Reflections

I'm a month removed from my "journey of a lifetime" and for the first time since being given this assignment, I am actually pleased to do a blog. I must admit, extracting the details of my journey and regurgitating them back in electronic form became very tedious after awhile. I kept listening to a song quote over and over again on the trip and that was "I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass." Every time I would hear that song I would try to take each moment, every step, every sight and sound and just try to commit it to memory as best that I could. Of course, to avoid complete sensory overload, I also used this as a conduit to store my memories and moments that I may otherwise forget.

While in Greece, I thought that each day went by at the speed of a crippled snail. The amount of trips and events compiled on top of actual school work left me stuck in a vortex of what seemed like a never ending of ancient architecture and sweltering heat. The days ran together because of the climate, but I remember distinctly that almost every day I was in Greece had those cliche cultural encounters that make you step out of your skin for a little bit and pinch yourself to see if you are dreaming. I hope I was able to document some of those moments well enough in the previous blogs to really help you commandeer my mindset while abroad, if only for a fleeting few moments.

Assimilating back into the American culture wasn't as difficult as I thought it was going to be initially. Granted, I was very happy to have access to fast food, separate checks, and the ability to flush my toilet paper in the toilet; but I thought I would really have trouble with the people and the lack of hospitality that I sometimes encounter while stateside. It didn't take me long to understand that my generalizations of some cultures were rather unwarranted. I had gone into Greece thinking that every culture had their quirks and comparisons were difficult, but you could still carve out behavioral universals and use those as a red herring to distract you from the good or bad things that accompany all cultures.

There are many parts of Greece that I find myself missing on a regular basis. One is just the natural history that accompanies the landscape. Even the oldest monuments and structures in the United States are babies in comparison to these behemoths of stone and human ingenuity. When you look around a city like Athens and try to imagine that you are standing on the mirage of modernity built upon layers and layers of history, you really start to appreciate and grasp just how small you are. In the U.S., you don't get that sense of wonder as often. Things that are 300 and 400 years old just don't seem that impressive when you've spent an afternoon in the heights (and heat) of Delphi. Still though, you are able to return to places like the U.S. and the major metropolises of this world and marvel in man's greatness as you witness how far we have come as a species.

My time in Greece helped me grow as a student, a American and a human being. Having spent my entire life immersed in a hybrid Asian-American cross culture, to enter a world as unique as Greece and to interact with her people is an experience that will shape me for the rest of my life. I loved everything about my time in Greece and know that I will be seeing the crystal blue waters of the Aegean sooner than I believe.

"I'm Lovin' It"...But Nobody Else Is

Fast food is seen by many as a spawn of American ingenuity. For all of its delicious, processed, artery clogging side effects, fast food has taken on a culture of its own, and spread like a wildfire throughout the globe. Global fast food is not American fast food. Corporations like McDonald's and Pizza Hut have found ways to market their very Western products to a culturally diverse and unique environment. The trademark golden arches and the little red roof still famously adorn the establishments scattered across Greece and other nations I've visited, but the change and subsequent culture shock happens as you step through the doors, into another world.

I know what you're thinking: "Why the heck are you going to a McDonald's while you are in Greece? You should be eating actual Greek cuisine!". Well, I'm here to tell you that your outrage is warranted and normally I would agree with you. In the case of this McDonald's though, I think of few places where I've had a more unique and eye opening Greek meal. Furthermore, I was actually prompted to go eat at a Greek McDonald's by my Greek peers and my Greek PR professor. They made the claim that there was no experience quite like it, especially as we approach the month of "fasting" in which Greek diet becomes very limited. The inside is designed with the same terrible style as the American chain, the overuse of 70's brown, tile and horrendous red and yellow trim run rampant throughout the cramped space and provide a nice aesthetic feel of America. The menu is where things get dicey.

The words are in English, subtitled with Greek, but I feel like I'm staring at a foreign substance. I immediately recognize the staple BigMac and McFish meals that grace every McDonald's chain in the world, but you move your eyes slightly to the left and realize your not in Kansas anymore. Squid burgers, octopus sandwiches, eggplant fries and similar dishes adorn the bright yellow menu to quite the shock of a certain American. None of the foods were foreign to me, but seeing them on a McDonald's menu caught me relatively off guard. I had seen a similar trend in Korea, where bulgogi burgers replaced cheeseburgers, but to see such a drastic change in selection from a European nation was very unique. This phenomenon is not so shocking when you look at it from the perspective of the Greeks.

First off, there was nobody in the place. A McDonald's franchise is not complete without the barrage of screaming from overanxious children and the collective groans of their handlers, this had none of it. I have visited ancient monasteries on this trip that were more rambunctious than this place. It was the normal Greek lunchtime, on a weekend, and the place was as silent as a crypt. That should have been my first indicator that maybe fast food isn't the crack of the Greek people. After pondering awhile over my octopus burger, I realized that meat doesn't seem to play the behemoth role in Greek diets that it does in American ones. Meat is still very important and is served with every meal, but in smaller quantities, and as an accompaniment to the vegetables and grains. In the States, meat is the main event and everything else is subsidiary. It could also be that the Greeks trust their local butchers to get their meat rather than imported and processed goop that we call "beef". I've commented on the community ties in Greece before, and part of that stems from knowing exactly who sells you every fruit, vegetable and leg of lamb while subsequently knowing where your groceries came from before being stored. It is that well placed suspicion as well as the culinary culture that probably turns the Greeks off to fast food, even with a specially prepared menu.

Fast food also doesn't facilitate the Greek style of dining. Greeks enjoy taking their time with meals, enjoying conversations with friends as seen in the cafes and coffee shops around the country; but fast food is not meant to foster those sorts of relationships. Fast food is catered to the Western "go, go, go" mentality where taste is secondary to sustenance. A Greek, when posed with a lunch decision, is more likely to go to one of these locally owned cafes (there's the community aspect again) rather than the chain because that is what they are more comfortable with. Time isn't the issue here like it is in the states; but if they start making octopus burgers as good as the one I had, I might start enjoying the savory McDonald's flavors a little bit more.

It doesn't take much to realize that despite obvious similarities, fast food giants have had a tough time translating their product to the overseas environment. That doesn't mean that they haven't found success, but they've had to adopt different strategies that almost muddle the idea of what a true McDonald's product is anyways. You'll still see a McDonald's in virtually every country of the world, but to see the chain that is so recognizable American serving foods that are distinctly foreign puts into perspective the world we live in today. Much is made over how big a role globalization is playing in our society, but to see McDonald's integrated into a culture with different views on food, health and the general practice of dining is a very interesting experience. I was pleased with my McDonald's experience, even though there was no one to share it with me. I took solace in the fact that at least some culture, somewhere, has not caved in to the addictive pleasantries of fast food and life on the go.

Smiles and Tears

I didn't think I could meet any nation of people that could hold a candle to the Japanese in the "pride" category, but Greece has come closer than any other nation I've ever visited. Pride is a not a unique or desirable trait for any one person to have too much of, but in an entire nation, it becomes remarkable and a source from which strength is drawn. Greece has been put through the gauntlet of watching their public debt skyrocket, foreign relations with the European Union deteriorate, and their unemployment relentlessly climb to catastrophic levels; all of this in the past half decade.  The funny thing is, you could never tell by just walking around. Community parks still echo with children's laughter, businesses appear to be run as normal, homeless individuals and drifters are absent from view, and the streets are devoid of any hint of unrest. Had I not seen hundreds of online articles and news stories, I wouldn't have even been able to tell that Greece was even going through one of the worst economic crises in history. What's the biggest concealer of this horrifying ordeal? The people.

