Radical Greek Hospitality: A Mirror to My Own Flaws

1:45 in the morning. Heraklion, Crete, Greece. The owner of the hotel slams the door in my face and tells me that if I don't leave soon, she's calling the police. They don't have 24-hour-reception. I woke her up. She tells me I don't have a booking. I tell her I do and that their must be some mistake. If she would only give me the WiFi code, we could sort it out. She repeats herself, if I don't leave, she'll call the police. I tell her, do whatever you want. It wouldn't be the first time people needlessly call the police on me. I didn't know it then, but the Lord was with me.

I think to myself, Why the Hell did I chose to come to Greece? What a mistake.

I have luggage to drag around and no place to stay. I better look for a hotel and try to figure out what happened. 

I'm tired. It's a three and an half an hour flight from Amsterdam to Crete. Think about the time to get to the airport and check in. I think checking into the airport takes a lot more energy than I realized. 

I also flew on some budget airline. They crammed us into the small seats like sardines in a can. I sat next to a fat Aryan guy, perhaps Dutch, perhaps German. His body fat spilled over into my space. He was eating a lot of potato chips and licking his fingers after eating enough of them.

Anyways, trying to figure things out, around the corner, I see a couple, who seem to be enjoying themselves. One guy is in his 40s and in his underwear and hairy and cheery. The woman is dressed in a sleeveless bright blue dress. She's blonde with brown eyes. She looks like she's wearing an ancient Greek dress. Both of them radiate happiness and cheer.

I knock on their door and say, "Excuse me. Do you speak English?"

The guy says, "Yes."

"Can I get your WiFi code? My hotel says I don't have a booking. I need the WiFi to see if this is correct."

"I'll get you the code. Come on in." 

Remember; it's 2 AM. They found me on the street.

The woman studies me. She can see I'm agitated and anxious. She hears about me not having a hotel and how the owner threatened to call the police on me. She says, "Don't worry about it. We'll find you a hotel for the night."

They offer me a drink of strong and fine alcohol in a shot glass. I down it. The host tells me, "Don't do that. Too fast. You have to enjoy it."

"I'm sorry. It's stressful."

"Don't worry. We're here now. Everything will be ok."

They call around to find me a hotel. They can't find anything.

They say, "It's ok. We'll bring you some bed sheets. You can stay on our couch tonight." 

Wow - I think. You barely met me. It's 2AM. You found me on the streets.

The guy says, "Have a drink. Relax. Everything is ok now."

We talk until 3 AM. His name is Yiannis (John in English) and her name is Marina. Yiannis makes wine and is a jack of all trades, which include driving buses, cars, fixing brakes, and producing olive oil. Marina owns a hotel. I give them Korean noodles, the one that's popular with Korean actors and K-pop stars. I tell them it's not regular instant ramen. I would've given them my Californian wine, but it's missing from my bag.

We wake up the next morning. Everyone is tired. I apologize to Marina and say, "I'm so sorry to inconvenience you." I feel so bad, when I see how tired they are.

She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek and says, "Don't you worry about it. We all need help some times."

I feel shame. I feel humiliated. I know I wouldn't be happy if someone made me lose my sleep. And here I was, a stranger, knocking on the door of people, at 2AM in the morning, on the streets. Her response confronts me with this thought: You need to rethink your values on being inconvenienced. Anyone can be hospitable when it's on their terms. Real hospitality can be real inconvenience.

* * *

The Jewish and Christian people tell this story. Around 3,400 years ago, Hebrew spies visited a Gentile prostitute named Rahab, who lived in the city walls. Could the spies imagine someone less clean? A prostitute. A Gentile. An outsider.

Rahab was clearly an outcast by her own people. She couldn't even live in the city. That's why she lived in the border of it, in a wall. But like so many outcasts, she was an observer and understood how people thought.

When the Hebrew spies arrived, God has already told her to protect them. She tricked the soldiers looking for them by hiding them on the roof, under bundles of flax. The spies promise her, "we will treat you kindly and faithfully when the Lord gives us the land.” (Joshua 2:14, NIV).

After the Israelites capture Jericho, Rahab and her family were saved. She converts to Judaism and receives God's blessing. She ultimately ends up as ancestor of Jesus. So, an outcast gets a new family.

The writer of the Book of Hebrews exalts her as a saint, because of her faith. Goes to show you, we're all only one step away from living a life of faith, if a prostitute can convert to a saint through her faith and hospitality and through an act that saves the lives of the spies. Ultimately, she brings salvation to the City of Jericho.

* * *

The next morning, the three of us have coffee. I really need a coffee. They really need a coffee. We sit at a cafe on a small cliff, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The refreshing and salty sea breeze was blowing through the City, through our hair, through the cafe.

I pay for coffee.

Later on, Yiannis calls me in the late afternoon and tells me to meet him at a restaurant. He buys me a glass of sweet Greek wine. We chat. He tells me he's having a problem. He can't exchange his Norwegian money for Euros. 

He's in a hurry. He has to take a trip three and a half hours South of Crete. (By the way, Crete is a large island; the 22nd largest island in the world.) 

We part ways. Yiannis and Marina had to go South. I had to find a place to stay.

* * *

When I retell this story to the Greek people, their response is that they didn't think such hospitality was shown anymore. Perhaps, 20 years ago. They're proud to know that such hospitality is still practiced. I wonder, when they hear this story, could they see the Lord was with me? I didn't even know at the time.