Dreams and reality

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams". Eleanor Roosevelt.

"Those who lose dreaming are lost". Aboriginal proverb.

"Your vision will become clear only when you look in your heart...who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens". Carl Jung.

"Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today". James Dean.

"You see things and say, 'Why?', but I dream of things that never were and say, 'Why not?'". George Bernard Shaw.

"Keep your dreams alive. Understand, to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination and dedication. Remember, all things are possible for those who believe". Gail Devers.

"Dreams are like stars...you may never touch them, but if you follow them they will lead you to your destiny."

"Don't be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams."

"There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other." Douglas H. Everett.

You know, I've been reading quotes like these all my adult life. Motivational sayings they call them and yet it feels like they've had little or no effect on me whatsoever! It's like I just don't quite believe in them. Don't get me wrong, I do believe in the power of people's dreams, the value of creating a vision and of setting goals to achieve it. It's just that, for me, all these sayings are so much fluff and I can only vaguely relate to them. I find them difficult to buy into for several reasons. For one thing, I don't think the individuals quoted are all talking about the same thing or even agree with each other. Some are talking about the dreams we have while sleeping as opposed to the dreams we formulate to work towards in life. For some these latter dreams are the ultimate direction in life while others seem to view them as a distraction. Also, despite the many Eastern quotes, I can't quite divest myself of the suspicion that the quotes, or at least the promotion of them, are the product of Western bourgois thinking. Such thinking includes the so-called Protestant work ethic; i.e. good people work hard 'til they drop! It also includes the concept of being someone; of being worthwhile, having goals in life, achieving things, etc.

Living here, we sometimes meet people who say they are "living the dream". This often begs the question; what was their dream? When we were younger we spent some time being Amway distributors. There was a lot of motivational stuff involved in being a distributor; events, books, tapes, seminars, conferences, etc. In many different ways, the same message was delivered again and again; dare to dream, believe in your dreams and hold onto them, work hard on them and they will be realised. I learned a lot, particularly from our upline leaders who are still good friends, but I never found simply focussing on dreams of targets or future lifestyles ever led to success with the business. There had to be something else, something that was missing. There is no doubt though that every foriegn national here who determined that they wanted to live in Greece has achieved that dream, however they did it. The one factor that they (or at least one person in every partnership) must have had, the one thing that was perhaps missing in our Amway experience, was belief. Belief (or lack of doubt) and confidence in what you are doing leads to achievement, barring any unforseen events preventing you. Later in life I experienced this truth many times in projects I initiated or was involved in, although none of these were about setting up in business which I think is either very difficult or I have a particular block about. In these experiences was I living the dream? Well, I suppose, for a short while, as each project was completed successfully, I lived the dream. Are we "living the dream" here in Greece? The answer to that is probably "yes" and "no".

We are living as close to the way we wanted and expected, given our particular circumstances, so in that sense we are living our dream. However, without wishing to judge other people negatively, some do appear to be living "The Dream"; that is, they have some kind of fixed concept of life in Greece, a bit like they are on a permanent holiday, and that's how they spend every day. Well, that's okay, if it's what they want. Many of them are retired and living on their pensions and perhaps would be doing simliar things wherever they were living. However, we have noticed  a destructive tendency with quite a few who will sit in a taverna or cafe all day, drinking. It's not for me; although we have escaped the pressures life in the UK, I still want to achieve things and to be creative.

Going back to the Aborigal quote; "Those who lose dreaming are lost", I'm not sure which sort of dreaming it refers to, but given that the Aborigines are practical as well spiritual people, I'd guess that it's talking about when we are sleeping and I agree with it. Recently I have been having regular and vivid dreams. Most mornings, when I wake up, I know I've been dreaming, even if I can't always remember the content. Quite often, though, I can remember what the dreams were about and ususally they relate directly to everyday life. The other day I realised what I'd been dreaming that night had been a sort of quest; I was searching for a past me - the kind of internal concept I used have about myself. This, I suppose, was a recognition of how I have changed. However, it made me realise that for the last few years in England I couldn't remember dreaming at all. I was doing a job I loved, but I didn't realise until later what kind of stress I'd been under. I thought I was coping okay. I didn't often take work home with me and I thought I was achieving the so-called work/life balance. When I became ill  I believed it was entirely due to the fears generated by planning the move here, but later it became clear that this was simply the 'final straw' of stress on top of all that I was doing. An example of how I hadn't got things right at work was that, whereas many of my colleagues would go out for lunch every day, I usually ate sandwiches, etc. while still sitting in front of my computer. Apart from not believing I could afford to eat out every day, I didn't see the point. I usually did something different to my normal work during lunchtime, which I thought was enough, but I didn't get away. In the evenings at home life was much the same most days; shopping, something to eat, quite a lot to drink and TV, except usually on a Friday we would go to the pub to eat. The only difference was when I was working on a show at the Nottingham Arts Theatre. Then I would be working so intensely that I'd get thoroughly exhausted, even though I had a great time. The realisation that I had lost dreaming is further proof of what I was doing to myself and I'm glad that I've got it back now.

By the way, I have a theory about TV in the UK and the damage it is doing to working people. The best programmes seem to be scheduled for later at night, just when those who have to get up for work in the morning should be going to bed. The temptation to watch them is  great and I think this is one of the reasons why many people are suffering from sleep deprivation. This in turn is leading to difficulties in coping with stress. Of course this is another symptom of wider changes happening in modern societies; a 24/7 lifestyle seems to be being promoted as a virtue rather than the health and safety danger that it is.

