I have learned the kind of people that are not good for my soul, the kind of people that are perfect for temporary adventures, and the kind of people who enrich me and make me thirst for more love and goodness.

You can learn a lot about a person by how they travel. Whether they complain or not, what kinds of questions they ask people, how they speak to locals, whether they use manners or not, what kinds of activities they are drawn to during the day and the evening – all of these things and more.

When we arrived in Laos we spent some time on 4,000 Islands in Don Det exploring the beaches, and daytime life. It was really fun for me to take in the hippy-atmosphere. The no shoes, no shirt life - just like in Koh Rong, Cambodia. The most beautiful thing about Laos - aside from the authentic beauty, life on the Mekong River, and the tremendous mountainous views throughout the hill-country – the most beautiful thing has been the sunsets. Every night, a bright orange ball descends behind the mountains, or the jungle horizon, and every night I look at it and I am in complete awe of my life and the perfect circumstances that have brought me here. I am among good and loving people every day. Not just that, not just friends that are fun and make me feel good, but spirits who shine and provoke a powerful movement in my heart so that my phoenix wings expand and my soul is soaring. I am in Laos, on the side of the world I (ignorantly) never even thought I wanted to visit, in a country that I never planned to set foot in even after making my way to Asia. I am sitting on a deserted sandy beach watching the big orange ball descend and looking at the wavy mirror reflection of light that seems infinite. I am sitting on my hostel balcony watching the colors of the sky change as orange and yellow shine behind layers of jagged mountainous shadows. I am lying on a raft in the river watching the trees change color, the mosquitos come out, and feeling the air slowly cool.  With tears in my eyes I am filled with the spirit, overjoyed, and bursting with gratitude. I look next to me, and I have these absolutely astounding girls, who have changed my life just by my knowing them, and there is nothing more perfect.

I can’t speak very much about Cambodia, because I was sick and spent much of my time there resting. However, I can say that Laos I am in awe of. The natural beauty of the country, the warmth of the people, and the encounters I’ve had with locals, have truly made me fall in love with this place. All I can say to Laos, Cambodia, to Steph, Sarah, and Anna, is Namaste. I see and bless the God in you, and I thank you for sharing your beauty and the beauty of the world with me.

Peace on you.

Let Go and Miracles Follow

I believe that there are signs from God, and miracles every day. Some stand-out in my mind because I feel their significance in the moment. One of the most challenging things in my journey has been to let go of my need to control, ask questions, get answers, move forward in my time and my motion. The flow is Gods flow, and the hardest part is not only not having any say or control in the matter, but also not having any idea where the flow goes. I just have to blindly trust that the flow goes to goodness and it will be perfect for me. Holy crap what a hard kind of trust to have in a belief. Blind faith, is what its called. Not because faith is blind, but because people who have blind faith can walk with their eyes closed and know that no matter how rocky it is they will never trip. Sure-ism. That's what blind faith is, and its way more powerful than optimism. Imagine that. I'm not optimistic that everything has goodness, that love is the most powerful thing in the world, that I can get exactly what I want and need in this life just by being a good and loving person. No... I'm not optimistic, I'm sure. I have 100% faith in it. Nothing is impossible, but sometimes it feels impossible to keep the eyes on the prize, on the possible end result, on the Glory, and the dawn. To slowly, but surely, lock my eyes closed and walk forward with confidence in my feet and a smile on my face.

The other day I was in Nha Trang, VietNam. It's a great island and beach town, and I meant to take full advantage of it to rest, restore, and swim. While there I had spoken with some people in passing, and the vibe was really negative. They said something about me losing my camera or having it stolen, and I said how terrible that would be since it has all of my 3,000 photo and video memories from the last 6 months. For some reason, that thought of losing my camera and how terrible it would be remained distantly in the back of my head. I brushed off the feeling this conversation gave me and I moved on.

I always recognize when I say that something is horrible or terrible, and I always try to eliminate those words from my language. I remember, God says "Did you say terrible? You haven't seen anything yet!" Just the same as he says "Amazing? You haven't seen anything yet!"

Wording things positively, no matter how "unrealistic" people might call me, is my main goal. You can blow all of your notions of "unrealism" out of your mind. That is what makes you, you, and me, me. I know there is no such thing as "realism" or "unrealism" or being either of those things. Realism is a cloaked dagger to the heart of positive thinking. I tell myself, no matter what your reasoning mind might say, have faith in God, and believe blindly in His goodness. Now everything is beautiful and perfect. Realism can go find someone else to bother. My thinking is that, I can be realistic all I want, but as soon as being realistic conflicts with being positive, thats when I know that reason is steering me wrong.

