Hold on a minute, I'll look it up

I have at least two Greek phrasebooks and somewhere around the house I think there is a third and possibly even a fourth. They are the sort of thing you accumulate over time and jolly useful they are, too. Well, at least in theory.

Nothing can replace having in your head a working knowledge of a foreign language. Even if it's a bit sketchy, I genuinely believe you're better off stumbling along and learning as you go rather than constantly leafing through the pages of a phrasebook.

Yesterday, I successfully purchased a ballcock for our toilet cistern. Ballcock is not a word that appears in either of my phrasebooks nor in my Greek dictionary. Anyway, the transaction wasn't that difficult, I took the broken part with me and in my rough and ready Greek asked: "Have you got one of these, please."

But I still wouldn't be without my phrasebooks, if nothing else they provide plenty of entertainment as I try to work out the sort of situation where I would refer to the book rather than throw myself on the mercy of the Greek person I am trying to communicate with.

The two phrasebooks I have in front of me are a Berlitz, published in 1973, and a Lonely Planet, published in 2006. What a difference more than three decades makes.

The Berlitz book was published when Greece still had the Drachma - something which many Greeks wish was still the case - and besides the usual sections on checking in to hotels includes help on going to the hairdressers. Phrases include how to ask for a pageboy cut and also having ringlets put in your hair.

Having got your hair looking good, you might then want to go to a boxing match. I kid you not, the book even includes a phrase for finding a bout at lightweight. If all that activity leaves you feeling a little peaky, then maybe you need to see a doctor. The book admits it might not be much use in the case of serious injury or illness when you should just let the doctor take over, but the section includes how to explain more minor ailments. My favourite phrase here is one telling the doctor that you've been having nightmares.

In contrast, the Lonely Planet guide reflects the needs of a more modern readership, even including a phrase for explaining that the drugs you are carrying are for personal use. In fairness there is also a section on hairdressing, although no mention of ringlets.

My favourite section in the Lonely Planet phrasebook is the one on sex. While sex might be a universal language, I suppose there are still occasions when you need to make yourself perfectly clear with words. Having said that, I'm not sure that in the throes of passion you'd have either the time or the inclination to look up the phrase or word to say things like "touch me here" or "faster/harder/slower/softer". Maybe actions would speak louder than words.

All this talk of words and love has got me thinking of one of my favourite albums of the 1980s, The Lexicon of Love. Enjoy this video, it's a bit of its time, but the song's a cracker. In fact, the whole album is stonkingly good and I don't care if that makes me sound a bit dated.

Question: What is the most useful phrase you've learned in a foreign language? I make no bones about it, that the phrase which has stood me in good stead in Greek is "I'd like a beer, please". Purely by coincidence it was the first phrase I learned. 

E is for The Eagles

Getting lyrics wrong by accident or design has been a speciality of mine for years which is how we've come to The Eagles, purveyors of American rock with a faint twist of country in there somewhere.

Whatever it was they were singing about had nothing to do with my life growing up in a small seaside town in Kent, until, that is, they released Hotel California. A weird song which gets quoted a lot..."you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave", yes you have, you've sung that, admit it.

Anyway, to business, the title was readily changed by me and, I'm sure, countless others in Whitstable to Hotel Continental, the name of a hotel in the town. God how we laughed at that one. The Hotel Continental is now apparently quite swanky, but back in the old days was a bit of a toilet. I think things began to improve when I moved away.

Coincidentally I moved to Sheffield where my friends and I subverted the Eagles Take It To The Limit to Take ME To The Limit, which just happened to be the name of a rather grubby club in the city. If you think there's a bit of a link between grubbiness and me you could be right. As I have said elsewhere these postings are not necessarily about significant moments, just the oddities of recollection.

I'm definitely not the only person who likes the idea of mucking around with lyrics. I recently read Under The Eye Of The Clock by Christopher Nolan. In it he recounts that when the song Stranger In Paradise (from the musical Kismet, I believe) was popular his father used to sing "Take my hand, I'm a strange whore in paradise". It's not genius, but it's close.

I was thinking of putting up a video of Hotel California, but I changed my mind. So instead of that see below.

Also-rans: Actually there isn't an also-ran for E, but on the subject of wrong lyrics I give you Freed From Desire by Italian artist Gala. There is no power on this earth that will sway me from believing that she sings about her lover's "trombolese". Presumably it's a sort of musical instrument. Have a listen and see what you think.