As I've written before, the Greeks are a cautious people; they are friendly, but curious about any strangers that enter their domains. Shopkeepers in neighborhoods like Aghia Paraskevi act more like concerned community members rather than meticulous salesman, and it is a fact that I admire greatly about these people. In the face of overwhelming adversity, the community ties that weave this entire nation together seem to have only gotten stronger at a glance. The platia of our neighborhood seems as boisterous and rambunctious as ever. Nowhere to be found are the long faces akin to the children of Sombertown post-burgermeister or the depravity that was so eloquently and entertainingly portrayed on CNN and Fox News. There is still this sense that, through it all, these people believe that something like this can't conquer them. I'm sure there are passionate and emotional moments behind closed doors, but in public, these people put on a face of hope like none other.

Thinking back on the American financial depression, I recall at how bitter many people became. We were so eager to point the finger at everyone we thought responsible, and in more cases than not, it would show. The Greek people are obviously angry, upset, and bitter about their current state of affairs, as evidenced by their conflicted response in the elections last month, but they are more content to run things business than sulk in their misfortune. You could see the signs of the recession on American streets, closed businesses and empty parking lots were common, and the 99% flooded every cable news network and occupied public domain for months on end. I've yet to see a demonstration or protest in my rather lengthy stay in the country, and I can count on one hand the number of closed businesses I've seen. Business is obviously down, restaurants don't fill like they should and the tourist traps have thin population counts; but the Greeks still set aside three hours a day for friends and coffee, enjoying life amidst the hidden chaos raging around them, out of sight, but very much in mind.

It is one thing to carry on as though nothing is wrong, but it is another to act like it consistently. The famous Greek hospitality, that many have claimed has faded away with the hope of economic recovery, is still very much alive in the country and it is something that the people obviously take great pride in. Shop owners will sill offer free nick-knacks if you are a regular customer, grocery stores will pay it forward by paying for all your purchases with not a second thought about it, diners will bring out complimentary dessert just to say thank you for your business, it is incredible. You know that all this hospitality is costing them a great deal financially, but if you try to refuse, they poignantly deny your refusal request and give you the item anyway before you can utter a retort. Little things like this show me that the Greeks are not going to let this crisis mar their identity or define who they are, they are a proud people with a storied history that transcends modern comprehension, they can beat this crisis. What is better yet, they believe they can.

One of the most definitive pieces of evidence of pride that I can offer happened a few weeks ago here in Athens. I had read before coming to Greece that the Greek National Football Team was the last great hope of the Greek people, and the collective mood of the people all hinged on their performance in the Euro 2012 tournament. Forced into a rough win or go home scenario against Russia, many Greeks brushed off the chance for the team to beat a very talented Russian team, but they all said the same thing: "we have hope". Seeing the way they reacted after the 1-0 victory gave me only a brief glimpse into the Greek state of mind, they felt invincible after the win, and though they knew their next opponent was the powerhouse German side, Greece felt as though their boys could win it all. That was clear a week later when the group visited the platia down the road for the game, the entire town had come out to witness the spectacle, and every bar and cafe was standing room only. The unmistakable blue and white jerseys made ripples like a river in the bars and chants erupted from every corner of the square, and did not fall silent even after the Germans struck first. When the Greeks pulled the equalizer, it was as though they had just received an anonymous donation for two billion euros. There was no greater display of pride than the honking of every motorized vehicle in sight and the fans rushing out into the streets and climbing the lamp posts, you would have thought they had just won the whole tournament. The crowds became more and more silent as the night went on when the Greeks fell on the wrong side of a 4-2 drubbing. You would have expected the depression to set in at this moment, but even here, after losing everything in heartbreaking fashion, there remained an uncanny optimism. The Greek fans were proud of how tough they played a very dominant German team, and were able to crack a smile and share laughs even in the face of defeat. I've been a part of the somber death march out of the stadium as I watched my favorite American football team succumb to defeat, and I can tell you that the number of optimists are few and far between. To see such concession and pride, even in a truly dark moment, shows the true colors of these people.

The Japanese are a tough cookie to crack, ever the stoic and calculating people. Their pride bests all other nations that I have been to in my short time on this Earth, and I've been to a few. That being said, the Greeks have gone to show that they are far from irrelevant in this world, despite what the international community may think. This nation is on the ropes and bleeding, but the unrelenting and uncompromising soul and pride of these people will be the catalyst to give Greece the push it needs, to get back into the fight.

Check Please!

We're down to almost a week left on this adventure, and I'm coming to terms with that. My time in Greece has been absolutely incredible thus far and it feels as though I'm going to be here forever. I'm starting to realize that the clock is ticking and that any last minute experiences or trips need to be put on a high priority list before we leave. I will miss Greece tremendously and the hardest part about leaving is accepting that you might not be coming back. It is something I feel every time I leave my home in Misawa, my parents' time in Japan is starting to dwindle from what I can tell, so every visit to Misawa from here on out could be my last. There are so many specific things I will miss about this place, and the unwritten "no separate checks" rule will not be one of them.

I love going out to eat in Greece. Not only does it prevent me from having to exert effort to create food (pasta), but it provides me an immersion into the culture that you can't get eating in the dorms. All of us have our favorites in Aghia Paraskevi, and they all serve different types of foods and fabricate different kinds of atmospheres. These establishments all carry the same fatal flaw though, no separate checks. Imagine, you go out with your friends to a Greek cafe and you all order large meals and drinks of varying degree and price; after your meal, you call over the waiter for the check and he hands you a bill for 80 euros, your head almost certainly will explode. You can ask for a separate check, but all that is returned to you is a blank stare of confusion and misunderstanding. They know what you're trying to say, but don't know what you're saying it. Separate checks are a thing of mystery in Greece, a legend not unlike Bigfoot and Nessie in the simple fact that they most likely don't exist. It is extraordinarily frustrating to be forced to convert complicated math equations in your head after a wonderful meal. On more than one occasion, I'm sure that I've over or underpaid in some fashion or another which means some of my classmates or I are getting screwed each time we go out to eat.

Apparently this stems from  the Greek family oriented style of dining. They go out to eat together as a group, and one person usually mans up and pays for the whole thing. It is a sign of dominance, of power, or a sign of the guy who drew the short stick in the car. Americans loathe the group check. Occasionally, some of us will take it upon ourselves to pay for the group, but that is usually limited to when relatives come to visit or after reading Oprah's "Pay It Forward" initiative. We like our checks how we like our food, separate from everyone else. Most Greek "traditional" dining is family style, with the group sharing the pre-set dishes that are brought out before them. This style rarely appears in American culinary culture as we are more content to pick our individual meals and refuse to share unless prompted. That is why we are even more content to pick up our own checks; why should I pay for anyone else when I didn't share in their spoils? I've grown so used to this style that having to assimilate to the group check for five weeks has been maddening to say the least, but there are ways to prepare yourself for the stress after the meal.