Not but a few days after this brief and negative encounter, some Dutch friends I made and I took a boat tour called the Funky Monkey tour. Complete with hysterical live music, suntanning, island beach, snorkeling, beer, and a buffet seafood lunch. All for $10. Perfect day. The sun was the strongest it had been, and I was loving every second of it. When it came time to go snorkeling, I grabbed my trusty waterproof camera, wrapped the cord around my wrist and jumped in the water with the other girls. We swam away from the boat, adapting to the rush of cold turning to warm, while the guys working on the boat threw us all life rings so we could float around if we wanted. I didn't want one because I prefer to swim, but I caught it and was wrapping it around my arm when I noticed that the camera attached to the cord on my wrist was gone. The durable cord I had used for 6 months on land, sea, air, and all kinds of adventure travel, had snapped in the ocean.

Oh. My. God. This can't be real. My world travel adventure alone, where all I have are my memories, what I take with me, and no way to share with anyone else, and all of those things I might have forgotten but captured anyway. All of the videos of dancing with strangers, speeches from tour guides, and weird cultural experiences. All gone. No longer tangible. This can't be real.

I looked around in the water with a horrified urgency on my face and in my movement. The water was not clear. It was 10ft deep and I could swim to the bottom, but because I couldn't see in front of me my lungs panicked at the possibility of not resurfacing, and I couldn't swim too deep because of it. I lost it. I lost it. It's gone.

I told the guy on the boat, and asked him to help me look for it. I don't give up without a fight. There were scuba divers present because some people paid extra for it. I asked the tour guide if a scuba diver could look for it. He said yes, but that if they find the camera I have to pay them. If you find it, I will give you everything in my wallet I will be so happy. It will be better than paying for a new camera! And those photos and videos are literally priceless to me.

It took 10 minutes for the diver to be ready, and I felt myself asking, is he coming, is he coming, we only have 45 minutes here. I had a foot tapping, impatient sense of urgency.

Eventually the diver was ready and I pointed him in the direction I was swimming. There was no current at the time, aside from surface boats, so I had hope he would find it. My heart was entirely engulfed in the camera, I was trying to control the situation, the panic, the finding of it. I was trying to make it happen. I was like a neurotic mom with five kids at Disney World. "Okay now everyone form a single file line, hold hands! and don't make any faces in the picture."
Oh yeah, pictures. Pictures I won't be able to take wit my waterproof camera that won't be able to go under water anymore.
I took hold of myself when I realized what danger my actions and words were ensuing because of my effort to force the situation. I have to let go of this, it's not the end of the world, what is meant to happen will happen. After this thought, one of the girls I traveled with came up to me and said something about, oh poor me, I hope they find it.

It's the fucking ocean. I've been on the ocean my whole life. Lost thousands of things, found none of them.

I ignored the negativity, I knew that I had to reverse what I had said and done to force my will onto this situation. I think he'll find it. It's easy to look for things with scuba gear, theres no current, and it's only 10 ft deep. I'd find it myself if I had scuba gear but they said that I'd have to pay for it. I'm not worried. I'm actually pretty sure they'll find it. All of the factors say yes. Surism is stronger than optimism.

I kept saying stuff like that to myself. 20 minutes passed, and no such luck. The diver went down before I could describe the camera or the location. The diver was circling the whole area, but not where I told him to. All of these factors - I want to fix this. I need to talk to him but he's below the water. I can't do anything. I have to just sit. I realized that what I needed to do was swim. Release the stress and literally remove myself from the situation and let go of my control and my need. I was on a tour, and I love to swim, I shouldn't waist this time worrying and not enjoying. It's out of my hands. Exploring the water while I wait couldn't hurt anything.

I swam far and fast until the boat was distant from my sight and I was almost to shore where the reef could be see from a surface level. I was thinking the whole time, its not the end of the world. I said a prayer out loud if I am meant to have it then it will come back to me, if I am not meant to have it then I don't want it. God returns to me what is mine or replaces it with something better. I said this over and over. Until finally I was used to the idea. I could get a new camera. I can let go of these photos and videos. I have my memory. I have other pictures and things that I've kept. I have my diary, my heart, and my experiences. It's okay. What's meant to happen will happen. Que sera sera.

