Flush or Not To Flush…

Back From Mt Athos Who would think that something like toilet paper would become a memorable part of a trip. Not sure what to expect on Mt Athos in terms of accommodations and related "services" I brought along some supplies.  I had Imodium (in case someone got some bad food), cough syrup, antacid, Tylenol with codeine, and a small roll of 100% recycled paper toilet paper. I had heard stories of people traveling in Eastern Europe where toilet paper was ripped up newspaper, I would have none of that on this trip. Fortunately our accomodations were great and a scrap of newspaper was not to be found in the bathrooms.

A day after we were got to Greece I came down with a cold; not a bad one but still the usual sneezing, coughing and requisite nose blowing. Now if I were at home this wouldn’t be a big problem but since I was up at odd hours of the night standing in long church services my trusty roll came in handy. Stuffed in my vest pocket I had an almost endless supply of nose blowing material. If you’ve ever used 100% recycled toilet paper you know that it is a bit on the abrasive side.  With ample facial hair and a tough schnoz a little abrasion perhaps worked better than the soft perfumed stuff designed for the ladies. 

The problem was I’m not a dainty sneezer, I’ve never been able to quelch a sneeze as others do.  The beautiful services were occasionally punctuated by my "full body sneezes". I can just imagine another pilgrim telling his friends " the services were marvelous, very peaceful and uplifting, except every once in awhile some American dude would sneeze and blow his big nose… Americans!".  I was perhaps the only person in the entire 1000 year history of the Holy Mountain to stand in church with a prayer rope in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other! 

Now comes the fascinating part of my toilet paper tale: In Greece (and perhaps elsewhere in Europe) rather than flushing the paper down the toilet one disposes of it in a small garbage can next to the toilet. I’m not sure why but perhaps it is due to the old plumbing in many buildings or bad paper that won’t degrade. Try flushing newspaper down your toilet sometime and see what happens! Anyway, it was very strange and disconcerting. Down the toilet is almost a reflexive act, in the garbage takes some thought. Complicating things further some places wanted you to flush it.

Truth be told, my lower GI tract doesn’t take well to major time zone changes and it’s a bit shy about strange bathrooms, especially ones where one is required to squat. So mix in the flush or not to flush quandary… well you know what I mean.  I have to confess, there were a few times I flushed when I should have thrown.  Once or twice ( OK , three times) I’ll admit I did flush in a spirit of defiance; "I’ll be damned if I’m going to open that garbage can with all the other "used" paper in there… it’s un-American!"

Greek Coffee

One of my concerns before the trip, albeit a minor one, was caffeine. Being a fairly hardcore coffee drinker I didn’t want to deal with coffee withdrawal during the trip. Thinking ahead I laid in a small supply of chocolate covered espresso beans in my bag in the event of a caffeine emergency. The delectable beans came in handy on a number of occasions. How marvelous they tasted to our weary band of pilgrims on the long trek to Karakallou Monastery . 

Finding a “real” American style (Gallicos Cafe as the Greeks call it) cup of coffee in Greece is difficult.  The common cup of black coffee is “Nescafe”, really, it is referred too as “Nescafe”.  Now that is good brand identity!  Unfortunately I had a number of Nescafes in desperation.  On the ferry to Mt Athos I had a Nescafe version of a “Frappacino”:  water, those magical Nescafe crystals, powered non-dairy whitener, and sugar all whipped like a milkshake… not bad really.

Greek-style coffee is ubiquitous.  We were served it at every monastery upon our arrival at the guesthouse.  The guest master (Arhondaris) would serve a glass of water, Greek coffee, and a sweet treat, usually it was Loukoumi (sort of like apples and cotlets but chewer and flavored with rose water) but on a few occasions it was a cookie or chocolate.  Greek coffee, for those who are unfamiliar, is made with a finely ground almost powered coffee that is boiled in a small pot (brikki) with sugar liberally added. Served in a small demitasse cup, it is only a few ounces of coffee-like liquid. The taste is very intense and sometimes just not very good. Of course a lot depends on the quality of the coffee as we all know. We did have on occasion what I consider a decent cup. By the end of the trip Patrick refused to drink it, he had had enough. Me, I was just in it for the caffeine and to be polite. Speaking of polite; Fr Peter told us Europeans regard Americans as too polite and “simple-minded”. I’ve never thought of myself as polite, simple-minded yes. From that point on I was on guard to avoid any unnecessary episodes of excessive politeness in order to not perpetuate this ugly stereotype of Americans. 