Ordering food becomes a strategic mathematical equation that each of us beings to solve before finalizing our decision. Since I mainly carry large bills and cannot make smaller amounts as easily, I look for items that round off to even euro amounts so that I get exactly the change I need. That way when the group check comes out, I know that if I put in a 20 for my 10 euro meal, there better be 10 euros entering my wallet or there will be hell to pay. Everyone has their own ritual, and immediately after ordering, someone whips out the napkin and starts figuring out how much everyone owes and how much everyone should get back. It is an arduous process, but it ensures that no one is overpaying or getting short changed in anyway. If I was on a decent salary, occasionally, I might offer to pick up the check every once in awhile. Until Greek restaurants start accepting scholarship vouchers though, I'm going to have to settle for paying for my own meal.

Getting to Emotional Climax of Movie? ...How About A Smoke Break?

I do what most Americans do when they watch TV or go to the movies, I go to get completely engrossed in another world and just forget about life for awhile. That is what entertainment is to us, a way to escape from the outside world. In Greece, the purpose of the cinema differs greatly. The same concept I explained in my post about the coffee shops is true for the movie theatre as well, it is a hub for social interaction, not independent entertainment. That is why I was fairy annoyed during our premier viewing of The Amazing Spider-Man when, in the middle of a very emotional scene, the screen gives way to some sort of animated commercial about laundry detergent and I was one of the first to wonder what in the world was going on. After calming the inner fan boy, I started to think that maybe there was a technical difficulty or that there was going to be some poignant explanation and apology for why I was violently ripped from the magical world of Spider-Man. I did not enjoy the answer I was given.

The Greeks apparently aren't as prone to sitting through a two hour movie continuously like we are, they require a built in time slot to allow them a visit to the snack bar. Once I got past my initial furious demeanor and accepted this cultural phenomenon, I started to wonder about the implications should such a thing happen in an U.S. movie theatre. I was granted visions of mass hysteria and 80's B-movie violence complete with Stallone representing "THE LAW"! It would not fly with an American audience. As stated above, we go to movies to become lost in the world of anothers reation; and to be taken out of that by an add and a 15 minute intermission would cause tremendous irritation. The Greeks don't go to the cinema to become lost though, it serves as more of a coffee shop with a show. The audience of mostly Greek nationals were talking throughout most of the movie, an action that would annoy some, and aside from the young boys dispersed amongst the crowd, seemed genuinely disinterested in the epic saga of good vs. evil. It occurred to me that the movie was more of a background effect for the people and that they were intently focused on their conversations. Maybe the dialogue was about the movie, but my guess was that it wasn't. Now, before you jump to the conclusion of the Greeks are rude because they talk during movies, take a moment and breathe. The Greeks were very courteous and respectful to those that actually wanted to watch, but you could tell that wasn't the reason that many of them came. They came with friends, they came with family and they were enjoying each other more than this poorly paced action flick. If our family constructs were anywhere near as strong as the Greeks, we would admire them for that, but instead, my American conditioning forced me to have to stifle angry shouts and "shushes".

My experience wasn't bad, it was just different. American movie theatres are dark caverns of silence and mind-numbing entertainment; and that works for us. We love it, we crave it, we'll shell out $8.50 of general admission costs to get to it. It is just the way things work. The Greeks don't spend every Friday night out at the cinema to watch the same Shakespearean script be set on a different planet and to a rockin' soundtrack. We go to the movies, to watch the movie. They go to the movies, to talk with one another, see their friends and enjoy the ambiance of the movie and theatre. It works, and aside from the inconvenient intermission, I really didn't mind that at all. Just wish I would have had a bit of forewarning beforehand. Speaking of the intermission, I really don't know why everyone was so eager to go the snack bar during the break. The place was devoid of any cavity causing substance aside from over-salted popcorn and coffee! No Milk Duds, no Sno-Caps, no Sour Punch Straws, NOTHING! I don't know what the American issue is with movies and unhealthy sweets, but that bug has not bitten the Greeks whatsoever.

Another thing I forgot to mention about my movie experience was the locale. The talking Greeks didn't bother me near at all, that is part of their culture and I accepted that very quickly. What bothered me were the damn birds chirping in the tree located inside the theater. This theatre, like many in the traditional style, was outdoors. No roof, no dark labyrinths of seats and sticky floors, just an open rock pit with a screen and some collapsible chairs. The movie had begun to start and the sun had not yet set behind the hills of the Attica basin. It was an incredible thing to see and the movie choice definitely helped me tone out the traffic sounds of Iouanou in the background. It was something as simple as an outdoor movie theatre that made me realize how far away I was from the cultures I'd been used to. This just seemed much more timeless and traditional, even if coated in a faux paint of modernity. I've been trying to stress the little things while writing these memoirs and this experience is one of them. I may not remember exactly what the Temple of Poseidon looked like in 40 years, but I'll remember the fact that I watched an American blockbuster outdoors in true Greek fashion.

"Cut Off One Head, Two More Shall Take Its Place"

Crystal blue waters.

Hydrofoils are a neat idea and lots of fun, but upon initially boarding the Flying Dolphin II, I was transported back to one of the more traumatic memories of my childhood. During my first visit to Australia, we took a high powered, speedy yacht called the Quicksilver out into the Great Barrier Reef. Being only 9 years old and highly prone to motion sickness, I quickly was incapacitated by the rough seas off the Australian coast leading me to head for the railing of the ship. As a 9 year old, I wasn't quite yet familiar with the natural mechanics of "physics" and released that morning's breakfast over the side of the ship. A few seconds later the bile is caught by the wind and strewn all over the large glass windows of the cruiser's main deck, sending other passengers running for their own respective railing. While not as prone to motion sickness as I once was, the choppy waters of the open seas can still cause the faint twinge of nausea every now and again, as well as the painful essence of nostalgia. Thankfully, a 6 AM wake up after getting less than two hours of sleep easily cures potential nausea by causing a complete loss of consciousness over the hydrofoil's entire journey. I woke to turquoise waters and the whitewashed buildings of our destination, the isle of Hydra.

Hydra.

Hydra is a unique Greek island via the fact that it has no cars save a garbage truck and a fire truck; the only true way to navigate this mountainous island is on foot or by donkey. Compared to Athens, Hydra is serene and peaceful, with the ceaseless noise of traffic replaced by the gentle lapping of the turquoise water against the docks. The small coastal village that we arrived at was once the home of revolutionary pirates and the cannons that used to adorn the fort at the harbor's mouth still remain, albeit dormant from lack of use across the centuries. Hydra's buildings scale up the side of the hilly terrain and the white washed buildings give the entire locale a distinct look that is postcard worthy. Though this quiet village and island have eventually succumbed to the relentless plague of tourism, it still holds its small town charms once you are able to stray off the beaten path.

More boats than cars.

This day was purely a relaxation day with no educational obligations. After a brief tour of the village and some historical perspective on the island, we were freed for almost five hours to do whatever we liked. Naturally, all of us immediately rounded the pedestrian path along the cliff line and headed for the nearest beach. The waters of the Saronic Gulf are as cool as the Aegean if not calmer. Which provided a much more relaxing swim than Sounion. I have grown accustomed over this trip to the notoriously rocky "beaches" of Greece and having to stumble and wince over scalding stones to reach the water becomes quite the nuisance after several trips. The group roasted under the sun until it was time to leave and enjoyed a marvelous lunch back in the village and were once again freed to do as we pleased. During this time, I spoke to a few villagers and shopkeepers briefly and became very curious about Hydra's development.