I looked down in my breast stroke and saw the ocean bottom. I saw that it was jagged and rocky, and it occurred to me, the diver was looking all around the area as if there was a current, but there is no current and the bottom is rocky. My camera is there. He'll find it. I became sure of it. Absolute blind faith. I have no room for doubt because the time for hope is now, and the time for mourning is later or never. Now determines that. Suddenly I had a really strange feeling that might sound a little crazy. I felt like a shark was swimming up to me. I was alone and my bodily reflex jerked around to look into the water. Nothing. I knew there was no shark but I felt like I was being chased, I felt like I had to get out of there and swim back to the boat. 

I returned to the boat just as a new diver was going in to look for my camera. The first diver was tired and didn't find anything. I pointed directly where I landed in the water and said right there. Then I watched the diver go under, because I thought it looked cool and I wanted to see if I could remotely see the bottom. I had no concerns. I had hope, but not grasping onto to it. I was just hanging out and enjoying the day. That's when it happened. ARISEEEEEEEEE SCUBAAA SAINT!! Through the foggy water I saw a flash of the bright orange from my camera and up rises the scuba diver having rescued it from the rocky depths. 

Holy crap! This is a miracle! This is a miracle! I took the camera and thanked them. I wanted to hug them or kiss them but both of the scuba divers disappeared to undress from their swim gear. After I established that the camera still worked just fine (after 30 minutes under water!!), I put it away and the tour guide told me what I had to pay. Something like 500,000VND At least 5 days of food for me. But I remembered what I said and I said it several times. I told the tour guide I wanted to thank the divers. They came and found me, and when they did I emptied my wallet without counting it. I complain too much about money. I'm too desperate for it to maintain my appropriate budget, to complete this journey in the time and manner I want. This was one of many lessons God was giving me. To let go. To trust that I will be provided for. To not give power to money, or my plan - the power is completely in the hands of God. Let go and let God, that's what that is. Let go of my own plan for life, and let God do His work. I can just sit back and be in awe of the miracles that occur and the goodness that finds me.

Absolutely perfect day.

Greek Hospitality Part Dyo (2)

There is something about coming to Greece that feels like home to me. The three main draws are; the warm loving people, the grandparents (which essentially define Greek hospitality), and of course the church – whether I attend or not, I always feel at home surrounded by the old Byzantine.

My dad and I traveled together from Morocco, to Malta, to Thessaloniki Greece. We unite on our love and yearning for understanding of spirituality and the Orthodox Church, so we both arrived in a state of excitement and homeliness. 

To understand the preface to my second visit in Greece this year, we’ll travel back to the 1980s with our mustaches and mullets and take a peak into the life of my dad. Back in the 1980s, when, my dad was studying at Hellenic College, he became friends with his neighbor in the dormitory. The friend’s name was Billy Bakos. They were fast friends, and partners in crime for life. Billy served as my dad’s best man at my parents’ wedding, which, in Greek Orthodox tradition, makes him an honorary member of the family and grants the Greek title of Koumbaro between he and my family. It’s an important title for Greeks, like the importance of godparents in some cultures. Since that wedding, Mr. Bakos traveled to a place called The Holy Mountain, also called Agio Oros in Greek.  The Holy Mountain is an island peninsula in the region of Helkidiki, an hour and a half outside of the northern capital city of Thessaloniki in Greece. The island is home to 22 different Orthodox Christian monasteries where thousands of monks live, and where pilgrims come from all over the world. I have never been since women are not allowed on The Mountain for a few different reasons, which I understand and appreciate. I want my own island anyway. When Billy Bakos traveled to the Holy Mountain for the second time in his life, he moved there and became a novice for three or four years before being tonctured (blessed as) a monk.  From then on, we would all reverently call him Father Iakovos - he is even featured on a 60 Minutes documentary discussing the Holy Mountain, if you are interested in learning more.

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/mt-athos-a-visit-to-the-holy-mountain/

Fast forward: Father Iakovos has been a monk at the monastery of Simonopetra, on the Holy Mountain, since before I was born. Over the years he maintained a connection with my family and during the last couple of years the Greek Orthodox Metropolis of Boston had the blessing of hosting Fr. Iakovos for a whole year in an effort to start a monastery in New England. A whole community of children, and families came together loving him and welcoming him, and now I am one of thousands of his spiritual children in America. He really has touched so many lives, and I feel blessed to have any relationship to him. Since he left to return to the Holy Mountain, I have missed him a great deal, and have always found his presence to be grounding for me.