I think Carl Jung and others got it right by identifying the separate ideas of a vision and dreams. Wishes and dreams are the stuff out of which a concrete vision of a future achievement can be synthesised, providing that you truly believe in its possibility and how to go about it. Interestingly, there any number of personal planning tools out there that can help people focus on this process and and what to do to achieve their goals. These can enable people to make their dreams a reality. In my previous field of work, we had begun to use a range of person-centred planning tools to help people who have learning difficulties. Despite a focus on goal planning which usually set targets that professionals believed people needed to achieve and not ones that the people themselves wanted to achieve, people with learning difficulties have, for decades, only had unfulfilled dreams to live for. Person-centred planning tools try to turn this completely around by focussing on the person and his or her wishes. There are many of these tools, each varying in style for use in different situations. One which directly follows the idea of distilling concrete targets and plans from the persons wishes and dreams is called PATH (Planning Alternative Tomorrows with Hope). The process includes the use of a distinctive graphics format which helps focus the minds and include all those involved in supporting the individual:

When I did my training in this format each course member was helped to produce a PATH plan of one their own particular dreams. My plan was developed from our dream of living in Greece. Of course, producing a model plan on a course is not the same as creating and implementing a working plan, with all the supports required for the individual(s) concerned. The rudimentary plan I came away with hadn't involved the people that really mattered for the plan to work. Furthermore, my stress when it came to implementing the plan stemmed from a basic lack of belief in myself. When it came to achieving our dream I wasn't the strong one in the partnership at that time. This shows how important belief and confidence are for achieving dreams. Good clear planning can help build up belief and confidence. It ensures you know where you are going and how you will get there. Good planning is also important for developing the supports you will need to get there.

The quote above that most closely represents how I feel about achieving dreams is the one by Gail Devers. Often, when it's part of what you are about and what you do all the time, success appears to happen almost without trying too hard. Of course, all the dreaming and planning is still being done; it just seems to be easy. When it's something new or outside of your comfort zone that you are trying to achieve, it's a lot harder. It's particularly difficult when there are factors completely ouside your experience like a different culture, a different environment and unfamiliar social systems and institutions. And then there's the financial crisis....! Still, people are people wherever you are. Yes, there are differences in culture, in ways of thinking and methods of doing things, but we are all human and we all dream, one way or another.

Taxing Times

It is said that there's nothing certain except death and taxes. I suppose death is inevitable wherever you are, but here in Greece paying taxes seems to be a lot less certain. March/April is the time of year when those who must, need to prepare and file their tax returns. I think taxes are a bureaucratic nightmare no matter what country you live in. In the UK it has been simplified of late by the use of the internet, although if your finances are anything other than a simple record of earnings and expenses it's wise to get professional help. They are catching up rapidly in Greece as well; recently the government said that from this year certain people had to file on-line, but a third party, such as your accountant, couldn't do it for you unless you signed a form at the tax office. For a foreigner in Greece having an accountant is almost an absolute requirement. Apart from the fact that you are just not familiar with them, the rules are very very complex and the forms require a lot more than just a smattering of Greek. There are detailled instructions available courtesy of the Athens News book "Surviving Greek Bureaucracy", but I'm not sure how advisable it is do it for yourself, as you can be required to declare and may be liable for tax on almost anything here.
If finding anything and everything possible to tax is the main occupation of government, especially now, then avoiding paying tax is the national pastime. It's not unusual, as borne out by recent investigations, for highly paid professionals to declare incomes of less than €12,000 (the personal allowance here). Mind you, it's quite amazing what personal assets can be set against earnings for tax purposes. While the ownership of an expensive car, for example, will indicate (officially for tax purposes) a certain minimum income, the purchase and value of the car can be declared as an allowable expense. Although it benefits from tourism in the summer, we live in a fairly poor rural area. There's not much employment now; even the building trade which usually takes on Albanian stone masons and labourers is virtually at a standstill, and if it wasn't for the foreigners living here with their imported money the place might not survive in winter. Nevertheless, a high proportion of the local population drive around in 4x4s, pick-ups and other large cars. To be fair, the rest have either just a moped or no vehicle whatsoever.
Given the current economic crisis the Greek government has been trying to stop tax evasion and has introduced many new taxes to raise revenue. Some of the schemes seem a bit cumbersome and bizarre, others tend to add to the bureaucracy that is at the heart of Greece's problems. Last year they introduced a requirement that taxpayers save and produce receipts from their household expenditure; a certain percentage according to their income. The idea was to make sure businesses actually issued receipts from their tills which, by the way, are registered by the government and therefore officially record takings. However, from the tax payers point of view, surely, if you want to declare that you only earn a certain amount then you only produce receipts for the appropriate percentage of your declared income and no more. Of course, if you install a swimming pool or buy a €70,000 car then the tax man might find you out!

As foreigners who were buying a house we have had to file annual tax returns since we started. Our lawyer found us an accountant to handle this; only they haven't for the last two years! They did the return for the first year when we bought the land, but they've not done the subsequent ones. We have given them all the information about the money we brought into the country and paid Vasilis, our builder, but he (or rather, his wife) hasn't yet supplied us or them with the receipts for the build. Failure to file a return incurs a €50 fine each time. When I talked to Vasilis about this he told me not to worry; it will all be sorted when they formally hand over the house to us, but it's advantageous to us and to him, particularly in the current climate, to delay this as long as possible because of the taxes and other payments that become due. He assured me that he's been doing this for 30 years and it will all be fine. How long he can wait  before handing over the property is linked to the electricity supply. Your house can be on "builder's electric" (power supplied via the builder) for up to 3 years from the start of the build or longer if the builder can demonstrate that the property is not finished (I wondered why some things just hadn't been done). The electric company (ΔΕH) does all the inspections for tax purposes and levys the taxes, and can demand the house be finalised and the electric transferred over so that the owner becomes the direct customer. By the way, electricity bills in Greece also include your TV licence and the equivalent of council tax. We await ΔΕH sending us a letter some time in the future for all this to happen. Meanwhile our tax returns are not being done.

