Carefully Aligning Chakras in Crete

Monday May 3, 2010

In India I had asked around to see if anyone had a connection with any producers or celebrities in Ballywood (Bombay) so that I could be cast in an Indian film as the tall puffy headed white guy. No luck in India, but without prompting, my new friend Kostas volunteered the news that his friend was filming a movie in Athens in just 2 days time. He was scouting for extras and said that I was welcome to show up on the set early Wednesday morning.

I arrived Wednesday morning to a well-appointed set in an old theater building. The upstairs was stocked with coffee, tea, and sandwiches that the producer’s mum had made (with the corners cut off - it’s a little excessive, but I enjoy it no less). I was quickly outfitted with a green sleeveless shirt and told to wait upstairs in the dark smoke-filled room and sip tea until they were ready for us.

I made friends with some of the extras and we discussed the political situation of Greece...Nikos (a tall stocky fellow with tall hair and solid english) told me about his career in Journalism, which was recently cut short by the closing of two of Greece’s leading newspapers. Many of the young people in Athens are out of work, and the newly graduating undergraduate classes are coming into the workforce with joblessness at an all-time high and no viable opportunities to use their degrees.

Despite lovely weather in the 70’s, Athenians are garbed in long pants and jackets during the day. I’ve caught several groups stop to look at me awkwardly because I’m the only one in sight wearing shorts. Athenians are highly individual people, sporting unique styles, political opinions and tastes. They embrace their friends and kiss on both cheeks, they don’t seem to have much conflict in bars, and they respect their seniors tremendously. Out of the corners of my eyes I catch young people helping older people with little tasks like hailing a cab or pushing their grocery cart over a particularly difficult crease in the street. It’s refreshing to see young people extend patience and kindness for what will ultimately be the older versions of myself. Maybe I’ll come back here to get old.

Athenians also smoke like chimneys. One fellow, both a mountain biker and erotic photographer, said that he believed the Athenian diet and his extensive daily biking routine would keep him from contracting cancer. I assured him that he was wrong, but did suggest that the erotic photography might give him a few extra years.

I digress, back to my film debut, after 2 hours we were ushered downstairs to the set (a bar scene meant to be in Barcelona). I was in the background as the main players acted around myself and 30 other extras. We danced and mimed conversations with each other, mugging for a hopeful cameo in the film. When the main characters kiss, we freeze (like someone’s been shot) and look at them, post-kiss we run out in a frenzy. The indy movie is called ‘Dos’, like the operating system, and should be out in about 6 months. With any luck, it will make it to the Angelika back in the US and I’ll have a chance to share my memory with my friends. Sometimes these things just happen on their own...call it omens, fate, good luck or even the influence of G-d.

Wednesday afternoon I headed to an art supply store 3 blocks off the Omonia Square subway stop. I went in to buy some paints and paper, but somehow managed to find myself in a conversation with Costas Niarchos, a 60+ year-old drawing instructor at the art school next door. I invited myself to his class which was beginning in just 15 minutes. He obliged me and took me into the art studio. We had 10 minutes before class started, which was enough time for him to impart some world knowledge. He said “Life is not about Happiness, but instead about happy moments”. He credited me with sharing a happy moment with him. I agreed, it’s good to be welcomed as a friend in a foreign country, and it’s so much more meaningful than it would be in a familiar setting.

About 5 people showed for the class, and while I didn’t learn any new skills, it was good to be ‘arting’ in commune with other people again. I found it surprising that this classroom was the one place in Greece where there was no cigarette smoking, though there was a smoke break halfway through the class, and the entire room emptied out. By that time, the principal of the school had gotten wind of the English-speaking stranger in the school and encouraged the teacher to boot me, lest the school be inspected for illegal students or some such BS. I said my farewells and left happy to have gone to school and been kicked out in the same day.

I went to a theater performance in Plakka in Athens one evening. The production looked interesting albeit a bit dark from the pictures outside the box office. It was in Greek, but the attendant suggested that I would still enjoy it. A very impatient Jared sat through a very conceptual and confusing production, fighting a filling bladder and choking back yawns for 2 hours as the only exit was over the stage.

To deal with my impatient tendencies, I purchased a Kompoloi, a strand of worry-beads that Greek men play with incessantly while going about their normal routine. The term is made up of Kompos (knot) and logos (words), and the ideas is that playing with the beads can help work out kinks in conversation. So far, it’s just like a yo-yo for me, but I can see where it would be a helpful distraction.

Found my way to the Acropolis eventually (I’m not generally one for historical places - I’m generally more interested in pursuing my own adventures), but it had closed just moments earlier so I headed to the newly-constructed Acropolis museum just at the base. A decent museum, but the food was both delicious and inexpensive. I had a flan-like dessert and a pastry filled with gruyere cheese, walnuts and something else that made it taste wonderful. I will reiterate that I could easily eat my way through Greece. I have not eaten anything remotely resembling mediocre since I arrived in Athens. These people invented food, I’m sure of it.

I popped into a Yoga class in Athens (Nysy Athens) and worked on my moola banda - by the way, I thought this area was just below my naval, but was surprised to learn that it’s actually the perenium (yes, google that...for the curious). Which leads me to my present locale.

