Summer in Greece for Greeks is so multifaceted that I decided that more than one moodboard is needed. This is about our experiences during this time, and the parts of our "mundane" summer that leave a special mark on our hearts.
At home: You stay at the city apartment - maybe with your parents - but the atmosphere still feels summer-y and time flows more slowly. From your balcony, you see some distant greenery while you open a book near a blurry glass-and-metal table, perhaps treating yourself to some vanilia and pita. An older neighbor brings you the vyssino spoon sweet they made themselves and it tastes amazing. Cold coffee keeps you alive at this point, and it defines every stage of your day. The paliatzis also acts as an alarm. On your relaxing walks outside you see cats standing outside vintage grocery stores, and old, nostalgic, neoclassical buildings. You dream of going to another country for vacation when you have the money, but for now, you make the best of that welcome domestic break. You talk about your future destinations with your friends, as the "machine ice cream" melts on your hand during your seaside walk.
Calm Greece: Summer feels like a romantic dream you have while gramophone music plays in the background. Your eyes fill with the evening pastel colors and the passing golden light. You admire the street art and the vintage architecture on the streets, and flowers are always there. You wonder about the Greeks of past eras, imagining them sitting in a kafeneio, strolling down the street with a lace umbrella, or waiting to enjoy the new comedy in their marble theater. This city has seen a thousand summers. The peaceful and quiet moments, as the streets empty, are the most precious element of the season.
Idyllic Greece: You are here because of family (maybe your grandparents or uncles live here) and you'd rather be somewhere else, however the place has something special. It's not a touristy location and you are glad about that because you are one of the few who can enjoy this gem of nature. Sometimes it gets boring, and you fidget with the paper table cloth at the psarotaverna, but then you have one evening stroll around the village and you feel strangely rejuvenated. A rooster starts your morning and a dekaokhtoura your evening. Maybe you don't like coming but you also don't like leaving, and secretly you wish you knew everything about the history of that place. Your heart tightens at the thought that one day you may never return.
Dancing summer: Summer thrusts you into a series of celebrations and bright warm lights. Your parents take you to the panigiri, that kapsouri friend drags you to the bouzoukia, this aunty lets you know that your cousin is dancing at a folk festival, and you hear loud songs from your neighbors that resonate strangely with you. It's not that as bad as you thought. The alcohol is as strong as the kefi, and you look amazing. You hear the car kornas of a wedding every weekend and comment about the "poor fellows" to yourself, or with your family. You finally find the time to go to the best concerts of the season but sometimes the artists bring the music to you, inside the suffocatingly hot city. Your heart flatters and you decide to dance.
Colorful Greece: Summer brings out the colors in your everyday life. Mostly because it's tourist season and the souvenir shops are open, but who said that you are not entitled to some of that vibrant joy? You hate the culture sellout, you love the culture sellout, it is what it is. At least you find cool trinkets and your xenoi friends get excited, so that makes you happy. The black dresses of the yayas are unique in that rich scenery, and, most of the time, accompanied by sweet smiles. If your life happens to be too much like a movie, you'll get the "tinos isi sy?" question, followed by a surprising exploration of your lineage. This is also the time to get into heated arguments about the feta-karpouzi dish, and being looked at strangely by the tourists. Thankfully, there are some good stekia around the town that you can go to and feel like you are not becoming a yaya yourself. You have a small fascination with laternas and their unexpected sound on the street momentarily tempts you to leave everything behind and make your living with a laterna, too.
Too close for comfort: Somehow you are pretty satisfied with how your summer turned, even if it's not conventionally "unique". Founding beauty in your land is not that difficult, anyway, and some moments are simple but awe-worthy. You lose at tavli and you win at tavli - but you mostly lose at tavli, and against the cockiest uncle. You swear an oath to copy his behavior, just to annoy him back. You haven't met any new people this summer and it's fine, most of the time. Maybe you are working in the laiki, or in a cafe for extra cash, and the evenings find you in a taverna with amazing roasted meat, or around the oldest tree in the village. Your strolls on the town market, alone or with some friends, may look like nothing special but you'll miss them so fast when winter comes again.