The danger of drinking Greek coffee is what lies unseen at the bottom of the cup. Since the coffee is poured unfiltered into the cup a thick sludge settles at the bottom. The problem comes for the neophyte not yet conditioned to stop before that fateful moment of no return when the unpleasant slurry invades every fissure of the unsuspecting mouth. Yuck! No amount of water easily at hand can flush the unpleasantness out, no antidote, a rookie mistake that not even the sticky sweet Loukoumi will annul. 

Drinking Greek coffee requires that one set aside a part of awareness to monitor the cup. An interesting conversation can pose certain disaster as it did me at Vatopedi . The polite American in me fortunately restrained the basic instinct to run from the room screaming! A few mistakes and one learns. By the end of the trip I was cocky enough to play a game with myself: how far down can I drink this without… life on the edge at 50.

How Was Your Trip?

The Ladder of Divine AscentThis is a question I’ve been asked countless times by friends and coworkers since I returned. When asked, I reply "great!" "wonderful!" but in my head I’m thinking how inadequate such a casual reply is in conveying the full measure of this adventure. If I were simply on a vacation I might feel satisfied with such a common response. Even in situations where we get a bit more in-depth I’m never sure what to say. How do I convey such an experience? Well… I spent 8-10 hours a day in church. I slept 2-6 hours a day, never in one block. I ate twice a day. I even had to drink boiled sweet coffee (Greek coffee) to meet my daily caffeine needs… now that is a struggle! This was no sightseeing trip, no week on the beach (although that would have been nice!). This was a spiritual pilgrimage that I’m still trying to understand.

Now, I don’t want to make more out of it than it was; I wasn’t looking for answers, direction, or solace on the trip. I was open to whatever might happen. It would certainly be nice to get some "spiritual sense" slapped into me but that was unlikely. Major life changes do happen to folks on pilgrimages. As we saw and heard, many people come to Mt Athos with heavy burdens that are lifted by God’s grace. Again, how do you explain to someone that you stood in awe and prayed before an ancient icon, like thousands before you have done, some of them Saints, and have it make any sense. How do you convey the "other worldly" experience of spending all night in services? I’m reminded of the report to Prince Vladimir of the Rus (pre-Christian Russia 990 AD) by emissaries returning from Constantinople, saying of Orthodox worship: "we knew not whether we were in heaven or on earth". How humble and lowly one feels when gazing upon a relic of the "True Cross" of Christ, theuncorrupt (undecayed ) hand of St John Chrysostom, the belt of the Holy Virgin and on and on. Many people would think you nuts, deluded, a fool for believing in such things!

One takes from such an experience a sense of wonder at what has taken place in these great monasteries over the centuries. Indeed, much of what has shaped the course and life of the Church (Orthodox) in the last 1000 years was influenced by those who lived at one time or another on the Holy Mountain. Even today there are many holy men,"elders" and ascetics living there. At other monastaries across the globe there are also many holy women (not to leave out the ladies!). Some, but not all, provide spiritual guidance to others. All strive to pray unceasingly for their own salvation and at that of others.

If I had a "mission" on the trip it was to pray for other people: my family, extended family, church family, friends, co-workers and especially those I know who are ill. Rarely was I thinking of myself, I do that enough at home! As we hear many times, the spiritual path is narrow (as depicted in the icon above). We Orthodox don’t believe that simply professing a belief in God or accepting Jesus as one’s personal savior is the beginning and end to the spiritual journey. Growth rather, comes from struggle and hardship; not something we in the 21st century are accustomed to.  It is through humility, repentance, and love that spiritual progress comes often in imperceptible steps. The Church has often been referred to as a "spiritual hospital", if that is indeed true than the monasteries are the "intensive care units". It is here that immersion in the complete cycle of Orthodox worship and the ascetic life that one finds true medicine for the soul.