For more on the A to Z Challenge go to: http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

Words we get from Greek: Meteorology

That's the thing with an occasional series, which "Words we get from Greek" most assuredly is, it just happens occasionally. Anyway, to business, meteorology is, as you undoubtedly know, the study of weather and climate. It's Greek roots are τα μετεόρα (things on high) and λόγος (basically word).

I used to think it was only the British that went on about the weather as in the joke that Britain doesn't have climate it has weather, but here on Skopelos people pay great attention to the weather.

It's not surprising really, a lot of Greek life is spent outdoors, tending olive trees, growing vegetables or even just sitting outside drinking coffee or eating. The weather has a bearing on all these activities. Will it rain? When will it rain? Will it be enough rain? People also go on about whether it's too hot or too cold. I suspect it's only human never to be completely satisfied with something such as the weather over which we have no control.

Definitely the wrong sort of rain. A storm in September, 2012.

Of course, it's not just landlubbers who worry about the weather, seafarers also pay great attention to the forecast. Skopelos is an island and the only way to get here, other than for a few exalted types who have access to a helicopter, is by sea. If it gets stormy then shipping can't get through, certainly not to land cargo and passengers and so we go without.

As I write this, we are awaiting high winds and possible snow (more likely to be rain). Friends who needed to get to Athens for a flight left a day early in order to be certain that they could get off the island. As I said, people pay attention to the weather here. On Sunday, the views were crystal clear and we could see all the way to Mount Olympus, the top of which is covered in snow as are the peaks on the nearby island of Evia.

A light scattering of snow from January this year.

The use of the word τα μετεόρα might just have rung a bell with some of you, particularly if I type it as Meteora. This is the site in the middle of Greece famous for its monasteries which are built on top of rocky outcrops. I don't know for sure, but I presume the name derives from "things on high" as does meteorology. Certainly I imagine the monks in their lofty homes paid great attention to the weather, I know I would.

The Holy Monastery of Rousanou at Meteora.

And then someone asks THAT question

The island is quiet at this time of year.

In my life I have been asked some tricky questions, generally along the lines of "What the hell do you think you're doing?", and usually I've been able to give a good account of myself.

But since living here there is one question that leaves me tongue tied and often trying to find a way to change the subject. The question in question, as it were, tends to be along the lines of "And how do you spend your day?"

To be frank I blame the Protestant work ethic for tripping me up here. I cannot help feeling that in answer to the question "What do you do on Skopelos?" I should reel off a long list of improving tasks that I complete each day. Instead of which I reply with a few ums and ers and then go "Well, I always find something to do." This is a weak and ineffectual answer and I can see the other person thinking "Ah ha! Late riser, boozy lunch, snooze in the afternoon, evening meal, rest of the day spent slumped in front of the telly."

To counter this completely false notion (for instance we don't even have a telly) I now offer my account of a fairly typical day written with a nod to those articles in Sunday newspapers in which the great and the good explain how they pack so much in to 24 hours. Thus:

"It's winter now, so although I usually wake at about 6am I lie in bed waiting for it to get light enough to take the dog out and listening to the bloody cockerel going on and on. As soon as I judge it to be daybreak, I stagger downstairs to be greeted by black Labrador Bonnie, who is keen to get on with things. But before I can do that I have to deal with three raucous cats who have gathered outside the kitchen door and are determined to be fed.

Bonnie considers entering a monastery.

Then it's off, usually to some nearby woods, to let Bonnie have a run. During the course of this walk, I might well collect pine cones which make wonderful firelighters. On the drive back I am likely to encounter at least one herd of goats on the road. Giving the goatman a cheery wave, I steer my way through the herd. I used to wait for them to clear the road, but realised this is not the Greek way. With care and determination you will find a way through that does not involve running over livestock.

Once back home I feed Bonnie and usually let out Kevin the endangered cockerel to have the run of the land on his own. He used to be with all the other chickens, but they were attacking him and so he now lives in isolation. The other chickens will come out when Kevin, who is not the crowing cockerel, is safely back in his own quarters. Recent experiences have led me to have a rather jaundiced view of chickens, they are not my favourite creatures.

Then it's a leisurely breakfast for me, during which I read. My other half is not a morning person so breakfast is a solitary occasion, hence the reading.We probably both prefer it that way. Often just before breakfast I'll spend a little time using my Greek language CDs. I am confident that if I live to be 100 I should be quite fluent.

