30 March 2007

The Romantics and Mythology

The sun was burning down upon me, making the top of my head feel like it was on fire. There was only a slight breeze from time to time, almost an insult in its infrequency. The slender trees did little to abate the scorch of the Greek sun.

I was standing a stone’s throw away from the legendary city of Akrotiri, on the island of Santorini. This city of ash served as my backdrop as I talked of Byron, Keats, and Shelley. My fellow students sat on a small gathering of boulders and listened as I compared Pygmalion to the Stepford Wives. My professor swatted at flies and nodded encouragingly when I faltered.

Where Athens had been dirty, the people suspicious, the streets chaotic and noisy: Santorini was lanquid, the locals beaming and welcoming us in. The white buildings with touches of blue cast a spell on all of us. Children played near the fountain in the town square, old women chattered on a nearby bench, a scruffy dog sat in the shade. By night, young people crowded the cafes and restaurants. They leaned in around tables in the sweet night air, and talked animatedly.
My most vivid memory is of a young man on a red scooter. It was twilight and I was walking with my group up a cobblestone street. He spoke barely a word of English, but smiled widely as he offered me a perfect red rose. He gestured at the flower saying haltingly, “Please…..for you. You are so beautiful.” Then he sped away, waving as he did.

Everything about my days in Santorini were magical: the black sand beaches, the people, the storybook views, the narrow alleys crowded with vendors. I will always remember the smell of the air, the view from the top deck as the ferry pulled away, white buildings getting smaller and smaller.

Go West, Girl!

It has taken 9 years, 3000 miles, 5 bags and a lot of nerve to get to Seattle. And I wouldn't take any of it back. This is only the second full day in my new city, and it already feels like home. This place has always felt that way to me. Seattle has been pulling me back since I spent the summer of 1999 here. It was the best summer of my life, exactly what an almost 21-year old would want. I worked in a neighborhood coffee shop and was best friends with everyone at work. I went to concerts, water parks, street festivals, a nude bike race (yep, it's the truth!) I was able to spend quality sibling time with my older brother, something I hadn't been able to do in quite some time. I lived in Seattle for three months that summer, a time that really changed my life.

I was here in the Pacific Northwest again over this past Thanksgiving. The pull to be in Seattle was stronger than it ever had been before. It didn't matter that I would have to quit my job, change coasts, break up with my boyfriend, and relinquish ownership of a condo. None of these things mattered, I had to be in my city. It seemed an impossible task, many people reminded me of this on a regular basis. It would be expensive, complicated, emotional...all these things I knew. But 4 months later, I am in my brother's house sitting in a chair, looking at a view of downtown Seattle out the window. I may not have a job or a place of my own, but I am home. Everything else will fall into place. I have made it this far, I will not stop until I have everything I came here for. And even then, I will not stop.

Mother Doing Good

Self Magazine has an award contest called Women Doing Good. It honors women who give their time and talents to charitable organizations. I k...