Monday, March 20


I’m a people watcher. For me, there’s nothing better than sitting in a a café and watching those passing you by, those sitting near you. You see loneliness, arguments, love and sometimes intimacy, anxiety and more, just passing by your life. And you learn about culture, and tradition, too.
Sitting in The Village cafenio yesterday evening I sipped my wine as I watched the (mainly old) men sit in groups or individually, sipping ouzo and chipero, and smoking. Many had finished what would have been a hard days work in the olive fields and many looked tired and very worn. Some were talking amongst themselves and gesticulating, no doubt arguing about the finer point on harvesting, or the latest per kilo prices from the distributor, or the acidity levels of the olives this season, perhaps politics, or inflation; and then, I noticed they were mainly talking about what was playing on the new 45 inch flat screen plasma TV screen in the corner - football, I guessed, as I couldn’t see the picture from my table. I watched through the haze of smoke as they enjoyed it, some slapping themselves on the backs, others laughing, talking animatedly between themselves, until I finished my wine and, leaving the table, was now able to see what they were watching. It wasn’t football. It was the Fashion TV Channel on satellite, and they were watching, in a show live from Miami Beach, designer fashions as they strutted their stuff.
That’s progress, I guess.


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