Malaka

11 July 2005

It wasn't any ordinary summer vacation. I had been invited to Greece - correction, to a Greek wedding. Not at all "My Big Fat" Greek wedding either as it turns out. But the most interesting thing about the trip wasn't Greece, or the wedding, it was who had invited me there.

It's a very long, short story. Twelve years ago, September of my 16th year, my French teacher handed me a form to fill out to order a pen pal. The idea was simple, pay a dollar, get an address. I already had two from the year before, a boy in Italy, and a girl in France, Aurelie, whom I had just visited that previous summer and gotten along with great. She remains one of my closest friends to this day. So I thought, what the heck, I'll get some more, and I signed up this time for a girl in Lithuania, Irma, whom I met at 20, and a boy in Greece, Kostas. Why a boy in Greece? I have no idea. I think it was the one European country that I had no stereotypes or preconceptions about. It seemed exotic I guess, but not exotic enough to tempt me down there before, that is, until last February. Kostas and I had been writing letters for over 11 years, and had recently switched over to the miracles of Yahoo Messenger and webcam. One night, over the internet, he told me he was getting married in July and asked me to come.

After all these years, I knew everything, and nothing at all about Kostas. I thought he was kind of weird, actually. I mean, what kind of guy writes letters to a girl for so long without ever meeting her? At first I resisted going, it's a bad time at work, but after a few weeks, it turned out that the wedding would fall into just the right window for me to sneak away for a week. And so, I booked a plane ticket, flying ON my birthday no less, and called a very happy Kostas to give him the news. Of course, I was excited too.

I had a really early flight out of Vilnius, but couldn't sleep on the plane. In Athens, as I stood waiting for my luggage, I spotted Kostas in the crowd. I had sent him an SMS to say that the flight was an hour late and I was wearing orange, but it didn't matter because we knew each other already. He told me later that his heart was pounding in his chest while he was waiting for me. We hugged awkwardly and he introduced me to his brother, Spiros, and his fiancee, Mary, and we all walked out into the hot Athens summer together. His brother drove, and his fiancee sat in front so we could sit together. It was strange, I had never been there before, but it was so familiar. We were not two strangers meeting for the first time, we were old friends, reunited after a long absence.

We went home to his parents' house (everyone lives with their parents, apparently, until they are married in Greece) and it was like visiting Marta or Aurelie. As if I had been there before. They fed me, because I was absolutely starving, and I immediately found what would be my main source of strength and nourishment for the week - feta. The freshest and most delicious feta I have ever had. Served simply with a tomato and cucumber salad. Later, we went to their friends' house so Mary could have a practice run with her makeup. While she was in the bathroom, Kostas and Spiros gave me my first lesson in Greek. I learned all the important words including 'malaka', which means, well, "asshole." Of course, if you listened to them talk for five minutes, you would think everyone in Greece is named malaka because they never call anyone else by their actual names! And since I was there to celebrate, it was important that I learn 'ja mas' which means "to your health". Laying on the beach the next afternoon, I decided that I will learn Greek. After some time, Kostas left me with Spiros and he went to pick up my birthday cake - a little piece of heaven in the shape of a watermelon with a single question mark candle on top. It was perfect.

Much of the week was a blur of naps and frappes, a particularly delicious cold coffee creation by Nescafe. I insisted that Kostas leave me to wander downtown Athens on my own two mornings while he ran errands. I walked all over, and was particularly delighted that there were TWO Zara stores on the main shopping street. The old, well, ancient part of Athens is amazing. Streets winding up and down along the side of the Akropolis, little cafes, small art shops, and a fantastically fun flea market. I wandered through the garment district where shop after shop sold dozens of bolts of colorful fabric, and I even bought some new leather sandals. I went to see the Temple of the Olympians (I think that's what it's called, anyway it was really old) but I reserved the Akropolis to go with Kostas. Otherwise, I spent my time running errands with him, which was fine with me. I just wanted to be around him, to talk, to figure out how we managed to stay in touch all these years. Surprisingly, we had quite a bit of time to do that, for which I am extremely happy.

The wedding began on Thursday with a party for 40 of the closest family members at their new appartment... incidentally, on the third floor of the building where she lived with her parents. In fact, nearly the entire building is occupied by members of her family. I'm told it's not entirely uncommon in Greece. Kostas was not allowed to see her after that night until the wedding, so we had Friday to ourselves (with the exception of last minute wedding preparations to take care of). Friday night were the bachelor and bachelorette parties. I went with Mary and her cousins to "a real Greek bazooka" as I was told time and again. Apparently that means a big hall with live Greek music, traditional and contemporary, a lot of drinking and even more dancing. It was a heck of a time, and we came home at 5.30... long after the boys who were at a nearby night club.

And then was the big day. We had mousaka for lunch, not only a delicious traditional Greek dish, something like lasagna with eggplant instead of noodles, but also the most fantastic hangover food. I had two large helpings and the conversation revolved around explaining me how to make it. We relaxed and talked with the cousins who had arrived for the wedding before Kostas took me down to my hair appointment. When I came back, everyone was asleep, and I crawled in next to Kostas who was sleeping in the spare bed in my room. He just opened his eyes and told me, "nice hair" before falling back asleep. Of course, it was about 95 F in the room, and with the heat, and a few wedding jitters, neither of us really slept. When we woke up, Kostas cousin Anna had arrived. He made me another frappe, and sooner rather than later, it was time to get dressed.

Kostas' friends came over to wash and dress him, which was hilarious! I got to watch (he was in his underwear) and took many photos. After, Kostas asked me to put oh his cologne for him. I was pleased. The wedding flew by, it was nothing like the movie. This wedding was so fantastically elegant, I actually have no words. Mary was perfect, and despite leaving a puddle of sweat all over the floor of the church, Kostas got through it splendidly. Dinner was served about 11:30, the cake was cut, the bouquet thrown, and every relative I met wished I would soon be married too... eeek!

Kostas had reserved Sunday afternoon to go to the Akropolis, and he is a man of his word, even if it was the day after his wedding. I spent the morning talking girl talk with his cousin Anna who was staying with us, and at lunch time Kostas and Mary arrived. We all piled in the car, Kostas and Mary, me, the cousins and a friend, and we went into Athens. As luck would have it, after an entire week of perfectly sunny skies and hot days, while we were standing at the ticket booth it started to thunderstorm so fiercely, we had no choice but take refuge in a nearby cafe. They all said it was a sign, that I must come back to Greece. Sign or no sign, it is for sure that I will come back to Greece... just as soon as Kostas and Mary come to Lithuania (we're planning for the end of next summer).

My flight was at 4am Monday morning so we never went to sleep Sunday night. At 2am, Kostas and Mary and left for the airport. In the car, I reminded Kostas that I didn't get to have balkava all week. But for that, I wouldn't have to wait for the next trip, for on the way to the airport, there is a bakery open all night that Kostas says is the best in Athens. While Mary and I waited in the car, Kostas bought me a beautifully wrapped box of pastries, at least 3kg worth, all tied with a bow. Inside, he had labeled what each of them were. Touched by our story, the owner insisted I have a large almond bread too.

This trip, was a lifelong dream come true, for both of us. I am so pleased to have had the chance, finally, to meet Kostas. Sitting in the cafe on Sunday, I wasn't disappointed not to see Akropolis, I was just happy to have a little more time sitting and joking with this entire new family I never realized I had. It's amazing how lucky I have been with the pen-pal program. But I guess it takes a certain kind of person to write so much of their self to a stranger. Kostas and I toasted our teachers several times during the week actually, for without them, we would have never met.

I still have baklava in my refrigerator, and it IS the best I have ever tasted.

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