The Middle Eastern Festival

Yesterday afternoon, I went with a friend to St. George's Orthodox Church in Fishers.

I met my sister and my great-nephew there and I also met DM. My sister is responsible for the photos. I wish I had been quick enough on the uptake to ask her to take photos of the church's interior. She wanted to know why she had to do it, then I reminded her that any photos taken with my Gabb phone cannot be uploaded here. Well, that is the exterior up there. I think she did a good job.

If you want to see the interior, there are photos on the church's website and the link is above.

Here is another of the exterior:

I herded everyone into the church for a lecture. I am not so sure of the relatives' reaction, but DM was suitably impressed. He knows Catholic churches, so I leaned over at him and said "A little different from the Catholics, right?" He kind of choked and agreed. Thanks to him looking around, we learned about St. Barnabas of Indiana. After the lecture, we went outside to find food.

I got a gyros. Neither of my relatives would have any of it. Sister does not like lamb, or pita bread. The great-nephew found it too strange looking. He went off to the bouncy palace.

DM got the chicken shawarma. He liked it. 

We both commented on how the pita bread was thinner, crispier than the Greek version of which we were more familiar.

I had brought cash to help feed the relatives, that they were  turning into cheap dates did not deter me. I got the cheese plate. Unfamiliar cheeses, Kalamata olives, mint leaves, a cherry tomato and more pita bread. I managed to bite down on the tomato so that I had seeds splattered on my left shoulder. The feta cheese I knew, albeit not in the form I ate yesterday: it had the tang but not the dryness of Greek Feta, it leaned closer to the creamy.

About then DM wanted a smoke, so we went back on the meditation trail. We talked about he had seen. The ethnic diversity surprised him. I said the Orthodox take seriously the effort of living up to being the universal church. He also noticed the Jesus icon on the dome's ceiling did not depict a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jesus.

I have no idea what were my sister's thoughts/impressions. She did fixate on the dancers.

Or maybe it was the man's bald spot.....

(And now I know I can upload gifs!)

We went back into the church, down to the basement, where they were selling baked goods. Since I am still doing a low carb diet, I only bought one item for myself (and will not try to spell it). I was curious as to what business anise had in a pastry. Good stuff, that barely tasted of licorice. DM and my sister loaded up on pastries. I tried a piece of baklava bought by my sister - different from the Greek version, drier, not coated in honey (I assume rosewater was used). I bought a skewer of soft candies for the great-nephew. I guess everything looked too strange to interest him. I may have been the same at the same age.

Then they left. My ride and I followed them about 15 minutes later.

It was a lively affair, even if a bit on the small side. That might have made it even more fun - everything contained to the church's parking lot, including the dancers!

DM brought with him the copy of Alasdair Gray's Old Men in Love which ThriftBooks delivered to his place (I got free shipping by adding my novel to the copy of David Hume's Essays I bought for him). Now, to find the time for reading!

I got home about 7 pm, went to work on my stories.

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