Now I realise that you may feel that we've got ourselves into a risky situation with our builder. And, indeed, we know of other people who have ended up in court, enduring long battles with their builders, because things haven't been done right. Some builders do like to settle everything directly as soon as they've completed the build, but they seem to be in the minority. Apparently our situation is about the norm for here. Although this approach is strange to us, it is legal and we do still trust Vasilis, even though he can be very elusive and evasive. The biggest niggles with him are difficulties in contacting him, things not being done and, most of all, the issue of communication. He only ever tells you what he thinks you need to hear. He's quite parochial and protective of his customers (so long as he's still friends with them) and doesn't seem to realise that we want to know and understand everything that concerns us. 

Not being Greek it seems that some form of tax being charged to us is inevitable, but not just yet. By then we may have learned how to be a bit more Greek and will have found a way to avoid paying it.

Cats in the Mani

All over Greece there are cats. It's famous for them. The tourist trade exploits foreigners' love of cats in calendars, postcards and all manner of souvenirs. Tourists come every year and feed them; outside (and inside) their apartments, in the streets and in the tavernas. Feral and semi-domestic cats are reknowned for hanging about at the tables for tidbits from customers' plates and the taverna and restaurant owners tolerate them, encourage them, even. It's the same here in the Mani, at least in the coastal towns and villages. But what do you think becomes of the cats outside of the main season? Many of the eating establishments close for the winter and the cats have fewer places to beg food from. They may become nuisances at ones that stay open and they are likely to find themselves in the hands of someone who thinks they are doing the community a favour by killing them.
To be fair quite a lot of people here look after cats, after a fashion. That is to say they will feed them and give them shelter, but other forms of care that you and I might take for granted are unlikely to be administered or may even be against their principles. This is where Greek thinking is often utterly illogical. Take, for instance, the idea of spaying cats. I may be wrong, but I don't think Orthodox christians are ordinarily opposed to contraception. However, when it comes to their animals they will not have them done. Perhaps it's the cost. During January and February the tomcats go calling and the females get pregnant. In the Spring the females give birth to their kittens who are are then promptly taken by the cats 'owners' and drowned (because there are too many cats) or they may be dumped for others to look after or to fend for themselves. Dumped kittens, even feral ones, cannot last long on their own and will often be taken by truly wild animals such as foxes. In fact, if a mother cat is able to hide and try to raise her brood away from human intervention, this will always be a danger and she is likely to lose most of them (which begs the question, why do humans interfere?). Kittens taken from their mother too early are also at risk of fatal diseases as they will have been unable to build up their immune system. Getting pregnant season after season is not good for the health of a female cat. And many cats get pregnant more than once in a season because losing their kittens means they can come on heat again much faster. When it comes to having tomcats spayed there is an almost total macho resistance to interfering with their 'natural' life.
Another example of illogical thinking goes like this: 'You shouldn't feed feral cats because they need to be hungry so that they keep down vermin.' Now this is nonsense - cats will catch and kill mice, rats, voles, etc and eat them, but not enough to keep them healthy and if they aren't healthy they can't catch anything. But because they believe the cats don't kill enough vermin (presumeably because people feed them), they put down poison instead. What happens then is the cats eat the poisoned creatures and may die themselves. Some folk don't bother with any of the justifications; they simply put down poisoned meat to kill the cats directly. It isn't just feral cats that get killed, of course; it's also people's pets. Coupled with all the kittens being exterminated, this should mean there's a reducing population of cats, but on average that's not the case. Someone is not playing by the rules. Somehow enough kittens and adult cats are surviving to keep the tourist trade alive...just!
When we first came to Stoupa we discovered that many of the feral cats were being fed. An English woman had established a number of feeding stations and a routine to look after the cats that come to them. She is supported by several helpers and donations from people both here and in the U.K. No doubt she is regarded by some of the locals as a bit odd. However, Greeks' attitudes to animals in general (except perhaps for farm animals) and domestic pets in particular have changed for the better over the last couple of decades or so and continue to improve. City dwellers (but also some people in rural areas) are more likely to keep pets and look after them well. In Athens and other main cities there are numerous organisations established to protect and look after street cats and dogs. Wildlife programmes on the TV are becoming more popular. Having said that, Greek men are still noted for going out and shooting anything and everything that moves. And that includes domestic and feral cats and dogs, paticularly if they feel they might spoil their hunting. Neighbours of ours, a Greek couple, recently found their two pet dogs shot dead and left by their wall in a plastic bag! Admittedly they did let them roam free.

After being here for a while Sue discovered that there was a feeding station for cats at Pantazi beach, a 10 minute walk from our house. This was established and supported by an older Welsh couple and to cut a long story short we were eventually involved (against my will at the time) in regular feeding. At the same time we tended to a couple of donkeys, but that's another story. There are usually around 15 cats, give or take one or two irregular visitors, who come to the boxes for food. The boxes, made from old chests and scrap wood, provide shelter for those that have nowhere else. Clearly, though, a number of the cats do have homes to go back to. We have settled into a routine where the older couple feed in the morning and we feed in the evening, although in summer they really only need a big meal once a day.