Lounging in the cool waters of the Saronic.

Hydra is obviously geographically separated from the mainland but there are no significant cultural differences to speak of. It is a Greek island like all the rest with inhabitants that possess a fierce sense of national pride; except here at Hydra, that pride seemed almost doubled. Hydra was once a powerful, independent fortress that controlled the narrow strait of the gulf with powerful cannons and swift ships. According to our guide, Hydra was an economic and naval powerhouse leading up to and throughout the Greek War of Independence. The pirate ships of Hydra became notorious harassers of Turkish shipping lines and their naval skills were unmatched. Walking around Hydra, you see evidence of this maritime history everywhere. Cannons, anchors, and replicas of ancient ships can be seen across the island, but the most curious piece of evidence is the flag. Alongside the blue and white Greek flag fluttering in the breeze; is a strange design of blue and red, coated with several maritime emblems. I learned later that this flag is the official flag of the island, designed during the Greek War for Independence. It adorned all of the ships, buildings and shops of the island and you could sense that Hydra still recognized its own independence and value in some way. Such separate national pride from a well established territory was shocking and would akin to Mississippi or Virginia still flying the Confederate flag today. Little things like these cultural developments intrigue me more so than any column or ruin because they relate to the people, and the greatest measurement of a nation's history is the development of its citizens.

Hydra flag, Greek flag, EU flag.

Hail Hydra!

Hot Coffee

What do American teenagers do for fun? A simple question, yet one that I answered with a reluctant "Y'know...stuff". The question caught me completely off guard in class and I was frustrated that I couldn't come up with a glib, vague answer for. What do American teenagers do for fun? The question was brought up while discussing the Greek social interactions at their coffee shops and it was here that I realized the uniqueness of those coffee shop meetings. Every day, groups of men, women and older teens will gather in coffee shops anywhere from two to four hours and just talk, rarely sipping at their beverages at all. Now, other than the amount of time spent at the shop, this might not surprise anyone reading this, but when you realize that America doesn't really have an equivalent to this social ritual, you start to appreciate it a bit more.

Americans communicate on a largely impersonal and electronic basis. Our friends, family and acquaintances are all connected to us via mobile electronic devices and we gossip, coordinate and interact though these. Not exclusively of course, but enough that American social interaction has molded around the use of technology. The Greeks are not technologically incompetent by any means and use the same methods of communication as we do, but for a different purpose. The Greeks get their fix of gossip and social interaction in their daily coffee shop visits with friends. It is here that all of the business of the community, politics, and interpersonal discourse is conducted and in a very intimate style and setting. A group of men will sit aside the street at one of Aghia Paraskevi's many coffee shops and not move for hours, just watching, sitting and talking. It is fascinating to watch and you can only wonder what they can talk about for so long without tiring of each other's company. I reflect upon my own conversations and realize that they typically do not last any longer than two hours, at an absolute maximum. To catalyse a conversation, I usually have to be doing something with the friend or family member I am conversing with. An American family will rarely say, "Lets go down to the local cafe and just talk" but rather "Lets go down to the mall and shop". Both activities facilitate the same function, but in different styles. The American style is much more impersonal, requiring the medium of shopping to force any sort of interaction whatsoever, the Greeks don't need that medium.

Neither style is good or bad, this is not a critique of cultures; it is merely different than what I'm used to seeing. To see a community so intertwined is a sight that one rarely gets in America. In Jacksonville, where everything is connected by highways and roads, it is hard to achieve that sense of community outside your immediate neighborhood. In Athens, all communities are interdependent and independent, each with their own town square, coffee shops, butchers and family owned grocery stores. It creates a different dynamic between the people, like a hundred small towns comprising one big city. When looking at the coffee shops, you can just tell that the people in them are talking about the same issues and individuals that others in subsequent coffee shops are talking about. The interaction is so family oriented and you can tell how vital it is to the well being of the community just by observing how many people frequent these coffee shops on a daily basis, and how long they stay.

Another curious habit that differs from American interaction is the focus on commodities, or in this case, coffee. When Americans ask one another out to get coffee, it is usually to do just that, acquire a cup of coffee; everything else tends to be superfluous. The Greeks ask each other to go get coffee and rarely touch the coffee they order. The coffee is just a bonus to the conversation, as opposed to the conversation being opposed to the coffee. This is where you could argue that Americans may be more materialistic than Greeks, and that may be true to some extent, but it just goes to show the value we put on interpersonal communication compare to other countries. As Americans, we like to focus on getting to know our family and friends, and outside of that, nothing else really matters. The Greeks make a conscious effort to connect with almost every aspect of their community, to keep tabs on all daily matters. Neither one is the right choice, they are just born out of completely differently lifestyles that these two nations possess.

It is worth it to go to Athens and just sit in a coffee shop and watch people. The idiosyncrasies that they all possess are more foreign than any substance, food or ritual. You can tell just by looking at how comfortable everyone is that this is an integral part of their life. Older people having intense political debates in one corner, younger people laughing and sharing cigarettes in another, women quietly handling their affairs in the adjacent corner. All of these little moments ultimately weave into the greater fabric of the Greek community, and witnessing that first hand makes you realize just how different our two western nations are.

Cliffs of Poseidon

Happy 4th of July! While everyone back stateside is firing up their grills and keeping the fireworks away from the kids, I'm up early on my off day to prepare for an all-day excursion to the coastal region of Sounion. Sounion is the home of the famous Temple of Poseidon and some of the best beaches on the Greek mainland. It was meant to be our July 4th getaway with most of our time spent lounging about on the beaches of Sounion, but seeing the Temple of Poseidon was by far the highlight of the day.

The Temple of Poseidon at Sounion is one of the better preserved temples that we've come across thus far in by far one of the most scenic locations. You can see the temple columns from the coastal road that you use to access the site and it doesn't take long to realize how massive the structure must have been. All that remains now are a handful of eight or so columns sitting about in a neatly organized and professional fashion, atop a cliff that makes you question the sanity and ingenuity of its Greek architects. The temple looks outward over the Aegean Sea, expected since Poseidon was the God of the Ocean, but how close it was to the edge of the cliff was rather disturbing.

Poseidon's home sits only a few meters from the edge of the soft stone cliff that, overtime, will give way to erosion by the high winds seen at the top and the crashing waves below. To see something so old survive the immense natural pressures that must have been put on it over the centuries was impressive beyond words. I've seen modern steel structures been ripped apart by wind and I'm sure the temple has seen its fair share of storms, high winds and hurricanes yet it still stands like an unconquerable behemoth. I suppose one day it may fall into the sea, but almost 3000 years later, the winds of nature have not brought down this structure of ancient man.

The stop was very aesthetically pleasing but I feel as though we may have dwelled too long at the site. Despite the venerable nature of the temple, the site is very bland considering others we had seen and the views of the endless Aegean Sea below are the only true attractions to hold a tourists attention for longer than a half hour. My willingness to leave may have been amplified by my hunger and the always persistent heat from the sun that beat us down as we lingered atop the treeless cliff. With beaches, food and the first relaxation day that we had known in quite some time, it was normal to feel a bit antsy about moving on to the next site. Still, I had to take one more look at the structure before I left, to appreciate its size and its defiance to the will of nature.

