First a disclaimer: lack of sleep, my first ever blog post, and two mini-mugs of a cinnamon-flavored liquor traditional to Greece may make this entry a bit on the subpar side of things.
Regardless, I think this picture of the original Olympic Stadium in Athens (just a three minute walk from our apartments) serves as an appropriate metaphor for many of the adventures I’ve experienced thus far:
1. Getting to Athens alone was marathon of security checkpoints, card playing, scattered moments of sleep, and standing parties in the back of a 737. For the near three hours of sleep I got in a solid 24-26 hour time period, I would say that my spirits remained quite high, however any attempt of intellectual output (like reading the text for class on Monday) was not at all effective. One highlight was receiving a scrumptious chicken burrito midway through our KLM flight from Amsterdam to Athens; when you wake up to a stewardess offering something other than stale pretzels or overly salty peanuts, life just gets a little bit better.
2. After arriving in Athens, the Lute brigade was met with its second event in this jet-lagged triathlon: the aptly labeled “Death March”. Dr. Finitsis led us through charming alleyways, cobblestone streets encircling the Acropolis, tight sidewalks in the hip, “romantic coffee drinkers” district of the city, to the Greek Parliamentary Building, and lastly past the Prime Minister and President’s house (complete with riot squad buses and more formal guards with funny lumps on their shoes). This two-hour endeavor was, in my opinion, one of the most special experiences of my life; seeing a city like Athens lit by lonely streetlights and a magnificent full moon was simply an invitation for one of those “Oh my God” feelings.
3. The last leg (thus far) of our adventures happened today, as we ventured along a similar route to the one we had taken the night before. The Athens’ flea-market did not disappoint, however it became increasingly clear to me that this was much less a market than it was a large collective of, as we would stay in the States, individual garage sales. Delving deeper (past the more commercial vendors), we happened upon booths of miscellaneous items belonging to individual sellers: antique books, neighbored by rusty cutlery, records, jumper cables, and other random household items is just a brief description of what we saw. I find it especially interesting that a majority of buyers were Greek as well, meaning that the booths were not simply tourist lures. It caused me to think a bit about our culture’s admiration towards new items, and the consequential lack of attention we have on buying used, but perfectly functional goods (see below).
In sum, this past 36 hours has been one grueling, yet unforgettable sprint. After a exceptional meal at a 1960’s house-turned-restaurant, it is time for me to say goodnight.
Kalinichta.
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