The Cyclades (Part 3 of our Odyssey) - Summer 1989

October 12, 2024

About the Author:
Lisa Papageras is an American writer, digital marketing consultant, wife, mother and small business owner from Hudson, OH. She spent her childhood in Pittsburgh, PA and Chautauqua, NY. She has spent 30+ years bouncing between Greece and and Hudson. She loves her family and the Beatles, and strongly dislikes writing about herself in the 3rd person.

This little village in Santorini (see photo below) closely resembles the one my boyfriend and I stayed in during our visit to the island in 1989. Staying in a small village, away from typical tourist spots and closer to the locals, immerses you in reality. You witness how residents live, how they genuinely interact (or don’t), and you get a glimpse into the lawlessness that can arise on a remote island.

As I mentioned in my last article, I learned some valuable lessons on this trip that related to my college degree in International Relations and the nuances of neighborly behavior.

So, how did this trip influence my choice of major, and why do I still relate to it thirty years later? Here’s the story:

On our second or third day in Santorini, after breakfast, we stepped out of our unfinished rental with our beach towels and backpacks, only to be startled by a commotion across the street. Two men were shouting at each other in Greek, their voices rising in anger. I had yet to learn any Greek, so I couldn’t grasp what they were saying, but their heated exchange was unmistakable. My boyfriend, amused yet cautious, guided me toward the main street to catch a cab into town.

Curious, I asked him, "What were they yelling about?" He explained that one man, whom I’ll call Kostas, was digging up his neighbor Nikos’ property to build something. Nikos, understandably upset, confronted Kostas about damaging his yard. What began as a verbal dispute quickly escalated to physical confrontation. By the time we reached the village center to find a cab, the two were at fisticuffs, leaving me to wonder if it would all be resolved by the time we returned.

We spent a lovely day exploring the narrow cobblestone paths adorned with blue domes, whitewashed walls, blue shutters, and vibrant pink oleander. We dined at a restaurant overlooking the sea, with the volcano looming in the distance, and browsed shops for souvenirs before picking up snacks for our rental.

As the sun dipped low in the western sky, we took a cab back to rest before heading out for a night of dancing. However, upon our return, it was clear the conflict between the neighbors had only intensified. Hours later, Nikos wielded a hammer while Kostas brandished an axe, and more family members joined the fray. I stood frozen in shock; my boyfriend had to whistle to snap me back to reality and usher me inside.

Inside, we tried to shower and rest, but the shouting outside made sleep impossible. At around 9:30 PM, we got dressed for the clubs, but the chaos continued, now accompanied by the sounds of machinery. When we stepped outside at 10 PM, we were met with a surreal scene: a truck from Nikos’ property was facing off against a bulldozer from Kostas’. It was madness!

We hurried to the main street and caught a cab into town. That night, we enjoyed a late meal at an outdoor restaurant under a stunning full moon—the most beautiful I had ever seen. Though our camera failed to capture its brilliance, my memory holds it vividly. We later found a club by the beach and danced until the early hours.

When we returned to our unfinished apartment, we found police on the scene. No one had been hurt, but Nikos was holding a shotgun, and authorities were sorting out the escalating situation. We quietly bypassed the chaos, unable to sleep until the police lights finally dimmed and the officers drove away.

That night and the following morning, I reflected on the day’s events. I realized that mundane actions can lead to unforeseen confrontation and conflict. Even well-intentioned acts can be misinterpreted, leading to a situation where aggression escalates when communication fails. The words of Plato remain as true today as thousands of years ago:

“People regard the same things, some as just and others as unjust, - about these they dispute; and so there arise wars and fightings among them.”

Upon returning to college that summer, I declared my major in International Relations, hoping to learn how to communicate transparently to resolve conflicts at an international level. More often than not, I've applied these skills locally—with family, friends, neighbors, and in daily business interactions.

So, what’s the secret to conflict resolution? It’s simpler than you might think. Here are a few basic principles:

Speak truthfully, no matter how challenging it may be.
When you know you’re wrong, suppress your embarrassment, admit your error, apologize, and seek forgiveness.
When wronged, focus on expressing how it makes you feel rather than blaming the person who wronged you.
If tensions escalate, call a timeout, offer food and drink, and discuss something unrelated until everyone has calmed down.

While these principles won’t solve every conflict, they can foster understanding and empathy, potentially preventing escalation to violence.

As an epilogue, nearly 30 years after my Santorini experience, my husband (the same boyfriend from 1989) and I found ourselves living next to a Greek American family that mirrored the "Kostas" dynamic. They had five children and frequently overstepped boundaries. Their bonfires burned down a bit of the forest behind our homes...twice, their kids threw rocks at our cars, and their landscapers cut our internet lines...twice. I often worried about the well-being of their children and pets. They lived next to us for seven years.

During that time, I frequently thought about the two gentlemen from Santorini. I learned to communicate my concerns when our neighbor's actions troubled me, while also choosing to overlook their minor offenses. I picked my battles. Eventually, the neighbors became aware of their reputation and moved away. As George Harrison said, "All Things Must Pass."

This concludes my tales from The Cyclades. Despite the challenges I had, it remains one of the most stunning places on Earth, and I encourage everyone who can to visit. I grew up during those five days. My sheltered life fell away, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

In my upcoming articles, I’ll share insights on the best places to stay when visiting Greece and its islands, along with recommendations for the finest wines, food, fashion designers, jewelers, and other treasures to enrich your life.

In the meantime...