Usually by this time herself has arisen and come downstairs for her first cup of coffee, cigarette and initial inspection of the garden. There is a clear division of labour here. She gardens, I bask in its glory.

We then move on to one of the trickiest jobs of the day - deciding what we shall have for our evening meal. In the summer it is easy enough to eat out, but during the winter there is only a handful of tavernas open and going out means leaving the warmth of a log fire so we plot a tasty dish for the evening and then go out to buy supplies.

It is then that one of the most important lessons of island life is reinforced. If the weather is bad and boats can't get through then some food stocks are going to run low and our "best laid plans gang aft agley". This requires a rethink on the food front, all of which takes time. I should add here that we have never gone hungry and we do eat well, but you have to like what you get, rather than expect to get what you like.

While out we might stop off for coffee, which in Greece is not a hurried thing, or bump in to friends and exchange news. This, too, cannot be done quickly. Topics to be addressed will be the weather, what vegetables they have growing in their garden, places they have eaten and what said meals were like, pet welfare and will the boat get in? Depending on the time of year, other topics might include family visitors heading for Skopelos and the scandalous prices charged by airlines for flights to and from the UK.

By now it will be early afternoon, so time for a light lunch. Not too light, though, food is important here. This is likely to be followed by more reading and maybe, just maybe, a short siesta, although these are better left for the hot afternoons of summer.

Currently, we are trying to learn French if for no other reason than we think it's a good thing to do and I am acutely aware that I didn't make the most of the opportunity I had to learn the language when I was at school.

A rare moment of peace from the cats as they stuff themselves.

As the afternoon goes on, it's time to take Bonnie out again while fending off ravenous cats. There is also the question of lighting the fire. Having a log fire is a great thing, arguably better than the telly on most nights, but if you have an open fire you have to learn its ways and prove your commitment otherwise it will smoke sulkily and then go out. You've guessed it, all this takes time.

The evening is spent eating, listening to The Archers online and surfing the net looking for pictures of dogs with funny faces or cats sleeping in odd locations. There is also more reading to be done and tackling the fearsome Times Jumbo Cryptic Crossword. By now you should be getting some idea of just how packed the day is. I roll in to bed around 11.30pm when I read some more and then turn off the light, pausing only to count my blessings, which I know are many."

So there you have it, my "Day In The Life" and I haven't even mentioned chopping wood, rescuing cats from trees, or chasing chickens off the flower garden before they eat all the seedlings. Not to mention staring out of the window at the house over the road and wondering when it will be finished (not any time soon, the most work that has been done on it since we've been here followed a direct hit by lightning).

Anyway, in answer to the question "How do you fill your day?" rest assured I always find something to do.

Words we get from Greek: 4 - xenophobia

Earlier postings in this strand have all been from near the front end of the alphabet (another word we get from Greek) so for this one I've dodged to near the end of the alphabet, but only of the Latin alphabet as the x of this posting's chosen word is found more or less in the middle of the Greek alphabet. Complicated, no? To add to the complication Greek has another sort of X pronounced more like the ch in words such as loch and that does come near the end of the Greek alphabet.

So anyway xenophobia, which in Greek has an x as in fix rather than a z sound (look, just concentrate) is fear or hatred of foreigners. Xenos is the foreign bit and phobia is the fear bit. I suppose it could be racism for posh people. Anyway, I'd be lying if I said that there were not instances where some Greek people didn't like some foreign people, but then, sad to say, that is true of any nationality.

The crisis has certainly played its part in creating xenophobia and naked hostility to people from other countries has been displayed in parts of the country, not least Athens. The rise of Golden Dawn, a political party which denies being neo-Nazi, but which has more than a whiff of the jackboot about it, has coincided with a rise in attacks on people from other countries, especially if the colour of their skin marks them out.

All of this is rather depressing but I would say that broadly speaking most Greeks I have encountered are prepared at the very least to be "live and let live" and many are friendly to you whoever you are (especially, surprise, surprise, if you are friendly to them). This, in turn, brings me to another word linked to our posting's title but which is one of my favourite Greek words....filoxenia (φιλόξενια). This is the spirit of hospitality, friendliness to foreigners, and as we are all foreigners somewhere let's hope for more filoxenia and less xenophobia.

Words we get from Greek: 2 - catastrophe

Straightforward enough, catastrophe in English is a sudden disaster or misfortune and καταστροφή in Greek is destruction, collapse, disaster. Clearly not a word that has changed much in moving from one language to another.

