Up, Up With People!
Remember that worldwide choral group/movement from the late 70’s and early 80’s called “Up, Up With People?” Their jingle went something like this: “Up, up with people...you meet them wherever you go; up, up with people, they’re the best kind of folks you know! If more people were FOR people everywhere...there’d be a lot less people to worry about and a lot more people who care...” (I’m sure I totally mangled the words, but you get the drift!) This trip so far has reinforced my belief that people truly make all the difference in turning a good experience an amazing one! Some examples (not in any order or attached to any specific place since I can’t seem to keep track of where we’ve been or where we’re going!):
There was Costos, the restauant owner, who, when asked how he made his wine (which most retauranteers we’ve encountered seem to do!) excitedly drew a picture of the entire process on his paper table cloth and then, when we were about to leave, came running out to give us a complimentary plastic bottle filled with his wine. (Yes, oftentimes in Greece, wine seems to be stored in plastic bottles!!)
Then there was the kind, shirtless man in a wheelchair who owned an adorable pistachio shack, who, when he thought Bernice had brought Mark and me there after having bought some pistachios earlier in the day, insisted on giving her a box of Greek sweets.
Then there was Dimitris and his lovely wife, both Athenians, who befriended Mark and me on the beach and shared several delightfully entertaining mornings and evenings with us, during which we learned all about their (well, mainly Dimistris’) views on politics, religion, world affairs, and perspectives on life, his favorite one being: “Out of bad, comes good.”
And of course there was the diver, who, within 15 minutes of learning that our anchor was trapped and we were unable to move, dropped everything to spend the morning trying to free us. He was assisted by a random Greek sailor who paddled out on his dingy to translate for us since the diver didn’t speak any English, other than the words (which he kept repeating throughout the morning, much to our chagrine): “very, very difficult.”
There was also Nicki, who ran a heavenly, family-owned villa tucked away in a rustic cove whose food was deliriously delectable and whose ever-present smile, helpfulness, and oh-so-positive attitude made it sheer pleasure to spend time with her. As with the other restaurants, her family produces their own wine (aged a whopping 3 months!), featuring her father and uncles on the label.
And we can’t forget our super-friendly Dutch friends with whom we docked for several days, who welcomed us with beer from Holland, had lively conversations with us, and spent oodles of time assisting us with our anchoring debacle (even after they were supposed to have set sail). Their daughter, Tessa, who is “differently-abled” in multiple ways (autism, physical disabilities, etc.), generously gifted us with her beautiful smile whenever she saw us.
The other morning Mark and I hiked into town and over to a remote chapel. We were famished and tired so we stopped at a local coffee shop on the way back for breakfast. As we looked at the menu we realized we had left our money back at the boat, but the owner generously offered us a free breakfast. “Money doesn’t matter,” insisted.
Yesterday Mark wrote about Thomas, the restaurant owner who called us up to his two-story, very spacious, but woefully empty restaurant to offer us complimentary fruit and drinks. He gleefully and proudly showed us around his place as well as the food he had lovingly prepared for the evening. He then proceeded to talk about how his restaurant was passed down through multiple generations. Thomas’ contagious enthusiasm about his restaurant was matched only by his ultra-positive outlook on life and love of people.
One of my favorite quotes is from Maya Angelou, which goes something like this: “I will forget what you said; I will forget what you did; but I will never forget how you made me feel.” In Greece (and I think I can speak for Mark, Bernice and Rebecca), I feel embraced and filled with gratitude. Up, up with people!
Remember that worldwide choral group/movement from the late 70’s and early 80’s called “Up, Up With People?” Their jingle went something like this: “Up, up with people...you meet them wherever you go; up, up with people, they’re the best kind of folks you know! If more people were FOR people everywhere...there’d be a lot less people to worry about and a lot more people who care...” (I’m sure I totally mangled the words, but you get the drift!) This trip so far has reinforced my belief that people truly make all the difference in turning a good experience an amazing one! Some examples (not in any order or attached to any specific place since I can’t seem to keep track of where we’ve been or where we’re going!):
There was Costos, the restauant owner, who, when asked how he made his wine (which most retauranteers we’ve encountered seem to do!) excitedly drew a picture of the entire process on his paper table cloth and then, when we were about to leave, came running out to give us a complimentary plastic bottle filled with his wine. (Yes, oftentimes in Greece, wine seems to be stored in plastic bottles!!)
Then there was the kind, shirtless man in a wheelchair who owned an adorable pistachio shack, who, when he thought Bernice had brought Mark and me there after having bought some pistachios earlier in the day, insisted on giving her a box of Greek sweets.
Then there was Dimitris and his lovely wife, both Athenians, who befriended Mark and me on the beach and shared several delightfully entertaining mornings and evenings with us, during which we learned all about their (well, mainly Dimistris’) views on politics, religion, world affairs, and perspectives on life, his favorite one being: “Out of bad, comes good.”
And of course there was the diver, who, within 15 minutes of learning that our anchor was trapped and we were unable to move, dropped everything to spend the morning trying to free us. He was assisted by a random Greek sailor who paddled out on his dingy to translate for us since the diver didn’t speak any English, other than the words (which he kept repeating throughout the morning, much to our chagrine): “very, very difficult.”
There was also Nicki, who ran a heavenly, family-owned villa tucked away in a rustic cove whose food was deliriously delectable and whose ever-present smile, helpfulness, and oh-so-positive attitude made it sheer pleasure to spend time with her. As with the other restaurants, her family produces their own wine (aged a whopping 3 months!), featuring her father and uncles on the label.
And we can’t forget our super-friendly Dutch friends with whom we docked for several days, who welcomed us with beer from Holland, had lively conversations with us, and spent oodles of time assisting us with our anchoring debacle (even after they were supposed to have set sail). Their daughter, Tessa, who is “differently-abled” in multiple ways (autism, physical disabilities, etc.), generously gifted us with her beautiful smile whenever she saw us.
The other morning Mark and I hiked into town and over to a remote chapel. We were famished and tired so we stopped at a local coffee shop on the way back for breakfast. As we looked at the menu we realized we had left our money back at the boat, but the owner generously offered us a free breakfast. “Money doesn’t matter,” insisted.
Yesterday Mark wrote about Thomas, the restaurant owner who called us up to his two-story, very spacious, but woefully empty restaurant to offer us complimentary fruit and drinks. He gleefully and proudly showed us around his place as well as the food he had lovingly prepared for the evening. He then proceeded to talk about how his restaurant was passed down through multiple generations. Thomas’ contagious enthusiasm about his restaurant was matched only by his ultra-positive outlook on life and love of people.
One of my favorite quotes is from Maya Angelou, which goes something like this: “I will forget what you said; I will forget what you did; but I will never forget how you made me feel.” In Greece (and I think I can speak for Mark, Bernice and Rebecca), I feel embraced and filled with gratitude. Up, up with people!
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