It even seems that today’s world leaders feel the same way. Read an interesting article about their pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain andVatopedi Monastery prior to a major summit.

More info about Orthodoxy

Dining Monastery Style

Gregoriou Trapeza One of the unexpected surprises of the trip was the food served at the monasteries. Don’t get me wrong, this was not gourmet fare, just simple wholesome food.  There were two meals a day, each following services.  In the evening the meal was served after Vespers so we ate between 5-6 pm.  The morning meal would be served after Liturgy anywhere from 5-7 am. depending on when the services started.  At several places services started at 1 am so breakfast was early.

Meals are eaten in the refectory or trapeza, a separate building usually close to the church.  The walls of the dining room are covered with murals depicting saints and biblical themes.  Most of the murals showed the ravages of time.  However, at Gregoriou Monastery the refectory had recently been repainted as part of the major reconstruction effort there, it was beautiful.

Vatopedi Click For Larger Image Orthodox view the meal, particularly one after Liturgy as an extension of the service.  The meal after Liturgy is called the Agape Meal (meaning love feast).  The refectories varied in size depending on the monastery but most sat everyone with room to spare.  Vatopedi’s refectory can seat at least 250 people with small marble tables that seat six.  At most one sits at long tables with benches, guests sitting apart from the monks.  There is no talking during the meal; everyone gets right down to the business of eating since the meal only lasts about 15 minutes.  While everyone eats a monk reads, usually from a pulpit above everyone, from the lives of the saints. 

Wednesdays and Fridays are fasting days in the Orthodox Church.  On these days no meat, dairy, eggs and sometimes olive oil can be eaten.  Monks never eat meat.  On big feasts of the Church they can eat fish.  We had fish on the morning of the Feast of Theophany ( Epiphany) our first full day on Athos.  On fasting days we would have a pasta dish of some type in the morning.  On non-fast days we might have a fresh egg hardboiled, feta cheese, olives, a piece of fruit and bread.  Wine was also available; at 5 am I passed on it. 

Gregoriou Trapeza Much of what we ate was raised at the monasteries.  At Vatopedi they grow their own wheat and mill it.  The breads served at each meal were the heartiest I’ve ever eaten.  Not very sweet, they were incredibly dense and had to be eaten in small bites in order to muster enough saliva to swallow.  No butter or jam to ease it down, just break off a piece and work it over.  Very filling! At Vatopedi they also have hothouse tomatoes.  A fresh tomato at each meal was a real treat.  Feta and olives were also products of the monasteries.  Feta and olives for breakfast is fabulous.  As you can gather, I was impressed with the fare at Vatopedi.  The morning meal we had there has to rank up there with the most satisfying meals I’ve ever had.  The main course was a spatzel-like dish with a hardboiled egg, feta, olives and of course tomatoes.  They also served a coffee cake that was almost as dense as the bread.  No coffee or tea is served at any meal only water.

Evening meals often included beans in some type of stew.  Cabbage and onions was also a favorite.  At Xeropotamou we were served pickled cauliflower.  At Gregoriou they served fresh oranges from their terraced orchards.  Karrakallou served us kiwis.  Generally speaking the meals were very well balanced.  In fact, I’d say that the morning meal was more balanced than the typical American breakfast, certainly better than mine.

The meal ends when the abbot rings the bell.  A closing blessing is said and the monks file out followed by the guests.  As you leave the building the abbot is outside the door blessing all who leave.  A number of monks are outside prostrating in deference to the guests.  Post meal is a time for conversation and catching up.  For us it was time to debrief after the long service and plan our day’s move.  If it was early enough in the morning we would catch some sleep before setting off for our next destination.