My Chambers dictionary says catastrophe derives from κατά, the Greek for down, and strophe, in Greek στροφή, meaning turning.

My favourite use of the word comes from a plumber I know here on Skopelos who describes difficult plumbing situations as a catastrophe. Particularly difficult plumbing situations he describes as "the full catastrophe". One hopes to avoid those wherever possible.

This particular plumber once explained to me his theory on learning English. "When you have listened to Eric Clapton, Elton John and Rod Stewart, then you can speak English," he stated with absolute conviction, at which point his apprentice added "...and Rory Gallagher". This idea of teaching English using ageing, and in one case dead, rockers is a new one on me, but it's certainly worth a try. What do you think, Mr Gove?

Words we get from Greek: 1 - economy

Oh dear! Possibly not the best choice with which to start this occasional series designed to show all manner of words the English language has gained from Greek.

Economy in Greek (οικονομία) is used in the same way as we use it in English, to describe the overall financial system and also as a word for frugality. No surprises though that it is the first use that is at the forefront of everyone's mind. Without wishing to sound too harsh the Greek economy is a train wreck.

Last December 26.4 per cent of the workforce was unemployed, up from 10.5 per cent in the same month in 2009, and youth unemployment now stands at 58 per cent. The infamous troika - the European Commission, the International Monetary Fund and the European Central Bank - has called for stringent austerity measures before it will approve bail-outs running to billions of Euros.

In the last 12 months, the minimum wage of €751 has been cut by 22 per cent (or 32 per cent for under 25s), and the government also cut the basic rate of unemployment benefits from €460 to €360 a month. Most of those receiving such benefits will only do so for a year after which.....?

So all in all not good, but there are said to be the tiniest signs of hope, although to be honest these are usually announced by politicians seeking to justify continued austerity. If people in Britain feel hard done by with a political class which seems to have little understanding of the realities facing "normal" people, then it would be fair to say that many Greeks have a burning sense of grievance at the behaviour of some of their politicians.

Sometimes I suspect that what happens in an economy is despite the activities of politicians, not because of them. I was talking to someone about the Greek economy the other day and he felt the world economy would gradually improve and then, to offer hope for Greece, he said: "And all boats float on a rising tide". The cynic in me wondered what might happen if the hull of the Greek economy still had a massive hole in it. Fingers crossed that it hasn't.

Money: It doesn't grow on trees, you know.
(Picture posed by models)

Barking up the wrong tree

'No, I do not want to practise my Greek verbs'

Lately, I've been teaching my dog to speak Greek. Ambitious, I know, and not entirely true - I doubt that she'd ever get the hang of verb endings and the way they change with tense. No my language lesson is more simple. As a dog raised in England, Bonnie says 'woof' and now she lives in Greece she needs to learn that dogs say 'ghav' (γαβ).

Try it and you'll see, or rather hear, that actually when said with a bit of throatiness 'ghav' does indeed sound quite like a dog barking. Silly, you say, well yes, but for me it encapsulates some of the key difficulties I'm having in getting to grips with the language of the country where I now live. I'm no linguist and never have been, but it strikes me that native speakers of every language grow up developing a particular way of making the sounds that combine to form the words of that language.

As far as Greek people are concerned their dogs say 'ghav' and not 'woof'. As an aside, a former colleague of mine who now lives in Catalonia told me that there dogs say 'bup'. I know, hilarious isn't it? But try it with a bit of oomph and suddenly you find yourself coming out with quite a convincing little dog yappy sound.

It's not only Greek dogs that speak Greek. Cats do, too. Here they don't say 'miaow', they say 'niaou' (νιαου). Not totally at odds, but still different. Roosters say 'kikiriku' (κικιρίκου), while birds in general are reckoned to say 'tsiu-tsiu' (τσίου-τσίου). With all these differences it comes as a relief to find that the good old reliable cow largely transcends linguistic barriers and utters an entirely understandable 'moo' (μου).

Obviously, I could have called this posting 'It's All Greek To Me', and in many ways it is, but I remain committed to the idea of being able to hold some sort of stumbling conversation in Greek that goes beyond a request for food or drink. I want to be able to use the Greek language to help me live my life here, this despite one of the very nice ladies who works in my local supermarket, and who speaks near faultless English, telling me: 'You know, Greek is the hardest language to learn, we have so many words for the same thing'. I was only slightly mollified by another Greek person who declared their language to be the 'second hardest' language to learn. Oh well, back to the language tapes.