They might be feral or semi-domestic, but each cat has a unique appearance and personality and between us we have named each one accordingly. The current alpha female is Momma, although the others are always vying; there's Fluffy Mavro (she's a black long haired cat), Sissy, Bandetta, Aggi, Beauty, Phoebe, who is so small she can be mistaken for a kitten, and Trixie, who visits from the taverna around the corner. Many of the males think they are the alpha male particularly HRH (George 2), Al (Scarface), Hector and Shadow/Valentino, who is a very elegant long-haired cat. There's also Quentin, Georgie (Yiorgo), Cookie, JBS (Jerry-Bonz Senior because he's similar looking to young JB who sadly died from Feline Distemper last year), but the star of the feeding station is Marmalatha [Μαρμαλάδα - which actually means jam], so-named because he's a lovely ginger and white colour. Marmalatha was brought to the station as a kitten last year by Stefano, an Italian man who was living, at the time, in Sedona which is a village half way up in the mountains. Stefano is thought by many to be quite mad (he, himself thinks he might have a brain tumour); he certainly seems eccentric and over the top in his opinions and behaviour. He claimed that Marmalatha was in danger from the 'crazy mafia' of Sedona and brought him to the beach to save him. Because he has always been handled, Marmalatha is easily the most approachable of the group and can be picked up and cuddled; in fact, he will ask you to, although less often now as he has got older and become a fully fledged adult tom. We had hoped to arrange to get him spayed (via a street cat programme), but Stefano, who is Catholic, went wild at the idea and opposed it vehemently. He says all the Greek people are crazy, but this is one opinion he seems to have in common with them. Other cats have come and gone, but the core group still regular wait at the boxes to be fed. When we call they all come running to meet us; it's quite amazing to see!

The boxes themselves have undergone various moves and changes. Originally placed next to the bank of the gorge by the road bridge, they were vandalised soon after we had tidied and painted them early last Summer. We assumed that this had been at the instigation of the beach bar owner who didn't want the cats near his bar. So we moved them to next to the path on the other side of the gorge. This path leads up to our house and also to the villages on the hillsides. As part of the general cleaning up of the area we have now been asked to move them to a more secluded area off the path. This is fine as we think it will benefit the cats as well. We are going to take this opportunity to use better boxes because some of the current ones are falling apart. This will happen just as soon as the local council (δήμος) clear away the accumulated rubbish.

Spring has arrived and soon, and throughout Summer, we can expect people to dump kittens at the boxes despite our requests for them not to. If we are lucky we may find homes for them, if not we may sadly experience more dying or just disappearing in the night. We have to be strong: The boxes are meant to be just a feeding station, not a cats home, even if some of our core group do stay there most of the time, and we do not have the resources to do much else.

You may think there can be no genetic difference between feral cats and the average domestic moggie found in the UK, but our experience of rescuing and taking in a kitten dumped at the boxes has shown us how different they are. Although our kitten is slowly settling now, her behaviour has always been far more wild than anything we've experienced before. Jessy, who we brought from the UK has certainly found her quite stressing! It's the same with the male kitten our next door neighbours adopted and when the two get together it can be bedlam; we have to hide or glue down everything! Like the people of the Mani, the cats have adapted to the environment and landscape which, despite its beauty, can be tough and unforgiving.

How in hell did I get here? (Part Two)

After publishing Part One I started to feel that perhaps I'd been self-indulgent in airing all this stuff. I want to complete it now, but hopefully this part will be more balanced and then I can get back to the original purpose of writing about our experiences here.
This area, the Mani, where we live, despite any comments I've made previously, is absolutely beautiful; the scenery is stunning, for the most part the people, both Greeks and foriegn nationals, are really friendly and supportive, the weather is...well, you know what the weather's like; and did I mention the scenery? Yes, it can be difficult, at first, to acclimatise to everything, but it's hard to imagine that anyone could regret or become angry at being here. Yet, I did. I couldn't see all the wonderful positive stuff, or rather when I did it wasn't enough to overcome my depression. The difficulty still, is that all those negative feelings are attached to my memory of the last year or so. Rather than therapeutic now, it's quite hard reviewing the things I wrote before. It's also, I realise, quite unfair on Sue, who has had, and still has, to put up with me and the negatives that, in particular, I attached to her! I doubt if anyone finds moving to another country easy and Sue has had her own struggles with that (which I totally and selfishly ignored) as well as dealing with a problem partner. This is how my log, written about a year ago, continued:
"As I said earlier, I started to become panicky when Sue was researching houses in Greece - the closer she got to firm ideas the more panicky I got. Recognition that this was me becoming ill is, of course, all in hindsight. At the time I tried to ignore it. At the airport on the way to Greece to view some houses, they had introduced the new security arrangements where you couldn't carry more than 100ml of liquid in your hand luggage. Sue had contact lens solutions and other stuff on her and, until forced to, wouldn't accept she couldn't carry them. This came on top of discovering our luggage was overweight and we'd had to pay an extra £25 (£5 per kilo over). I don't exactly remember how I behaved, but Sue tells me she was frightened by it; I know I was agitated and angry. Sue, of course, was in shock and grief over her father and, realistically, so was I. We really should not have been going!
In Stoupa, where we stayed, I started to get panic attacks; not the sort that people usually describe and feel like heart attacks, but severe agitation, inability to sleep, wanting to run and hide, not being able to be still or relax. We spent a day with the agent, looking at various old houses, but eventually settling on a new build, involving extending our budget and drawing on savings. From Sue's point of view, it seemed to me, there was no option of not buying. You can see why I was stressed. Fortunately I finally recognised that I was not well and determined to see my doctor as soon as I got back home. He was very helpful and prescribed Sertraline which when it eventually kicked in was very good. I spent quite a while off work until I felt strong enough to return.
The side effects of Sertraline, while minor, were a bit disconcerting; I put on weight and got twitchy legs at night. I continued to sleep badly, but I'm not sure if that was caused by the illness or the medication. When I say badly I would sleep for 4, 5 or sometimes 6 hours and then be awake and unable to go back to sleep, with all sorts going round and round in my head. I bought a Paul McKenna book on stress with a self-hypnosis CD in it and I tried some of his techniques, particularly focussing on breathing and counting backwards. However, whereas during hypnosis it's okay to let your thoughts drift, when you want to sleep it gets in the way! Eventually going back to work was the best therapy, although it was very hard at first.
My doctor also recommended counselling and gave me some contacts, but I've done counselling (for stress) before and I understand the process, so I didn't feel I could cope with or commit to it. Maybe that was a mistake - I'm not sure.
By the time I returned to work we had sorted out the mortgage and I think we had made the first payment (or it was soon after). So it was arranged; we were committed, everything was under control. I could put it to the back of my mind for a bit. That helped, except it was aways there and every so often the fear and anxiety erupted and I was a pig to live with. Of course, everyone around us was always eager for news of the build and our plans. I was forever being told how lovely and exciting it all was, yet I really could only feel the fear, the insecurity we faced: I knew that employment prospects in Greece would be poor. I had a good job in the U.K. I investigated possibilities for retirement or sabbaticals, but none were available to me. So the prospect was giving up the job and going with what savings we had.

