Changes
To finish off this week, I was trying to think of other things that have changed over the last 24 years. As I said, change happens slowly, so you tend not to see it as much as someone who pops in once a year. I’m thinking as I go, so this is in no logical order…
In 2003, when working in the harbour, I seem to remember counting three day-trip boats a day, sometimes only two, maybe one more at busier times. The last time I bothered to stop and count them, a few weeks ago, I counted 13, and a couple of them do two trips a day, including one that comes for the evening. There is a new port now, and a wider road in places, but not always where there needs to be a wider road, some different shops/businesses, of course, though many still are as they were. What’s now the performance area was a car park, the Nautical Museum has gone, there are far more vehicles than there were, including tour buses that have replaced the open truck trips across the island. Even a new beach or two has opened up, as has access to several hinterland churches. The Symi Visitor newspaper has sadly long gone, but so has another publication that brought Symi nothing much more than bad feeling, though the Symi magazine (published since the 1930s and posted down from Athens, mail order only) still arrives with those who know about it and order it. The loudspeaker system that used to announce everything from bad weather to lost property is no longer heard, the post office is no longer in the police building, and we finally have a permanent medical clinic, though no permanent doctors. My first visit to a Symi doctor was to see ‘the Russian Doctor’ who worked out of the old pharmacy, which is now, finally, an open museum.
Beaches are now crowded with fancy sunbeds. More ruins have come into use, though the majority look to be seldom-used holiday homes of the glossy magazine class, and where there were one or two traditional hotels, there are now top-range places at top-range prices. There are more slopes built over the steps so mopeds can access more of the village, though only one more rubbish collection point, so many people still have to walk a long way to deposit their rubbish. There’s not been as much rubbish burnt in ruins as there was, which is good, though there is still no recycling. We now have a wind turbine as a monument to an effort that didn’t last long, and I’ve not seen it turn for many years, and we have the desalination plant for water, though still not enough water to be self-sufficient, and the water boat has been seen docking again as it used to do.
Prices of everything have gone up, of course, though some shops and bars have managed to keep some drinks reasonable; ouzo and coffee prices haven’t changed that much, going from €1.50 an ouzo to €2.50 in some places, and a glass of wine at Rainbow, for example, has taken 24 years to go from €1.50 to €3.00. It is still the case, though, that you don’t plan a special meal at home; you decide your menu on the day depending on what you can find in the shops.
In the height of summer, you used to see people queuing to get into ‘Georgio’s’, and people sitting on the steps of the village square because all the tables were full at both bars. Now, those sights are rarer, but you have to book for most restaurants or be disappointed. Luggage and supplies used to arrive by mule, but I’ve not seen a working mule train for years, and now, people carry the bags and building supplies. Oh, we now have decent internet. When we first came and bought our first mobile phones (Nokia, you know the sort: press A three times for C), communication to the outside world, for us, was through pay-as-you-go phones, or the public phones which required a complicated arrangement of pre-paid cards. Our first internet connection was a 56 kbps dial-up one, but now, we have (goes to check) 140 Mb; higher at some times of the day. There is more street lighting, and there are more streets.
What’s not changed, though? Well, as I heard a visitor discuss the other day, the philoxenia of the island’s people hasn’t changed, and despite all this trying to keep up with the ‘improvements’ demanded by a modern world, our Symi neighbours remain charming and friendly, caring and welcoming.
I’m pleased to say not everyone is about making money. There remains a lively community at the centre of village life, and not always based around the churches (which welcome non-Orthodox worshipers), but also around the schools, which still don’t have decent or any air conditioning for summer or heating for winter, or enough books. There are dance, singing and other cultural classes and events, neighbours, including us foreigners, are invited to weddings and baptisms just as we’ve always been, and you know that if you need help, someone nearby will give it.
I could go on, but I won’t. There are many people who have known Symi longer and better than I, and these are just some vague five-in-the-morning memories I wanted to get out of my head before I start work. I’ll get back to my usual whitter on Monday, and leave this anniversary week there.
