greek living, and aging up
We’ve just left Krania, my little village oasis in the northern Greek mountains. A peaceful and quiet place, most businesses have died off except for the restaurant in the centre that most people just hang around nursing beers at.
My trip so far has been mostly spent at monestaries, churches, and other religious pockets, despite not being very religious myself. I love Greek Orthodoxy simply for embracing the traditions, the lighting of the candles, the ringing of the town bells.
I turned 18 a few days ago, and I think I’ll still be called a kid by everyone in town until I retire.
This visit felt almost like a right of passage to me, turning into an adult, and visiting for the first time since I lost my grandma, this being her village. I miss her dearly, and in every corner of the village I can picture her walking around, as she did back in the 50s, 60s. Running errands, heading to school, having afternoon coffees. Now it is I in her place, the new Zoe. She even wrote “Zoe B” on my dowry.
These thoughts are what makes me appreciate my name so much. Zoe Loukia. Zoe for my yiayia Zoi, Loukia for my yiayia Lucy (Loukia in english, don’t ask me why we call her Lucy and not Loukia). It makes me think of that notion that’s been going around lately of being a mosaic of everyone you’ve loved. I was born with two big tiles right in the centre, Zoe and Loukia.
We’re heading down south now to the Peloponnese, so I’m going to get a bit of a break from reminiscing to just swim and paint and day drink (legally!!), not to mention build a tan for when I go back to school. Hope everyone is having a wonderful, relaxing summer!