The one capital item which we wanted to sell was our VW Karmann Ghia, hoping to raise about £8K. I started to advertise it early in 2009, but only managed to sell it at a much reduced price in October, just weeks before we were due to leave the country. With the economic crisis the market for such cars is well down. The other idea for maintaining a safety net in the U.K. and realising more capital after the recession (if we ever survive this one) was to rent the house. To do this, we knew, would require some improvements. In 2008 I completed fitting a new bathroom. It took about 5 or 6 months. Then we started planning to upgrade the kitchen, including fitting an oven which we had always managed without. Work continued well, especially the new graphic facilitation training I had developed - very enjoyable.
After finishing the kitchen in early 2009 we started to do the decorating we needed to be able to rent the house out. It would also include getting a new window, finishing the airing cupboard, finding a way to finish off the chimney breast and put in some flooring in the back bedroom. We started at the top of the house with the attic. Being an attic it was full of rubbish and accumulated memorabilia. A lot of this was boxed up and put in the front room or cellar (where stuff started to get damp - lousy summer!!!). We had to leave the computer and table and work around it. We also worked around the bookshelves, although I think we eventually gave this away..............." I stopped writing here. Coincidentally (or perhaps it wasn't) it was at this point in the story that the pressure got to me and my illness erupted again. The main trigger was the inability of Sue and I to agree on when I should leave work; Sue saw it as setting a goal and me committing to it, whereas I wanted to be sure we would be ready so that I could have an income right up to when we were about to leave the country. Money inevitably played a large part in the stress we were both under. We needed enough to get to Greece and survive for a while and I felt we also needed to clear our outstanding debts like credit cards, but we clearly weren't able to raise what we hoped from selling the car and that wouldn't have been enough anyway! We definitely were not leaving Jessy, our cat, behind; that alone, to transport her by air, was nearly £1000. If we'd known then what we know now we probably would have invested in a camper van and driven here. I decided (without consulting Sue!) that we needed to borrow some extra money, preferably very cheaply. So that meant family. At first I asked my mother which upset my brother and sisters considerably and upset Sue because she was adamant that we could manage without it. I was certain that we couldn't. In the end, my brother, Andy, offered to lend us the money. Sue relented, I think, because of the effect the worry was having on me. However, she has not forgiven Andy for the conditions he set and for asking us to sign a contract with him; she feels that he unfairly has a stake in both our properties. He would describe the arrangement as a safeguard in case anything went wrong; I couldn't see that it made that much difference - we would still owe him the money.
Even though part of me didn't want to, I eventually handed in my notice at work. Later on, I negotiated a month's extension. I remember having various conversations with people, expressing my fears, and my stress must have been quite obvious even if there was nothing they could have done to help. In August 2009 it became evident that I was ill again; I went off sick from work and never returned.
I went back to the doctors and this time, because I expressed some reservations about the side effects of Sertraline, I was put on Certalopram which works in a similar way; inhibiting the loss of serotonin from the brain. However, instead of putting on weight, this time I started to lose weight. I also found it difficult, whether because of my condition or the medication, to relax or to focus in social situations.
There was still so much to do in the house, but now I was at home all day I could work on it. Looking back, I doubt if we could have got it all done if I'd still been working, but then again if I had not been ill maybe it would have been easier to focus and plan. I certainly didn't take sick leave so I could work on the house, but it helped. The attic, the stairway from top to bottom of the house and the back bedroom which included fitting an architrave, plasterboarding the chimney breast, adapting various pieces of wood and board to complete the airing cupbard, having a new window fitted (twice - there was a fault in one of the original units) and laying a laminated floor all had to be done. Then, we had to pack into boxes everything we wanted to take and throw or give away everything else. This involved  hiring  skips, getting charities to take away furniture and, it seemed like, at least 100 trips to the many charity shops in Arnold. This carried on even after the international removers had take all that we'd decided was going to Greece (well, not quite all; we missed one or two items and couriered them separately). I've no idea how we did it!
The arrangements for actually getting to Greece were relatively simple. We booked our flights in conjunction with Jessy's so that we took her to the cattery near Heathrow on our way to Gatwick and then picked her up at Athens the next day. We then had to coordinate her getting check-ups and the necessary injections and treatments prior to leaving (the last one has to be done within 48 hours of travelling); we'd already done the groundwork earlier in the year of getting her microchipped and purchasing her passport. To get to Gatwick we eventually found a car hire company that did the one way journey without a massive extra charge.
Throughout this process my mood and behaviour varied from robotic to completely manic, from anti-social to dangerous, and though the medication helped, this continued well into our first year here. My inner feelings and outward behaviours frequently led to blazing rows with Sue where she justifiably threatened to end our relationship. At one time, I confess, I experimented with increasing the dosage of Certalopram I was taking; it made me quite happy and agreeable for a while, but I recognised that it was unreal and gradually lowered it again. As I explained before, I eventually felt able to wean myself off it, but there are still times when I can be irrational and manic and unbearable, though, hopefully, these are getting fewer and further between.
We've lived here for 16 months now and we've got to know people and begun to find a place for ourselves in the community. The sad thing is that, if I hadn't been so ill and shut off, we may have been able to do it much quicker. Still, a friend of mine, who moved to France a few years ago, says it takes up to 3 years to really integrate and understand how everything works. So perhaps we're not doing too bad.

