reading

One of my favourite passtimes is reading. And i must admit that i am a bit of a sexist and a racist when concerning books. I know it is not fair but i tend to have a soft spot for female writers and if possible from other cultures or writing about other cultures (sorry guys, but now and then i try to make the effort to read your books. honestly).

So this summer in Crete i re-read:"The tiger ladies. A memoir of Kashmir" by Sudha Koul. Oh i enjoyed this book so much! Did any one of you read this book?

To my great surprise (i missed it the first time when i read this book) it is dedicated to Clarissa Pinkola Estes (the writer ads "who does not know me). I will write about her in one of my next posts, she is the author of:"Women who run with the wolves, myths and stories of the wild woman archetype".

I come back to her later...

And did you noticed my didi-towel (haha, you must be almost blind to miss it). Of course it is publicity for this woman-clothes-shop-chain, but for me it has a deeper meaning, being named didi by many refugees. Even some sikhs do, though they prefer benji or bibi.

What's in a name?

for all the widows

sabhe kant maheliya saglia karah seegar
[...]

She who is absorbed in the true Guru becomes immortal,

never shall she become a widow.

[...]

Guru Nanak

grandmothers

The old women in Crete are so brave, they go up and down their mountain looking for herbs, visiting their children, looking for company. Once they are widowed they wear black for the rest of their lives. Now i like to wear black, because i want to. But if you are forced to be marked as a widow all the fun of wearing black is gone. If is a greek (mediterian) form of sati, isn't it?

But never i saw these women, who worked hard their full lives conquering the island and its rough nature, in a loving and cuddly way with their grandchildren. Of course they love them, i am sure about that. But i think, life made them hard and bitter...

So a big hug for all these beautiful women....

steps

The little village Agia Galini is a real Zorba the Greek village. It has a little harbor and a pebble beach and all the houses are situated on the mountain. So there was a lot of climbing to do. The village centre (harbor) is a flat marketplace and from thereon all the streets are climbing.

Once out of the centre we still had to take 108 steps very steep up the hill.... and then all the steps in the hotel.

But the view was beautiful and was worth the effort.

Staircase to heaven... (but first i had to recover on the balcobny for 10 minutes! Darn, i have to do something about my condition!)

Some more Crete

From our balcony we had a view on the Greek Orthodox church. In contradiction to gurdwara's it was closed most of the times. It opened twice for a wedding (aaah a greek wedding exactly like in the movies) and for Sunday ceremony, that's all.
But i watched it every morning as i got up to do my prayer and meditation. Early morning is so beautiful, the pink light falling over the mountain. It was a sacred moment... and often i thought: now Moses will come down the mountain with God's message...
But nope, no Moses.
God's message was and is in my meditation.

Kreta

After a time of illness and discomfort, we thought we deserved a little holiday.
So of we went.

Of the 9500 islands in Greece, we choose the largest one, Crete. It is a wonderful island and i will give you more about it in the days to come (when i am lacking of other inspiration)

Crete and history, Crete and mythology, Crete and food, Crete and lifestyle... so many things to tell.

So we came home, completely relaxed, a little tan we had, good mood... but before we were sleeping in our own bed, we were on our way to emerency in the hospital, because my husband again got in trouble (bowel obstruction)

Thank God we were relaxed and we recognised the symptons this time... after a week my husband returned home, but the memorie of Crete had vanished quickly. So will go back in september probably. Hopefully the effect will take a little longer then.

Of course i missed someone very much, so i bought her this t-shirt. I like to think it was made especially for us, but Crete is full of longing grandmothers, so it is a very clever psychologist who start to produce these t-shirts. Anyway, she was very happy with it... my sweet princess!

Back

You have been patient. I didn't update my blog for a long time, i am sorry.
So step by step all the stories i have to tell, will be told.
I hope that the poem of Emily Dickinson said enough while i was living a while outside bloggerland.
But i am back and will try to cover the last months and of course, things that will come in my little life.
Hey, it is good to be back...