The monks of the Holy Mountain are under the obedience of their spiritual leader called the Abbot, or Yeronda in Greek – just the same as priests are under the obedience of their bishop. Monks, and nuns as well, must have the permission of the Abbot to travel - or to move somewhere else - and they may be denied permission according to where the Abbot sees their services needed. It was by the Grace of God that the Abbot at Simonopetra needed to send a priest to their church in Thessaloniki, and it just so happened that Fr. Iakovos was the man that he sent.

Now to the present: Several people greeted my dad and I when we arrived in Thessaloniki – Niko & Tina (a couple whom I met in 2006), Maria and Dimitri (friends of Father Iakovos), and, of course, our beloved Father Iakovos. They all took us out to dinner the way that Greek family members welcome their out-of-town relatives – a trapezi.

The three musketeers! Fr. Iakovos, my dad, and Niko (left to right)

The following couple of days Fr. Iakovos and Niko and Tina traveled with us to revisit the convent of Orymilia where I created strong connections during my first visit to Greece in 2006 The nuns made for us a lunch that was finer than any restaurant, and the heartfelt warmth and welcomnig made me feel right at home. My old friend, Sister Prosdoki, was able to visit with me for a brief period, holding my hand and catching up with one another. Just like the first time, I wished that our visit had lasted forever!

I also had the distinct honor of meeting His Eminence Metropolitan Barnabas of Neapoli and Stavropolio. My dad is friendly with Metropolitan Barnabas, and so we were able to have two short visits with him while we were in Greece. During the first visit, I couldn’t understand the conversation between my dad, Father Iakovos, and His Eminence Barnabas, because it was all in Greek. But, I felt all of the emotions in the room. I was so moved by the warmth, the way that His Eminence was teaching through his example, and the amount of love in the room, that I was moved to tears during most of the visit. Rather than made to feel embarrassed by my tears, my expression of emotion was communication enough for Hi Eminence and we instantly connected without words. Father Iakovos simply told His Eminence that I was moved by the loving kindness of his nature. During our second visit I was far better composed and was able to communicate my feelings about love and God with the help of some translation. When my dad and I made our final goodbye before flying to Turkey, Metropolitan Barnabas hugged and kissed me, and sent me tons of blessings.

Its an amazing thing, meeting people like Sister Prosdoki, Father Iakovos, Metropolitan Barnabas, or my friend Maria who I visited later in the week. Kind people simply emanate warmth. It can’t be described as anything other than love, goodness, the Holy Spirit. I can feel the spirit full in them, it overflows, and it washes over me so that I feel filled as well.

His Eminence Barnabas and me

After some guy-time with Father Iakovos, and my dad, the men headed off to the Holy Mountain and I was left alone in Thessaloniki for four days. I absolutely loved it! I had the fantastic opportunity to spend time with my buddy Maria who I met when I studied abroad in Spain two years ago, and I also became better acquainted with some Greek American boys who came from Hellenic College in Boston to study abroad in Thessaloniki.

Greek hospitality truly is a bottomless pit of abundance, and in that way it emulates the spirit of love.

I cannot even count the hours on hours of time spent sitting around with my friends, and their friends, drinking tsiporo (Greek moonshine), and laughing together. I learned a lot of Greek, and communication was never a problem, even with Maria’s friends who didn’t speak English. Every time I went out with Maria, or the Greek Americans from the University, everyone insisted on paying for me. Being the out-of-towner, Greek hospitality designates that my local friends have a responsibility to show me a good time, make me happy, and not let me spend a cent. Of course, I don’t take advantage of that by any means, but the Greeks are just the gift that keeps on giving.

I even had the honor of going outside of Thessaloniki to visit Maria’s grandparents in their village, and see the local dance group perform original Greek dances from the region. Yiayia even played along with me when I asked her to read my fortune in my cup after drinking Greek coffee. She and I agreed that we don’t take fortune telling from coffee cups too seriously, but it was interesting to learn from her. I felt like I was welcomed like a long lost relative. I could have lived there and hiked the nearby mountains for days if I had more time. If there is anything Greek, it’s impossible for me to feel out of place.

My time in Greece was perfectly timed, and I didn’t spend more than a half of a day doing anything touristic. I enjoyed parea (companionship) with friends, tons of food, heart-to-hearts, and beautiful people. There is nothing better than going where your people are. My people are definitely Greek. There have been a few other times on my journey where I have felt ‘among my people’ like in Munich, and all over Ireland. (Coincidentally, I am a small part German, and Irish.)

But, so far in my journey, no one does it quite likes the Greeks do. Yasas!