April 16, 2007

The Greek and I – Part 3 - The little things

I remember watching ice hockey games – we were all Montreal Canadiens fans. One year, the year I stopped smoking, we made bets on the team, with packs of cigarettes, which Loukas’ friend (a Toronto fan – tsk, tsk) lined up on the display case in his restaurant… with the name of the Canadiens’ supporter. He won, that year. Next year? Rest of us won. George should have saved all those packs.

I remember the first time I got dragged into a Greek line dance knowing none of the steps, but getting caught up in the music. Later I got good enough to lead the line for a bit, holding the scarf! OPAH!

I remember when we went to see "Never On Sunday" – before the subtitles were added. I have a copy of the movie now… with the subtitles, and watch it from time to time. Still love it.

I remember learning to speak some Greek, out of self-preservation as much as anything else. Paranoia was imminent. And then I discovered, slowly that, yes, they WERE talking about me. Nicely. So much for paranoia.

I remember the first Greek meal I cooked, a breakfast – a feta cheese omelet and potatoes. And a coffee that … well, it WAS the first time I’d ever made coffee. It was so strong it could have grown hair on a rock!

I remember learning more and more about Greece, through music, dance, foods, stories, and about Greek people, from Loukas and his friends.

And all that is one big reason I still go to Greek Festivals, here and elsewhere, always with a hope … that he might be there. This year was no different. He wasn't there, again.