After a delicious lunch and much griping about the heat, we arrived at our beach destination and eagerly bounded into the salty water to escape the clutches of Apollo's wrath. The water was remarkably cold  given the heat of the day and though refreshing, left a lingering chill that even treading water could not quell. I was surprised at how quickly the bottom dropped off into the deep. From the shore I saw a dozen or so people calmly bobbing in the waters 200 yards away and assumed that sandbar or some other natural formation was there to aid these people in staying afloat. As I got out to where these people were, I realized how terribly wrong my assumption was. I don't know what Greek Coast Guard Academy these people graduated from, but the amount of time they spent treading water was nothing short of inhuman. I'll be the first to tell you that I'm not the strongest swimmer and that the initial panic I felt had to be quickly suppressed by my passionate focus on getting back to shore. I stopped for a moment and found myself treading water much longer than I was normally used to and saw the waves gently pushing me out towards the gulf. Damn current.

The fight back to shore was a struggle, but it only took me five minutes or so to get back to standing water. I wasn't as far out as I initially thought so a few Olympic style backstrokes and course corrections and I was easily back in my comfort zone. I was quite proud of my ability to analyse the situation and rely on my limited swimming ability to get me safely back to shallow waters, but it made me think that I made need to take a class or two to up my general aquatic proficiency. After an hour or some more of embracing the cool water, I returned to shore to listen to remixed 80's hits play over the loudspeakers and drift off into a peaceful slumber of salt and sunburn.

Soccer: An International Language (That Americans Can't Understand)

I've noticed that sometimes the most unexpected events wind up being the most rewarding. Things that are just spur of the moment, unplanned acts of will and whim are going to be the things that I remember about this trip long after it has passed, Monday was no exception. Following our Monday night group potluck, a few of our group decided to take a soccer ball we found up to the community soccer field a few blocks from our dorm. Initial expectations were to just go up there and have a place to burn off the delicious overdose of pasta all of us had inhaled. As we approached the field, we could see it was crowded and that finding a place to play would be difficult, but it wasn't the amount of people that was the most difficult obstacle to overcome. You could almost hear the snapping of necks as essentially all 100 or so people on the field whipped their heads around to look at the white people strolling through their gated community. I felt like the Jamaican bobsled team stepping onto the track at the Calgary games. With their eyes locked onto our every move, we found a dirt and rock alcove at the far end of the turf field and decided to try and seem as harmless as possible with our little game of keep away.

It wasn't long after we began our debacle of a children's soccer game that we realized getting picked up in a community match was slim to none. Most of the group had either never played organized soccer before or were still watching Power Rangers on Saturday mornings the last time they did play. Four or five of the group realized it wasn't worth their time and returned to the safe, awkward-less confines of our dorms to live out better days. That left Rebecca, Corey, the Kaplan's son Jeremiah and myself to bask under the soft glow of the field lights as the red clay caked our shoes in dusty silence. We debated trying to insert ourselves into once of the many pickup games taking place on the field and it was a process that took much longer than expected. It was like a game of human Minesweeper, with all of us trying to find excuses to inch closer and closer to the field. I felt this extraordinary rush of excitement and accomplishment as I set foot on the turf field for the first time, before proceeding to kick the ball towards a broken down net shoved carelessly in a dirty corner. I desperately wanted to do something competitive and that was when we finally mustered up the courage to at least start a conversation with one of the players.

As we waited and watched for players to slowly thin out, leaving more and more room open on the field, we struck up conversation with a young girl who was strapping on her soccer boots over near where we were. The conversation was timid at first, words were deliberately chosen to make sure that no message was muddled in our attempt to invite ourselves into a completely foreign world. The girl spoke very good English and after lowering ourselves hip deep into the waters of Greek soccer with a quick shoot around, we saw the locals gathering for the start of a new pickup match.

You couldn't understand a word, but you could tell by their tone that the local kids (who ranged from 15-19 years of age) were reluctant to accept these outsiders into their merry band of footballers. After some discussion, the teams were set and we were ushered off to our respective sides of the field to prepare for the beginning of the match. It didn't take long to look around and notice that they had stuck all of us Americans on one side, leaving us one Greek girl to balance out the sides against much more experienced and skilled players. I knew that the collective soccer experience of our All-American group rivaled that of a seven year old bantam league player, but I figured if we could show flashes of brilliance to keep from getting embarrassed, this might be fun. We occupied a small section at the north end of the field and would be playing the width of the field instead of the regulation, so as not to disturb the national team hopefuls playing the remaining length of the turf space. After quick introductions, kick off was underway and our Greek soccer experience rested on the ever changing whims of luck.

It only took me a few minutes into the match to realize that there was a thin sliver of hope on the horizon. Rebecca and our Greek captain Helen, had several nice chances to break open the scoring early in our favor. Unfortunately, our side attended the "Cristiano Ronaldo School of Finishing Shots" and weren't able to put the ball in the net. The local side's counter attack was relentless and a blistering shot from a few yards out was too much for our 8th grade goalkeeper to handle. 1-0. Taking this as a precursor of the beating to come, I started to play more aggressively from my defensive position and was able to forward the ball awkwardly up to Helen who dribbled around the local defense like they were cardboard cutouts and punched one past their keeper. 1-1. And there was much rejoicing.

2 1/2 hours later and countless numbers of goals scored (on both ends) the match finally came to an end. As the game progressed, bonds formed and it became less of an organized friendly match against Greek and Americans and more of a bunch of kids fooling around on the pitch. Kids would join teams and leave them as they wished and we had lots of fun trading goals back and forth with these very friendly and very talented young men and women. The locals English was passable but most of the international dialogue was communicated in the form of curse words rather than syntax. We notably lost the match but I took solace and a certain pride in the fact that the four of us were able to hang with these local stars. We scored numerous times, made awkward plays look somewhat flashy and all put together a solid performance for a bunch of fish out of water. It was one of those wow moments that made me realize the significance of what was going on around me. Teenagers from completely different worlds, cultures, backgrounds gathering together on a field and just playing a game. We could have all been mutes, no words needed to be spoken, international and domestic issues plaguing both of our nations seeped out of our bodies like sweat. For those 2 1/2 hours, fun was the only thing that mattered.

It is hard to explain how much a simple game like soccer can mean to a people. For Americans, sports are generally more complex. Our more popular sports like football and baseball all require a certain amount of players and equipment to properly facilitate a competitive game. Even basketball requires a special hoop and court to be able to function at all. Soccer is different though, it is something that can be played with just a ball and some stones to denote where the goal is. It is a simple game, a beautiful game, and you can tell the Greek's take great pride in participating in the sport. Walking onto the field for the first time was an interesting experience once you got past the starting. Kids from all over the neighborhood, both young and old, were engaged in something much more than a game, it was a training ground for social interaction. You learned who the big kids were and saw that the little ones didn't try to interfere with their game. You could observe the non-athletic teenagers sitting in the bleachers that adorned the right side of the field, carrying on private conversations but keeping an interested eye on the proceedings below them. Mixed groups of boys and girls fiercely battled for possession on the field, all equals and all striving for one single goal. Victory. It is easy when you are a child participating in youth league sports to realize that this is where respect, acceptance, social interaction, etiquette and patience are emphasized more so than victory, teamwork and sportsmanship. Just looking out on the field I could break down the social groups and where the dividing lines were drawn. The field was a mini model of the community of Aghia Paraksevi, and its inhabitants mimicked their off the field counterparts.