How in hell did I get here? (Part One)

I wrote the following about a year ago. I didn't finish it and it goes on a bit which may be why I didn't carry on writing at the time. Apart from the odd correction to punctuation or grammar, the italicised text is exactly how I wrote it. However, I didn't have an entirely healthy state of mind at the time; despite what it says about also being for others, I was writing it for myself and the selfishness that comes with the illness may be apparent. As Sue has pointed out to me, some of the people involved in the story who may read this could/will be offended by things in the original text. So, I have edited it, adding in and changing bits for clarification (non-italics) or removing some of the text and, as it's quite long, I've split it into two parts. This also gave me the opportunity to add in some more recent observations.
"I decided to write this journal / log partly as therapy, paradoxically after I began to feel much better, and partly to record the experience for myself and others of living with an anxiety disorder and living through those events that either caused or triggered the illness. As you may tell from that tortuous sentence there are many questions posed and raised by anxiety.
One of the first questions I keep coming back to is whether this sort of illness is a learned behaviour. Did I, for example, learn to panic because of something my parents did or did not do when I was a child? I was taught early on in my professional career that all behaviour is learned. People tend to see behaviour as just behaving without recognising or understanding its emotional or cognitive content. A 'panic attack' is very real to someone experiencing one; the fear, the thoughts, the physical needs (often to run or hide or both) and the physical experience cannot be easily denied or rationalised. So when did I learn to panic and why did it only materialise as a serious disorder later in life when going through a major life-changing experience? After all, this was not the first major change in my life, even if it was perhaps the biggest and most significant.
Actually, I know some of the answers. Truthfully, there's always been times when I've been nervous and slightly panicky. Everyone's the same, right? Well, maybe. There's always been times when I've put off doing something until I felt right about it. I've always been cautious about money and decisions. I've usually felt more secure in employment rather than risking self-employment. As a young man I was very insecure about talking to women and I think I've continued to be unsure about relationships of all kinds, although a lot of that is about communication skills.
So what was the major life-changing experience? Well, we emigrated from th U.K. to Greece. I don't particularly like using the word 'emigrate' (and all its forms); it doesn't seem to quite apply to moving within Europe now. To me people emigrate to Australia or Canada or anywhere further afield, but perhaps that's just me expressing insecurity in another way. Actually the change and the anxiety started with first steps. I said to Sue (partner/wife), after my first visit to Greece in 1987, that it might be nice to live there. This idea developed into a plan for the future. Whenever we holidayed in Greece we'd look at each place and assess its potential, how much we liked it and what we might do there. One thing I always fancied was trying to establish myself as an artist.
After the mortgage on our house was paid in 2005, Sue started seriously to look at houses in Greece. She says she did this for me, as I had never done anything seriously about planning a move. But things had changed for me; in 2002 I moved from a job I was stale in to an exciting new role. Despite the usual stresses and problems that go with any job, I enjoyed this role very much. Sue started to spend a lot of time on the internet researching estate agents and property. The closer she got to choosing an area and agent, the more worried and panicky I got. Her ideas were based on carefully checking who she could trust and a price based on re-mortgaging our U.K. house. We discussed selling it, but thought that we ought to keep it for a while in case things didn't work out and we had to move back.
My panicky feelings were probably exacerbated by stress and hard work I was putting into a part-qualification over the latter part of 2006 into early 2007. Also in 2005 my father had died and maybe I hadn't (or haven't yet) dealt with this properly. I also felt, although I know it's not true, that Sue was not involving me in the planning; actually I was avoiding involvement because all I wanted to say was "stop, I don't want to do this". And yet, the idea of living in Greece and getting away from Britain still attracted me, so I went along with it despite feeling that I had no control over the process. Ultimately, the source of my anxiety was stress; a perceived lack of control over events."

