Paradise lost! down periscope! get us outta here!
Here we are hanging out in yet another island café sipping kiwi juice and breathing deep the mixed aroma of Mediterranean sea-mist and cigarette smoke. We need jobs.
It is hard for me to believe how focused our initial job search was and how picky we were. At this point, we are seeking the more lucrative markets of the Far East as opposed to the cow-feed positions in Eastern Europe. Either way, we still have a lot of work to do. As a good friend so accurately put it, “looking for a job is a full-time job”.
We did make some time to have a little fun on New Year’s Eve; it was unavoidable. The Cretans go nuts for the New Year. Children walk around all day clanging metal triangles and receiving donations from door to door. Do not be fooled as I was – they are no salvation army; all of their elicited funds go straight to the fireworks stand and are used in strategic strikes against fruit stands, glass bottles, and flower planters. It isn’t just children either; we were the victims of a drive by fire-cracking by two fully grown men in a station wagon. The constant explosions were not for the faint of heart but it helped to shake off some of the tension that the international job market puts on new recruits. The sky was filled with a traditional fireworks display at the stroke of midnight to top-off a day of vigilante gunpowder slinging. I do not think the locals got much closure though…they are still lighting off fireworks daily and nightly and it is the 8th of January.
Someone must have mixed fireworks and alcohol because there was an unfortunate disaster later that evening. After Bethany cashed in her chips I took a walk around to absorb a little more of the excitement. As I was making my rounds I noticed a strange smell and shortly found the flame-gutted remains of a once ritzy coffee bar. The smoldering floor was smoking lightly and all the windows were blasted out. It seemed that the Greeks did have a fire department (not funny because I was having serious doubts). A capitalist at heart, I took my penlight out and slowly investigated the possibility of anything valuable surviving the flames (i.e. a cash register). Alcohol induced treasure hunting is surprisingly exciting. Needless to say, I didn’t find any money but I did not return empty handed. I grabbed a glass bowl, a tin full of toothpicks and an ashtray for reasons only God knows.
On my way back through town with my loot, "American Alley" (a bar strip named for the magnetic force it exerts on US military personnel) was in an uproar. Apparently, the Greek police has been called (they had police too!?) because there was a fight with some Americans and a Greek and then some Syrians decided to make threats with a gun and surround the building or something. Ah, alcohol - "the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems" Homer J. Simpson. Way too heavy for me so I just went on my way, clicking my beads in the early hours of the morning. I really enjoy the cool quiet of the early morning when the birds are just waking and the hangover hasn't even begun to stir.
Anyways, we met some very friendly guys from the Navy base and have been hanging out with them a bit more, which is a nice relief. One of them even gave me a guitar! I am looking forward to reporting something a bit more exciting such as changing time zones.
Check out a few new pictures on Picasa. We found some old ruins, a hilarious car, a church, and a creepy doll-house thing...