I was able to get names and Facebooks of my teammates and competitors and walked off the field exhausted in every sense of the word, but invigorated with a new sense of wonder and curiosity about how much soccer, and sports in general mean to the world. Sports are so much more than silly games kids and boys play, they are teaching tools. Schools can stress all the curriculum they want in the classroom, but the lessons that the local Greek kids and I will retain are the ones we learned in between the lines.

Clash of the Titans (Ancient vs Modern)

An interesting discussion came up today in our class with Dr. Kaplan. The discourse was about perception, and mostly about how the Greeks perceive these great historic monuments that litter their country. Naturally, as Americans, we believe that the Greeks view these monuments with great reverence and adoration, and to an extent that may be true. When you consider the other factors regarding these monuments however, you start to see how these beautiful ancient structures may be more of a nuisance than a commodity.

Thousands of years ago, places like Corinth and the Athenian agora were places of extreme cultural, religious and historical importance and they served as the focal point of ancient Greek culture. They were the forerunners of the current Greek "platia" that we see scattered amongst the neighborhoods of Athens and other Greek cities. As years go by, these centers start to draw the attention of prominent European and American archeologists and they began to force their way into a culture that has existed for generations before the emergence of the archeological study. So what now was once their main hub of socialization, religion, entertainment and economy has been walled off by rich imperialists, who want nothing more than to tear the current foundations down to reveal the cultural gold beneath the rock. For the Greeks, you can understand to an extent how that would be particularly distressing, to have life as you know it uprooted and moved x amount of miles away to suit the whims of foreigners. To some though, it may seem like a necessary evil.

These landmarks have become literal roadblocks for the Greek people. Their centuries old long commute to their cultural centers are detoured in favor of tourism, and life as they knew it must have seemed to turn upside down on the spot. That scourge of foreigners also serves as silver lining for the Greeks whether they like it or not. Tourism is one of the major industries of Greece and is one of the main industries that, despite the recent economic struggles, are still afloat. Though hundreds of years of tradition and history were struck down to unearth these marvelously beautiful ancient ruins, the cash that these locations have brought in over the centuries should be welcome to the country. It isn't just the fees being paid by tourists that directly funnel into the local community, it is the airline business that brings tourists in, hotels and beaches, small businesses that cater to tourists are all flourishing at the expense of their city center. Is it a sad thing that we have so forcefully caused a people to change their lifestyle? Yes. Adaptations are necessary for survival, and ask the Greeks to give their tourism money back and I'm sure they say no.

Whatever the Greek feelings are on these historic monuments, you can tell for certain that they genuinely care for these places. The Greeks are a fiercely proud people and these landmarks serve as a testament to the ingenuity and legacy of their ancestors. They don't want to see these places crumble under the weight of tourist expectations and pressure and defend the sanctity of their ancient heritage fiercely. In Delphi, some of our group was yelled at by guards for playing around with the Oracle Stone. The group was harmlessly reenacting a movie but I could see how the Greeks may have seen it as disrespectful. I made no qualms about it and carried on with my tour. The damage to the Greek culture was done by people who excavated these places long before I was born and I do not wish to further damage foreign relations. This is their country, I play by their rules. The emergence of these marvelous historic achievements from the depths of the Earth are incredible discoveries and indescribably beautiful, but when you look at the perspective of the people whom this land was taken from, you understand beauty comes at a price.  

Traversing the Isthmus

My eyes snap open at the sound of the alarm, and though it is pitch black and my iTouch is several feet from my grasp, I know what it says; "It is too damn early to be going to Corinth" it screams at me with every increasingly annoying beep. The nuclear missile silo alarm ripped right out of WarGames is an appropriate metaphor for the pure exhaustion I feel, but I remind myself to change it when I get back anyway. It is 6 AM and our weary band of travelers is off again to see more shards of history scattered about the land. Today, we were off to the famous Peloponnesian Peninsula, the site of many famous wars, battles, massacres and ancient civilizations. Needless to say, I was pretty excited once I got past the initial grogginess of the morning. Corinth was a much shorter trip than Delphi and one pleasure I get from being on the bus that early is being able to see Greece before she wakes. I sort of started this fascination with sleeping cities when I went home to Japan for Christmas. Jetlagged and bored at 4 AM, I wandered out of my hotel and walked aimlessly just to let the nostalgic feeling of happiness and comfort wash over me on my walkabout. While doing so, I looked around and noticed how eerily quiet and peaceful the world's largest city was. Of course that would change slightly in the more concentrated downtown regions of Tokyo, but my point has been made. Athens is just as groggy when it wakes up as American college students with the bustle of the afternoon hours absent in the early light, and staring out at the sleepy city and every closed shop and vacant street corner while listening to 80's slow jams is a relaxing way to start the morning.

The temple at Corinth

Corinth. I must say that I was rather unfamiliar with this location relative to the other places we had visited. I recognized the name from my studies of the Peloponnesian Wars, but knew little of the specific details about the city. It has a storied history for sure, and to see the ruins settled nicely at the feet of the acropolis lingering above was a postcard moment to highlight the morning. Personally, I've always been more interested in Roman History rather than Greek, so Corinth was a special treat for the likes of me. To see Roman columns and architecture strewn amongst the ruins of a once powerful Greek city was very neat. A clash of cultures and opposing forces is always a spectacle worth witnessing, especially when it is the two cultures that set the groundwork for what our lives are like today. We received a special tour from one of the archeologists who had spent most of her life dedicated to researching and unearthing the secrets of Corinth and the passion she showed for the site was clearly evidenced by the house she bought 100 yards from the dig. The stories and in depth knowledge she provided really helped me visualize what the place might have looked like all those years ago, and for the first time I was able to experience the sensation of imagining an ancient city at the height of its power.

Temple ruins.

The highlight of that morning though was not the ancient ruins or the glory of years past, but rather the trip we took to the archeologists house right after our tour. She graciously allowed 20 college students to invade her home and be treated to lemonade, corn bread, apple cake and oranges that must have been plucked from God's own candy bucket. Maybe this stands out in my mind because I have a tendency to forget breakfast before these long journeys; but I think it was the juiciest and sweetest oranges I had ever come across in my life. The half hour rest stop was the energy boost that many of us needed before proceeding on to the rest of our day.

Mycenae was next, and for those of you unfamiliar with the site, this was the realm and possible palace of King Agamemnon from the fabled Trojan War. The palace is home to several famous burial chambers that were used for ancient noble families of the region as well as some of the most spectacular views we had seen during our time in Greece. Climbing to the top of Brian Cox's (played Agamemnon in "Troy") palace provided a near 360 degree view of the surrounding area with flat plains dotted with mountains like me when I had chicken pox as a child. The coolest feature of the place though was an underground cistern that was used for water during sieges. The pitch black tunnel traveled 18 meters underground and was one of those moments where you couldn't believe people had dug out something so complex with rudimentary equipment. Astonishing.