I know I was expressing and acting out my stress and anxiety at work. My colleagues must have found some of my behaviour quite strange and challenging. One thing I did was to do some odd drawings on the office whiteboard. It started out with doing some characatures of colleagues and (borrowed) one-liners just for fun, but following some political upheavals and questionable management approaches I began doing some satirical stuff. Actually they were quite creative (well, I think so), but also quite bizarre and in hindsight a real indicator of my state of mind. I took some photos of one on my phone so see for yourself:

"So, we set about applying for a mortgage - one which would allow us to rent the house out when we left - and planning a trip to Stoupa in the South Peloponnese to view some properties in our price range. Sue had, for some time, conversed by email with an agent she felt was okay (actually she had fully researched all the agents and knew this one was okay). Then...Two weeks before we were due to go, Sue's father (Don) died suddenly. Perhaps we should have cancelled our trip, but Sue's mother insisted that Don would have wanted us to go ahead. It was all a great shock. In hindsight...I don't think any of us could have been thinking entirely straight (I certainly wasn't); some things were perhaps not questioned or thought through properly. To my mind at this time...it was all wrong. (Maybe that's me feeling that at this moment as I write - I'm not feeling as good as I did when I started to write the log. This is one of the difficulties of anxiety disorder; identifying what is real or appropriate in my attitude).
The reason I'm not feeling as good as I was is that I tried to reduce my medication by just a little bit (a phased withdrawal). It seems that reducing it by even the smallest amount results in negative physical feelings and anxious thoughts. I know it's just the medication causing it; nothing has particularly changed otherwise and I should be able to work through it until I settle again. However, it will probably make me bad tempered and nasty to Sue and is contrary to a doctor's advice. Still I do want to get off the medication; there are other effects I don't like such as weight loss, poor sleep and twitchy limbs. I've upped my intake again and hopefully when I'm settled I can try again, even more slowly next time." My second attempt, reducing the intake even more slowly, was eventually successful and I am no longer taking or feel that I need to take anti-depressants...touch wood! It was a slow process with many days when I was a complete bastard. I can't say that the negative feelings or behaviours have completely gone away, or will ever, but I'm much calmer and in control now. However, all this was after the the second and arguably more devastating eruption of my illness and we haven't even got to my account of the first one yet. This is all covered in Part Two.

This is Tzokeika

Welcome to Tzokeika (pronounced Jo-kay-ka) or Tzokeika San Basilios to give it its full Greco-Italian name. Conceived, designed and built by Vasilis Tzokas and family, all the houses in the settlement are traditional in style, based on medieval architecture similar to that found at Mystras near Sparti, with hand-cut stone walls, but also having reinforced concrete platforms and frameworks to protect them from earthquake damage. The houses in these photographs, in the central area of the settlement, all belong to the family and are show houses with additional features that potential buyers might want to include in their builds. (If you want to see more photographs go to http://www.greek-houses.gr) All the bought houses are situated in the wider surrounding area and further up the hill. The central area and the houses were put to spectacular use last summer when Vasilis' son Thanasis married Serena. As you can see, the meadow area in the middle was lawned over and was used to host all the tables for the meal. There's also a small concreted area where a jazz band performed and everyone could dance the night away to a variety of musical styles provided by a disco. The whole area was illuminated by coloured lights strung around the olive trees. Prior to all this the couple were married in a traditional Orthodox ceremony in their little private church. It was a wonderful atmospheric evening which was just as well since all the residents had watched the lawn area being constantly watered for about three months over the summer while we were frequently without; very frustrating!

Now if you were interested in having a house built in this area I would recommend Tzokas Architects to you. Not that their houses are perfect; none of them seem to be around here, but they are one of the better builders. There are many horror stories about houses here. Most of them are about how they cope with winter weather. Because winter is so short, the builders don't seem to bother too much about whether the houses leak when it rains or how warm they are. Insulation seems to be a minimum to meet regulations rather than a feature and the houses seem to be designed to let water out rather than stop water getting in. I suspect the so-called traditional builds are worse than modern houses with traditional styling, although the latter are not immune to problems. Originally stone houses were built of thick stone walls with mud mortar and when it rained water seeped in, but drained down to the ground before getting inside. With cement mortar, if it gets in, water tends to follow tiny tracks right through to the interior. The only answer is to coat the walls with waterproofing solution, but this needs to be done every year to combat gaps occurring due to earth tremors. Because the sea is close, the air in winter is always damp. If your house catches the sun adequately this dries most of it, but there will always be some rooms that need some heating to dry them. Also, at night time in winter, it can get quite cold, so you would think good insulation would be included as a feature, especially as everyone is aware of global warming. But no; sometimes I think most Greeks don't believe global warming is real, or else it has nothing to do with them, and yet they can see the climate changing. In a country where the dumping of rubbish anywhere and everywhere is endemic, a high level of environmental conciousness is a lot to expect. It doesn't help that the country lacks financial resources at the moment and that the environment wasn't the appropriate priority in the past. Things are changing; I think the government is trying and there are local community groups fighting for change, even here in the Mani.

