I’ve traveled to 10 countries in the last 11 months. Now that I think about it, it’s actually 11 countries in 11 months if you count the United States — that has a nice ring to it!

As I’ve been traveling and meeting locals or meeting up with local friends, I’ve started asking people if there is a word or phrase in their local language that describes their culture. This idea came to me after spending nearly a month last summer in Costa Rica where “Pura Vida” perfectly captures the beautiful people and country of Costa Rica. "Pura vida" translates to "pure life." It is used as "hello", "goodbye", "thank you", "how are you?", "I'm great", or "no worries." The magic of Pura Vida isn't just how the phrase is used though, it's the relaxed way of life that it captures. It's a philosophy for approaching life with simplicity, gratitude, and positivity. I wrote a blog post aptly called Pura Vida because I was fascinated by how these two words were basically synonymous with the two words “Costa Rica.” And that kicked off my own linguistic anthropological study of the world.

Greece has become a home away from home for me after the several months that I spent living in a picturesque little coastal town just north of Athens called Chalkida as well as island hopping my way around the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas. Greece has all the superlatives my writer’s vocabulary can conjure — white-washed architecture crowned with turquoise domes, cuisine with the perfect balance of simplicity and flavor, therapeutic seas that melt away your cares and impending sunburn, a rich history that goes back practically to the beginning of time. But Greece is so much more than just that postcard image, and its word shows the incredible depth of the Greek people.

Philotimo is a Greek word that isn’t easily translated because it’s a virtue with so many different facets. It’s integrity, honor, pride, duty, courage, respect, generosity, gratitude, goodness. Philotimo is a noun comprised of two root words — “filos” which means “friend” and “timi” which means “honor”. To honor your friend. It’s always doing the right thing without expecting anything in return except love and friendship. Philotimo is embedded in the DNA of the Greeks and felt as a responsibility to one’s family, to one’s community, even to Greek history. The famous Greek philosopher, Thales, said, “Philotimo to the Greek is like breathing. A Greek is not a Greek without it.”

Philotimo explains the steadfast and graceful way the Greeks have continuously welcomed refugees by the hundreds of thousands to their country since 2015. Greece has its fair share of economic problems with a crushing debt crisis and high unemployment, but the attitude of most people I personally met and all the way to President Prokopis Pavlopoulos is an understanding that humanity always comes first even, and maybe especially, in trying times of uncertainty. “I say we Greeks teach and will always teach because we have proved that there is no obstacle, in spite of the crisis, to doing our duty based on our ancient heritage,” Pavlopoulos said at a seminar on the refugee crisis, referring to how Greek culture has influenced their reaction to issues of migration. He’s referring to Philotimo.

When I explain what I love about Greece, I always start with how generous and embracing the people were to me. One of my favorite memories is of an afternoon wine tasting at a local, family-owned and operated winery called Tzivani. The owners, Chrissie and George, were the quintessential wine couple. Chrissie was the front of the house entertainer while George, the wine maker, would appear suddenly and pour himself a splash of the wine we were tasting, sticking his prominent Greek nose far into the glass and nodding with satisfaction as he swallowed his life’s work. I wrote a blog post about it, Wine Tasting, Greek Style, because their hospitality struck me as pure sharing of their very essence.

We tasted their delicious wines while hearing stories about how they were named and ate all the snacks they served, including fresh figs which are my favorite! When George invited me to pick figs to take home with us, my friend Zoe and I hopped into his SUV while still holding our half-full wine glasses. He drove us up a hill to a vineyard at a higher elevation with neighboring fig trees and taught us how to look for ripe but not overripe figs. We filled a bag with them. The impromptu tour proceeded on to their small farm on the other side of the hill to feed goats, sheep, and deer. I laughed and squealed as animal tongues licked my hands, trying to get every last piece of the feed. Then to top it all off, George gave us fresh eggs plucked directly from the small chicken coop! George's generosity and interest in sharing his way of life with us was so genuine and touching. This is Philotimo.

Last August I spent a week on the northern tip of a beautifully wild island called Karpathos. Tucked away in the far southeast corner of Greece surrounded by the deep blue waters of the Aegean Sea, Karpathos is a refreshing break from the widely traveled and often touristy Greek islands. My good friend and travel buddy, Ilene, and I became privy to this secret paradise through a friend who works in the ecotourism industry in Europe, and we jumped on the opportunity to get off the proverbial beaten track.

What made Karpathos so special was the archetypical Greek hospitality of our hostess and fast friend, Evangelia of Ecotourism Karpathos. While drinking coffee, eating at remote, locals-only restaurants, and touring the traditional village of Olympos, Evangelia shared the history, traditions, landscape, and culture of her home with us. Her pride in first being from the town of Diafani, second being from the island of Karpathos, and third being Greek was evident in her every word and mannerism. It was Evangelia who taught me the word Philotimo and showed me through her generous spirit what it means.

Evangelia invited Ilene and I to join her family in a traditional pilgrimage to a nearby village called Vroukounda for the annual celebration of Saint John. We readily accepted, packed our backpacks for the overnight trip, and laced up our sneakers for the trek. It was a beautiful walk through the countryside, over hills, and past donkeys before descending on the remote village by the sea accessible only by foot or boat. We were honored to stand with Evangelia and her family, dressed in traditional, colorful dresses and head scarves, right in front of the alter in the tiny church built in a cave. I couldn’t understand a word of the Greek hymns, but I felt a powerful connection to essence of the tradition. The celebration continued as dusk fell and little white lights came on over the banquet tables where a feast of goat stew and bread, prepared by the community and blessed during the church service, were served. Traditional dancing started around midnight and continued all night long until the sun came up over the hill and cast an orange sherbet glow on the sea in the background.

I would say that this was a once in a lifetime experience, but I know I’ll go back to Karpathos for the Saint John celebration someday. It just seems like the right thing. Perhaps some of that Philotimo has rubbed off on me.