The part about Greece that has already drawn my ire and continues to annoy is the heat. It can be brutal with clouds being as rare as Greeks who don't stare (rhyme bonus). It saps your energy and can leave the most eager of travelers resigned to sitting under a shady tree and gazing upon historic artifacts from afar. After Mycenae was when my strength really started to wane and I began to have to tell myself to pick up my feet and put them down again. This would have been fine on flat ground, but the Greeks would build a hill in the middle of a plain just so they could put stairs there. Seeing our next and final destination though, gave me a newfound burst of excitement and energy.

The town of Nafplio. Viewed from the top of a Venetian Castle.

The town of Nafplio is a picturesque sea side town that has the quaint charms of a small European town with the resources of a sizable city. Alleys of white cobblestone, hanging vines and sidewalk cafes made up most of the town by the sea and there were distinct instances where I cursed myself for not having a camera. Nafplio is even more impressive when seen from above. The mountain that looms over the city has an medieval fort resting on the top and the views from this castle fortress made me stop and just admire where I was and what I was doing. All of my qualms about hunger and heat disappeared as I just sat and stared out over the land below. It was one of the most peaceful moments in recent memory for me and a sight that I will not soon forget. Departing the castle was only soothed by the joys of getting to wander inside the city for a time.

Mary, Nicole, Hannah and I in Nafplio harbor. With the harbor castle in the background.

At lunch, I may have been a bit overeager with my consumption of food but no one there could dispute the fact that I was hungry. I polished off my own pork rolls marinated with peppers and tomatoes, a side plate of French fries and the large chicken gyro plate that my friend Katie had only snacked on. All of that protein washed down with beer must have been the Greek equivalent of Pop Rocks and Coke because I nearly doubled over from the pain of the stomach cramps I was having. Groaning most of the way, I trudged along with the small group I had broken off with as we headed to find a place near the water where we could spend our last hour in the Peloponnesian . It was a very relaxing hour filled with tanning and stupid "YOLO" moments like wading fully clothed into crystal blue waters before getting on a two hour bus ride back to Athens. It was one of the better and simpler moments of the trip and despite not starting off very grand or exciting, I believe that the trip to Corinth and Co. was my favorite day trip we have taken thus far.

First Day of School

School. The bane of our collective, teenage, angst filled existance. The fairytale of my trip to Greece came to a violent and screeching halt once we were forced to endure the actual objective of our journey, knowledge. Though the trips, views, sights and sounds will continue for the next month, the air of vacation that has hung blissfully over our odyssey since our arrival disappated without a farewell. It was a day we all knew was looming menacingly on the horizon of our journey, but we were ignorant in our happy, carefree state of tourism. It is feelings of pure happiness like that and the rude awakening that comes when it all slips from your fingers that make you loathe the wicked banshee of Mondays even more than you already do. All of the burdens and responsibilities so often attributed to college life are thrown back in your face after the long summer reprieve and needless to say, it takes some getting used to.

Our class with Dr. Kaplan is simple enough, read a book, discuss the book and write papers accordingly. It is nothing out of the ordinary (aside from the fact that it is in freakin' Greece), but it is familiar and you take solace in the fact that you know what is around every corner. You know what the teacher expects and how to succeed in that environment. School with the Greeks though, is a new kind of discomfort. The American College of Greece, or what I've seen of it anyway, is a shade of the American college experience. Certain fabrics of it are subtly placed to give the illusion of an American four year institution while others lurk waiting to take advantage of unsuspecting students such as myself. Few American students actually attend Deree, most of them are Greek and to hear the Greek language spoken so freely and commonly around the campus is expected because of that. You expect though that once you reach a classroom setting, the tone shifts to accomodate an international audience. In my International Public Relations class, that wasn't the case. I arrived just 10 minutes early for my class to find my classroom dark and devoid of all human life. I checked the room number, looked at my schedule and confirmed several times that this was the time and place I was supposed to be. All of my suspicions were relieved when I saw my professor come barreling up the ramp, sweating profusely and profanely wondering where all of the other students were. Little did I know, I was the first one to arrive, out of five. Such a small class size really caught me off gaurd. The only time I had ever been in a class size that small was in a one on one tutoring session so to see so many empty seats was really strange. It is odd having that much attention focused on you in a classroom as you feel like you have to devote every second of your focus to the professor or else.

The next day, after my awkward but informative tutoring session, more of the students showed up and started speaking Greek to the professor, unaware that the American sitting across from them was completely and utterly lost. When the professor requested they speak English, they all looked at me with surprised looks, like they hadn't encountered an American in the classroom setting before. Discourse took place mostly in English, but there were side bar conversations that made me feel rather uncomfortable and worried that I may miss a crucial detail about the class. Thankfully my professor does a great job at keeping the relevant and important lectures in English and banters with his students in Greek-lish. The more time I spend in the classroom, the more I come to enjoy it. I feel as though the knowledge I'm going to gain from my Greek professor and peers is going to give me a substanial leg up on my American classmates back at UNF. I'm excited about the potential that this class holds for me and I think that my time in the classroom may wind up being even more rewarding than my time exploring the depths of history.

"They Paved Paradise, and Put Up A Parking Lot"

The Acropolis. This is the Grand Canyon, Times Square, and Vegas Strip all rolled into one for Greece. This is the place that every postcard depicts and every man, woman and child that can point to Greece on a map dreams of going to. It is a massive structure that rises out of the Earth like a titan from the center of Athens. It is a beautiful construct that is slowly being consumed by the insatiable appetite of decay and time. It has a sad yet storied history. The priceless artifacts that once lined the interior of the palace are in museums or lost to the archives of history. The structure itself has also been picked clean; what the Turks didn't blow up back the in the 1600s, the British looted away in the 20th century. Yet this city fortress has withstood all of that. It has seen countless battles and thousands of men have had their blood strewn across the rough, tan rocks of the walls. It was once a place of great importance and dignity and now, it is nothing more than a rest stop for tourists on their way to the prime shopping of the Plaka.

The Acropolis. As viewed from the Aeropagus.

The Plaka is the central neighborhood of Greece and the Acropolis is the headliner of the entire region, it makes sense that it would attract tourists from all over, it is the national landmark of all Greece. The compairisons I made to the Grand Canyon and other landmarks wasn't just to compare cultural importance, it was also to help you visualize the sheer number of tourists that places like these draw in. This isn't the first time I've ever encountered the over saturation of tourists at a beacon of tourism for the entire nation, the Great Wall was very similar. It wasn't until we had reached the end away from the multitude of tourists that you finally got to appreciate the beauty of the structure. You never get that chance at the Acropolis. The place was wall to wall tourists on what seemed to be a relatively slow day, everybody wants to get in front of the mammoth sized pillars and cheese in front of them like they're Jack Nicholson to prove that they were there. It is always a shame to see something so trampled by incessant tourism, the rocks of the Acropolis were smoothed and trampled down not by weather but by the black socks and sandals combination of tourists. Of course, it is a double edged sword, the tourist industry fuels the people of this great city and region so they are just capitalizing on the smartest business strategy they can. In Greece's current economic state, I can hardly blame them. It is almost cruel though, the exploitation of this historic masterpiece. There is nothing that can or necessarily should be done about it, but it always saddens me to see such art and beauty subjected to the whims of the modern age. So it goes though.