There are about 20 permanent residents at Tzokeika with a few others in other Tzokas houses in the surrounding area plus as many again who come regularly for short or longer stays in the other houses. Vasilis and his wife also regularly stay in their house here. The expanded population usually occurs in the spring, summer and autumn periods, but some come for winter breaks as well and have experienced the full force of a Greek winter. A week or so back, as well as the normal wind, rain, thunder and lightning, we had hail the size of marbles; now that was very noisy on our open beamed roof. At one point we were worried that it might break a tile or two, but it didn't. Afterwards there were piles of ice in the gardens and on the beach! All the residents get on well and are very supportive of one another. We have found that community support is quite strong, both amongst immigrants/ex-pats and within the local Greek population. So, as well as within our little community, we are gathering many new friends in the wider area. Obviously getting to know non-English speaking people is more difficult (my Greek is only very basic and I know no German), but English is spoken by many. Despite an initial reluctance on our part to be over-involved in the ex-pat community (desiring integration into Greek life), getting to know those who've done it before us and learning from them is essential. Besides in the winter, particularly, 'foreigners' are the majority of the population here. There are some well developed community organisations. The main ex-pat one is Parea Sti Mani (Friends in the Mani) with a good web site; www.parea-sti-mani.com . Closely associated with them is a local Greek environmental, mountain rescue and fire fighting group called GAIA. They provide volunteer services to supplement official organisations and are doing a great job.

Since we've been here I've done a number of drawings for Vasilis, mainly of herbs to be associated with each of his own houses. He's had keyring fobs made for four of them and has said he will want more. He has also talked of me illustrating a calendar for Tzokeika. These will probably be pen and wash illustrations. I've done some others you've probably seen already, but if not, here are some of them:

What's this all about then?

I've been vaguely aware of blogs and blogging for ages; people's on-line diaries and general dribble for all to see, but until recently I hadn't seen their potential to inform, connect, promote and proselytize. I started a blog last October to try to promote graphic facilitation and work I'd done in that field, but I haven't really got past writing basic information. Recently, however, I've been inspired by a blog a friend did of her trip to India and how she linked it into her Facebook posts. I also read somewhere about authors writing stories on-line or using blogs for research by getting feedback from people following them.

When Sue and I moved to Greece (and for quite a long time before) I really wasn't well, mentally that is. I'm a lot better now, but not entirely together. One of the things Sue suggested I do was write down how I was feeling regularly - sort of therapeutic writing - especially when I was very depressed or manic. Well I did some of that on paper, but not in a blog. As I eventually shared with friends on Facebook, I realised I could be expressing some of my thoughts and feelings on-line and  I did write a few comments on my page. However, I'm not like some people who can share all sorts of stuff several times a day. I haven't made a regular habit of using Facebook like that. Mind you, it's fascinating to read what others do write.

Learning to live in Greece (I can't speak for other countries) involves major culture-shock. Now, that may seem like a bit of a cliche, but there are two sides to this. The first revolves around how you personal feel about that change in your life. Sue and I had had this plan to live in Greece since 1988 and we told everyone, even though we didn't do much about it. The long-term idea was that we needed to get some kind of security by paying off the mortgage on our house before we could seriously contemplate leaving the UK. In the meantime we visited Greece as often as we could, going to different parts each time. But, also in the meantime, life doesn't stand still. I moved on in my work, albeit quite slowly. We and everyone we know got older and in particular older relatives, our parents, etc., reached the later years of their lives. Our standard of living gradually improved over this time as well and life became more and more 'comfortable'.  

So, I think gradually I went into denial of us ever actually moving and was less and less inclined to want to move. Sue on the other hand, saw the whole idea as my dream that eventually must be fulfilled. Although she loved her relationships with her clients, work for Sue was getting physically harder all the time, so she saw a time when she would need to give it up. I, on the other hand, got a job in 2002 that I thoroughly enjoyed. What's more, I was good at it! I put a lot into the first year, eventually establishing a settled routine. Then, as the main role got easier, I got more involved in additional stuff. Looking back on it, I didn't really give myself much breathing space in the main role, never mind anything else, and no-one really recognised this. 

Eventually, the mortgage was paid off and Sue started to look seriously at how and when we were going to move. That's when I began to lose the plot; not obviously at first, but when Sue started researching into buying a house here I kind of closed up and began to panic. Other events contributed; my father had a stroke and was immediately mentally disabled. Over a period of about 5 years he became more and more dependant and eventually died in a nursing home in 2005. The final straw, in terms of my mental health, was when Sue's father died suddenly just prior to us coming to look for a house. And, of course, Sue was totally devastated. Well more of this, perhaps, in other posts except to note that when we finally moved here I wasn't exactly predisposed to being here; here I was in 'paradise' and I was screaming in agony and making everyone else's life a misery too!! Sue, on the other hand, held onto the dream.

The other side to the culture shock is the more obvious one. Greece is often seen as this easy going, laid-back country with beautiful scenery, friendly inhabitants and a rather complicated, but exotic language. Well, the scenery is outstanding (despite all the rubbish dumped everywhere), the people are friendly and the language does have lots of very long words written with a different alphabet. But, as the current economic crisis has revealed, Greeks are actually far from laid-back and have modes of thinking and behaving that are, at best, somewhat self-centred and, at worst, utterly bizarre (to the more Western mind, anyway). Dealing with the language barrier and trying to understand how to get things done could drive a person hastely back to the UK, where everything is relatively easy. Actually, there is a third, but similar element and that's the thinking and behaviours of ex-pats!

So, I'm going to try to describe all these things and my thoughts on them in my posts here and I would welcome any comments or discussions that you might like to contribute. Because I didn't do this from when we first came to live here, I'm hoping it wont read like a boring diary. I may transcribe some of my 'therapeutic writings' for future posts, but mostly I want to make each post about a separate subject. So why is it called the 'Tzokeika' Diaries? Because that's where we live.