45 - A Hungarian Family of Campers

 We were standing under the porch awning of the grand Akrivides’ tent, a little further down the lane from our more modest one, when a family of Hungarians arrived and parked their Dacia outside the perimeter of their designated bush-fenced lot, in a communal area between lots covered by lawn and small trees. It was the same lot where the Akrivides’ set-up their tent and occupied for the last couple of holiday seasons. The regulations of the camping site had long since been relaxed under the pressure of the increasing flow of tourists, and several campers brought and raised their tents often wherever they saw fit, and with disregard to those regulations and the privacy of others· preferably, close to the amenities offered by the campsite, but not too close to the communal toilets, ideally in a patch of the shade that one or more of the scattered trees provided, an essential shield from the sun and the heat in the most privileged of the lots. The precious shade of the tree was an indisputable and non-negotiable right of regular holidaymakers, especially of those with connections to the campsite management and they ‘reserved’ the premium lots well in advance of the season. Life in a tent was exposed to the brutal sun of the Greek summer afternoons, and could become insufferable without the protection a tree shade offered.

It was clear Nikos by no means wanted the Hungarian (or any family of foreign tourists for that matter) raising their tents in the vicinity of his lot and share some of the shade of the large plane tree he appropriated. His imposing tent was his ‘castle’ for a month or two and he created a village of friendly tents and caravans around this ‘castle’ of his. We might as well point out the individualism (of not only Greeks) that renders slogans of ‘the traditional Greek hospitality’ type void. All in all it was unthinkable for Nikos to allow someone to knock him off his perch in his patch of the resort, having established himself as a prominent and formidable figure amongst holidaymakers during his few weeks of vacation, let alone  being intimidated by a random bunch of second-rate tourists from a country behind the ‘iron curtain’.

An argument soon boiled between him and his unwanted neighbours. I stopped by the Akrivides’ tent that morning on my way to the beach to see if Billy wanted to join me, and he asked my help to act as an interpreter, with my English that he presumed I had a good grasp of after several years in a neighborhood tutoring school. He wanted me to articulate his discontent and objections, and justify amply to the unwanted foreigners his unshakeable objection to them raising their small tent on the patch of lawn by his lot. I did not have time to concentrate on a task on that was unexpectedly assigned to me by Nikos and I was unnerved, primarily due to the chronic lack of self-confidence. It often happened when I was faced with unprecedented situations or unexplored domains where my opinion and contribution was solicited, and it often caused anxiety and even triggered panic. Seeing me somehow stalling, Billy promptly joined his dad’s argument with the Hungarians (came to my rescue one might have said) with his typical boldness and characteristic ease and readiness that distinguished him in such cases. I stood silently, a sad figure, on the sidelines listening to the arguments. The conversation, subjected to the arrogant smile and pomp of Nikos began with adverbs common in the oratorial toolbox of a future politician: "Of course... Surely… Anyway, ladies and gentlemen…", thus addressing the poor Hungarians like a diplomat on a mission and looking down on them with a hostile irony, and with measured professional pauses between his phrases to allow time for Billy to interpret into English. His aim was to expel them from the vicinity of his tent there was no need, I thought, of intricately advocating his case and impostures. In the general disorder that the camping site was falling into, arguments about order and adherence to regulations did not have sound rational basis.

The Hungarian finally, in the face of Nikos’ pompous intransigence, collected the skeleton of their tent and move somewhere else in the site. Before leaving, in a determined but dignified manner, they said: "We came to Greece several times, we visited many parts of it, and its people were mostly hospitable and friendly. It is the very first time we have been treated like this."  Nikos wish prevailed and ‘surely’ or ‘certainly’, as he would begin his sentences, he was satisfied with the outcome of the quarrel. Billy was once again at the forefront of demanding proceedings with ease. His confidence shone. I was humbled for being pushed to the margins and rather ashamed, probably for no good reason, for way the Hungarian family were treated by Nikos and Billy as his accomplice. At the end of the day, as on other occasions, I felt the familiar sense of inferiority next to Billy and on the sidelines.

I also realised that standing there next to him and his dad, dressed in an expensive attire of famous brands was worsened these feelings. Some races believe themselves superior or ‘chosen’. The same is true for select few people within the same racial denomination. What clothes one wears may temporarily raise one’s self-esteem, but this is a purely subjective notion and offers little help change the way an individual is perceived by others. Form without substance becomes an empty shell. As with the emperor of the popular tale, it is like covering the nakedness with invisible clothes.