Here’s the proof:
1) First of all, most obviously, Greek people get to live in Greece. That’s pretty compelling evidence on its own, but since Italians also get to live in Italy, it wasn’t enough information to create a conclusive case. To be honest, Italy is so breath-taking that until this morning, I was convinced that God was Italian. Only favored people could live in a land that magnificent.

2) Greeks have all those delicious desserts and Phyllo dough. It is Godly delicious food. Phyllo dough itself is wondrous and has many times made me seem a far better and more interesting cook than I actually am. It is the only food that is a close second to crabs. Let’s consider another fact, who invented the word ambrosia? The Greeks. And what is their food? Ambrosia.

3) I had another point of evidence, but I can’t remember it at the moment. It was very compelling though.

4) And finally, the irrefutable proof that God is Greek, this weekend is the annual Greek Festival in Charlotte. Last night we looked at the forecast and it was projected to rain all weekend from Hanna. It would have been the only time that I can remember there being rain during the Greek Festival. This morning, though, the forecast has changed completely. The rain turned north and we’ll have nothing but sunny skies for the rest of the weekend.

For some reason, the Indian Festival, which is normally in April, and is always held indoors, is also being held this weekend. “What are they thinking?” my friends and I have queried to each other. You cannot compete with the Greek Festival. It is one of the biggest annual events in Charlotte, and is the kind of thing you plan vacations around. If for some reason, you had a brain lapse and left town the first weekend in September, you’d be sorely disappointed when you realized what you had done. For years you would berate yourself, “I can’t believe I missed the Greek Festival that time.” I know. We missed it once, not from leaving town, but just from being stupid. I’m still regretting it.

Last night when I saw rain, a lot of rain, in the forecast, I had a moment of doubt. I worried for the Greek Festival, but was comforted that the Indians might get more traffic since their event is indoors. As it turns out, nothing can stop the Greek Festival.

So, there you have it. God is Greek.

Personally, we couldn’t miss either festival. Later today my husband, a handful of friends and I will head out with our Tupperware, as we always do to avoid Styrofoam waste, and will make our way through the dessert line at Yiasou, ordering at least one of everything to bring home for dessert throughout the week. We’ll have a Gyro and some spanikopita, browse the Greek gift shops, admire the ornate chess sets, consider buying one, but decide against it, watch the Greek dancers for a bit, and catch up with a handful of people that we inevitably bump into for the first time in several years.

Next, we’ll head over to the Indian Festival and gorge ourselves on Indian food. Then, like a human Weeble, we’ll waddle over to any place we can find to sit down and will do what we do every year, we’ll look at each with dismay, full of the discomfort that only eater’s remorse can give you, and we’ll say, “I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” “Yup,” we’ll nod in unison, resolving to do better, but knowing in our hearts that neither of us will ever have willpower over the Indian food. Just this year, we’ll have started with the Greek food first.

On second thought, maybe God is from Charlotte. Who gets to have both a Greek Festival and an Indian Festival in the same weekend, but his favorites? Nah. We don’t have crabs or baseball.

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