A friend of mine just returned from Greece. She had some concerns going during the financial crisis, but as a regular visitor to the same island for years, she was assured by her longtime friend, the hotel owner, that all would be well.

The island, usually bustling in July with tourists and boats was eerily quiet. Tourists stayed away and boat owners feared running out of gas. She was the only guest at the hotel. The locals were going about their days as best they could.

She was aware that a sixty euro daily limit had been imposed at the ATMs and was wondering why that amount had been set.

“It costs fifty euros to go to a brothel.”  a local replied. “And the extra ten euros?” she asked. “That’s for the taxi to get there.” he added. She laughed along with the others.

During her stay, there was talk of the daily withdrawal decreasing to fifty euros.  “And now?” she asked a few days later. “Now they’ll have to walk.” was the reply.

The mood was increasingly somber.

This time she was the only one who laughed.