Maroulas ~ Crete

Looking down on Maroulas

                       For my last couple of weeks around the Eastern Mediterranean I decided to head north and spend time in Greece.  I really wanted to experience the classic village life in Greece so I did a bit of research and found a website where people from around the world post adds looking for ‘helpers’  - I came across a woman (Marianna) living in a small village outside of Rethymno on the island of Crete who was looking for someone to help her with her herbal shop…. It sounded like the perfect fit for me.  The village, Maroulas, sits on a hillside at 300 m – overlooking olive groves and the beautiful Sea of Crete.  The village only has around 200 inhabitants and is ~ 800 years old – originally built around an old olive mill.

             The herbal shop is pretty much the only shop in the village – sitting beside the one café and a few doors down from the ‘Taverna’.  Also, a few steps away from the shop is Marianna’s lovely stone house where I have been living the past week with her family (two sons, 12 & 21 and the father George).  My typical day in the village thus far is as follows:  I wake up around 7 am to have tea on the balcony with Marianna and George – waking up slowly with the quiet morning light.  Then, I join George on the roof for a session of Tibetian rejuvination excercises (similar to yoga).  After a shower, Greek coffee and a small breakfast I begin working with the herbs~ cleaning the various dried herbs that have been collected, helping make large batches of various teas and then packaging the teas.  Later in the afternoon I help out with lunch (the largest meal of the day) and then everyone goes their separate ways to relax for a bit – I usually take some reading to the rooftop or go for a walk in the village.  As people regain their energy, the early evening is usually spent doing a bit of work with the dried herbs or gathering fresh herbs in the surrounding hillsides.

                The village life has been treating me well – and after a hard last push to finish my research in Israel, this is exactly what I needed.  Staying with the family and working with Marianna has been a great experience and I have learned a lot about not only the herbal healing properties– but also how the relaxed culture can rejuvenate & heal as well;)

                 Within the next few days I will say goodbye to the family and travel around the island for a bit before I head home!  Here are a few pics from around the village.... I will include more of the family and herb shop in the next post:)

The local cafe~

'Main street' with the herbal shop right on the corner

View to the East from above Maroulas

The Dead Sea

Salt crystals along the shore

       The Dead Sea is one of the most unique places I have ever been.  As you approach the sea on the highway you are consistently reminded of the declining elevation until you finally arrive to the lowest point on earth at over 400m below sea level!  The landscape around the Dead Sea is mainly comprised of the harsh Jordan Rift Valley - an extremely arid and sparse landscape with silhouettes of jagged crumbling mountains.  The salty sea itself is peacefully flat and calm, offering the wonderful feeling of weightlessness - as you don't really swim, you more or less bob like a buoy.

what a good excuse to play in the mud;)

My favorite part about the Dead Sea was the mud..... healing in humor and mineral therapeutics:)  You have to feel around a bit before you find the perfectly smooth mud, which feels kind of like a slimy clay.  As the Dead Sea salt and mud are packed full of important and somewhat rare minerals, it has been touted around the world for its healing properties.  The 'commercial list' of benefits is quite extensive as they claim the minerals are anti-aging, helps skin rashes, detoxifies your body and even slims you (yeah right)!  But regardless of what has been commercialized, I will admit that the combination of mud and salt on your skin has an amazing feeling of exfoliating and smoothing - if only there were more do-it-yourself outdoor spas!

      I was able to go to the Dead Sea twice during my stay in Israel - the first one had so much build up that I was bound to be a bit disappointed.  Two things were done wrong: 1) We went in the late afternoon when it was still pretty hot outside - and to say the least the Dead Sea water is not 'refreshing' at all - it was like stepping into a salty hot-tub.  2) Our visit was right after a somewhat rugged hike where minor scrambling and bushwhacking offered better views, but left us with minor scratches and scrapes.  This is NOT a good idea for the salty sea - the sharp stinging of the salt hits you right away.  I kept on pretending that my friend stray was there to jokingly say 'beauty hurts' over and over again.  Why on earth do we have the idea in our head that if something stings it is probably working?!  Needless to say, we didn't really stay too long for this first visit.  The second one (the above pics with the mud) was strategically set with going late in the evening with no open wounds.... the winning combination;)

floating in the buoyant water~

The Wall

Separation Barrier, Apartheid Wall, 'Security' Fence, The Wall......... regardless of what name it is called by, its presence is undeniable in Israel. The first day I arrived in Jerusalem I remember saying "So that's it?! That is THE wall?" I can see it clearly on my daily walk to school - the massive concrete blocks adorned with razor and barbed wire.  It is a stark reminder of the ever-present 'us vs them' perception ingrained into this society. 

      The wall has served as an open canvas and thus a large protest banner on the Palestinian side.  The artist's graffiti can speak for itself....  

    

People always remark 'if only the walls could speak'..... when the real question is, if walls could speak - would we be able to listen?  For this wall does speak and the lives within which it surrounds are expressed through the images and the words that strive to be heard. The paint and the passion slowly seeping through the concrete cracks until the other side can see that it is just an open hand and a lost gaze that holds the paint and meets their gaze...