The columns of the Acropolis as we were able to catch a break in the neverending sea of tourists.

After spending a couple of hours wandering around the Acropolis complex and getting lost in the memories of a faded glory and the staunch odor of unwashed tourists, we journeyed into the Plaka to experience Greek's cultural center first hand. As always, the heat was brutal and really affected our stomachs as well as our minds. The Kaplans, noticing that their herd of students was rapidly dying off from exhaustion, wisely stopped to consider some alternative options. One of those options was the greatest Greek dining experience and possibly most glorious face stuffing moment that I have ever experienced in my life. The place we went to was a favorite dining spot of the Kaplans and for good reason. Food was offered up in family dining style and based on the meal deal you chose, you could choose up to 16 of 18 dishes that were offered. I usually get worried at family style dishes that I won't get enough of my favorite foods, but this fear was unwarranted at this installation. Everything that we ordered was heavenly. Greek salad, mousaka, pork, calamari, meatballs, a whole host of dipping cheeses and sauces for our bread, greens, fried cheese, french fries, dolmad, sausages and a partridge in a pear tree. We were so unbelievably stuffed that by the time dessert rolled around, we wanted no part of it. Thanks to the Kaplan's incredible generosity, the entire adventure and decadent meal was free. Not only did they rescue us from being "Tan Mommed" by the Sun, they went ahead and paid for a bunch of snot nosed college student's meal. Can you think of a nicer family? Being completely bloated in the Greek heat was the perfect brew for a nap, but we still had some trekking to do in the Plaka.

Good eats.

The Plaka is a really interesting area to wander around in. It is probably the most modern part of Athens with high rise apartments and offices lining every city block, but history is not so easily snuffed out by the encroachments of modern technology. Byzantine church's still dot the city, sunken into the modern landscape by the rising roads and natural erosion. Athens is a city on top of a city on top of a city. The bottom layer of Athens is the ancient city that you read about and though most thought it could never be recovered, history has a way of clawing its way back into relevancy from oblivion. The metro station that is central to the Plaka was built in preparation for the 2004 Olympic Games. While hastily trying to assemble this intricate series of track and rail, they stumbled across an amazing discovery. Smack in the middle of this very contemporary metro station is an ancient ruin of the old city, almost 30 feet under the surface of the street. To see such a blend of modern and ancient intertwined together so closely was truly astounding and for the first time since my arrival in Greece, I truly got the sense of how far we have come as a people. The stone that used to be so integral to our survival has been buried beneath a jungle of concrete and steel. The Plaka metro station is a testament to how closely our past is connected to our future. You have to appreciate the little things, and this was one little thing that will stand out to me for the rest of my life.

Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Zeus's Door

OK, so Delphi is the home of the Temple of Apollo and not Zeus, but who doesn't love a good Bobby Dylan reference? I've been excited about this trip since I first heard that it was on the docket. Delphi has more religious and historical significance than Martin Luther forgetting where the church's "Complaints" box was located back in 1522. I wouldn't have been so stoked if I had known that we were going to have to wake up at 6 AM on a Saturday to climb the equivalent of Olympic StairMaster. The early start was warranted, Delphi is a two and a half hour drive from Athens and we were reminded along the way that people during ancient times actually had to walk the ungodly hot flat lands separating Delphi and Athens. All I could reference during that mental image was Animal Mother in Kubrick's "Full Metal Jacket" saying "Better you than me". That was one of the first times on this trip that I actually enjoyed being on a bus because I don't care how powerful my gods were and how sexy/omnipotent this oracle was: "These Tevas weren't made for walking"!

Athenian Treasury

Delphi is located on the second highest mountain in all of Greece and to get there you have to pass through a beautiful Greek ski town that reminded me a lot of Berchtesgaden in Germany. There is one street that runs across the face of the mountain through the center of town and the buildings are built up and down this near 90 degree face of this imposing geographical figure. A little bit further down is the entrance to Delphi starting with the Temple of Athena, Purity Spring, and then the entrance to the complex itself. Delphi was the religious center of all Greece and people would trek from all over the WORLD to come see the famous Oracle who resided in the Temple of Apollo. The oracle was to be consulted before the Greeks made any major decisions be it battle plans, buildings, diplomacy or any other decision the Greeks deemed important. Of course, historians later learned that the chamber where the Oracle was get had seismic fault lines running through it which emitted natural gas. Essentially, this means that the omnipotent oracle got stoned out of her mind 24/7 to the point where she started babbling in incoherent metaphors and the priests gave vague interpretations of those metaphors. It would be akin to you seeking stock market advice from Paul, who lives in the Samsung box at the corner of 34th and Madison. A completely ridiculous premise that you think no one would believe, yet it sparked a mass and almost continuous exodus to Delphi throughout the early 5th and 6th century B.C..

Temple of Apollo

Delphi, like everything in Greece, is gorgeous and I was once again disappointed that I was not able to see the location in its prime. Our guides told us about the preposterously long lines that would form waiting to see the Oracle, but with the views those people were getting while they waited, I can't see what they were complaining about; except maybe the heat, or the abnormally large number of steps they had to climb to see her, or the thousand mile journey they just completed to come to Ancient Greece's version of Disneyland. This was probably the most physically taxing site we had visited and coming on the heels of our journey up Hymettos, it was not a welcome one. The history and the well preserved ruins that awaited us at Delphi's heart though were well worth any physical price. The Temple of Apollo watches over the valley below where Apollo can keep a careful, majestic eye over his subjects. Along the way are the ruins of grand marketplaces where traders from all over the known world would trade exotic furs, spices and people to one another for exorbitant sums of money. The ruins of the many treasuries of various Greek city states were located along the way too, where the votives and riches of the city states were stored as offerings to the god Apollo, he was nothing if not organized. At the back of Apollo's temple which still stands rather imposingly over the ruins of this once proud city, is the stone of the oracle where allegedly the oracle would spout her musings and where more famously Richard Dreyfuss hammed it up in 2009's "My Life in Ruins". We stopped for the obligatory picture looking out from the hole in the stone before proceeding up to view the impressively well maintained Stadium where games were held in honor of Apollo. Despite the beauty around me, my attention started to wane and I proceeded down the mountain a bit before everyone else just to get the hell out of the Sun. Well played Apollo, well played indeed.

Oracle Stone

Cheesing by the Delphi sign. Rolled up sleeves on this white body means that it is hot.

After visiting Delphi we journeyed slightly down the face of the mountain to view the remains of Athena's temple, where pilgrims would seek wisdom before consulting the oracle. The point of it was that they wanted to make sure they asked the right question to avoid getting stonewalled by a James Cromwell like response in "I Robot". It was pretty but it seemed the longer we dwelled in this religious haven, the hotter it got and our journey was pretty short lived at the locale. After waiting another 30 minutes or so in the Sun for our replacement bus to find us, we traveled back into town for a delicious lunch and then the tumultuous journey back to Athens. Though beat from the Sun God's wrath and his labyrinth of stairs, many of us conjured up the energy to go out into Agia Paraskevi and treat Hannah to a very nice birthday dinner before collapsing from sheer exhaustion in our own individual dwellings; knowing all the while that the next day, another early morning awaited us and another hot journey to the ruins of the past.

The beautiful town of Arachova.