2 days ago, after an extensive Google search, I called YogaRocks in Crete to book a 1-week retreat to practice Ashtanga yoga in the Southern region called Triopetra. On Saturday morning I hopped a short flight with Aegean Air to Crete, rented a car and headed immediately to the Aquarium (one of my favorite sights in any city). I had a zen experience eye-balling an octopus (he started charging the glass at me) and then a large reef shark headed directly at my face. I must be giving off some cosmic magnetism.

The ride, which was supposed to have been 1 1/2 hours, stretched anxiously into a 4 hour saga as I missed the given route forcing me to rely on the back-dated navigation system that excluded any roads built in Crete in the last 15 years. The roads were as crooked and windy as the most insane roller-coaster ever conceived. I snaked through an inordinate number of small mountain towns situated precariously on the tops of cliffs and edged along 1-lane roads with on-coming traffic testing me every mile or so. I hate mountain driving and avoid looking over the edge, but it was near impossible to overlook the amazing views of the mountains and lush overgrowth and eventually, the bluest seas I have ever seen.

About 3 hours in I decided to stop for a Coke and a smile. I was a bit nauseas, hot and hungry. It was May 1st, a national work holiday and a Saturday, so finding an open store wasn’t so easy. When I found a spot, it was in a quaint town at a local gas station, I found snacks and soda in ample supply. When I got out of the car I noticed what sounded like live Greek music just a bit down the hill. After leaving the gas station, I decided to be adventurous and seek the source. I walked about 50 yards to the small bar finding that the live music was actually from the open car door nearby. About 7 men were playing cards and drinking inside the bar/living room. I went inside and asked for a Coke. All eyes were on me, I sensed that this town doesn’t get too many visitors now that a larger highway allows most people to avoid this twisted route.

The biggest guy in the bar, Mikos, told the waitress in Greek that my drink was on his tab. I resisted but he insisted, which led to a full conversation in absolutely no common language. He did understand that I lived in Dallas, to which he held up his hand, indicating a gun. I nodded, acknowledging that us Texans do have guns. Immediately he ushered me outside and went to the black BMW playing the Helenic classics and lifted the floor mat to reveal a 9mm pistol.

Mikos grabbed the gun and emptied 6 rounds straight into the air. The hot shell casings bounced off my head onto the ground. I started laughing, I suspected the worst was over so what harm was there in cracking up. We walked back in, and a call came in on the bar-owner’s phone - a neighbor wondering if everything was ok at the bar. I finished my Coke and left to my car after about 5 minutes. When I got there, I thought I needed to give this man something in exchange for his hospitality, which is exactly what it was, I have no doubt that he was showing off and not trying to intimidate me. I picked out the Duke hat that I purchased in honor of their recent National Championship win and brought it down to Mikos. I put it on his head...all of the folks in the bar cheered and laughed to see their friend with a baseball cap on his head. A bit more rattled than when I arrived, I hopped in the car and headed on my way, back on the crooked road to Triopetra.

Arriving was wonderful...the seaside building is not surrounded by anything except for mountains and a few distant houses.

I’ve been practicing yoga with 15 foreign women for the past 2 days. 6 Swedes, 6 Danes, 3 Brits and me, the US yoga novice. I’m not as bad as I supposed I would be, I can actually do the first grouping of poses without much prompting now. I am quite sore and everything cracks and creaks, but I’m told that will pass. Our meals are all macro-vegan concoctions, which I’ve read encourages concentration essential for meditation and yoga focus. Still, I’m hungry for another amazing Gyro like I had when I first arrived on Crete (Kreti).

Breakfast is at 7, meditation at 8am, then yoga for 2-3 hours immediately following. In the evenings is either a second yoga session or a meditation session (tonight is the first evening meditation).

I sweat like a pig-in-heat, which my classmates effortlessly glide between poses. I think I have glandular problem. I’m fairly certain that I’m detoxifying my body, as my sweat has ceased smelling like Indian entrees. There’s no alcohol or other mind-altering substances to impede or confuse our paths to enlightenment. The nearest town is about 40 minutes away, cutting distractions to a minimum. Everyone is very positive and encouraging. It’s a wonderful learning environment and I’m very happy to be here.

My new friend Binda is a strong Danish woman who was recently divorced from her husband of 40 years. She realized she had completely ignored herself in raising her children and caring for her husband. At 58-years old, her new life consists of scuba, golf and yoga. For some this is about fitness, some it’s about calm, and for a few of us, it’s about getting a bit more enlightened and improving our lifestyles.

In between classes I’m reading books on exploring the mind, hanging in one of the many hammocks around the building, or on the beach (the water is still frigid, so we only jump in and then immediately pop out of the surf).

Tonight I had an incredible meditation session. New breathing exercises brought me to some wonderful visualizations and I had an enormous grin on my face from an intense feeling of joy. It was almost as if I was attacked by a sea of tickle-monsters who could instantly make me happy by jumping on me. Mental images may not translate well to blogs, but let me just say that it was a moving and exhilarating experience. It’s 9:30pm and everyone has gone to sleep. I think I’m the first one to break and use a computer. Oh well, we’ll all have nirvana, I might just be the last one there:)