Not Your-thos, My-thos.

When I find myself in a “foreign” place (in the purest sense of the word), I take heed to observe every little detail about the people, the situations, and general going’s-on of everyday life. Now that I’m essentially on the career path to do that for a living anyhow – thanks to Bronsinlaw Malinowski and his theories on “modern” cultural anthropology – I’m attempting to develop my own ethnographic technique and possibly add my own perspective to the wide world of academia. (Well, only after another bazillion years of school and an official piece of paper that says “Dr.” on it, of course.) One thing I’ve come accustomed to doing is not only observing the characteristics of my own surrounding, but questioning if the truly “out of the ordinary” is just strange to me or to the society as a whole. Unfortunately I’m often too embarrassed to ask a local that very question for fear of being rude or obviously marking myself as an outsider, so I never really come to any substantial conclusion. However, I make a note to myself to never forget these bizarre people, places, and things; because no matter what, it’s these very moments that define my time and experience in these “foreign” places.

Since the last time I posted, I’ve accumulated a whole new list of observations and circumstances. Let first start off by saying that I’m very disappointed in my last post. I’ve written better pieces of work while I was delirious with the flu. When I was 8. I was trying to crunch out something and remember everything that I could; and it turned out pretty pathetically. So, learning from my mistakes, I made sure to write down everything I wanted to remember and share with all you lovelies. I hope it does it justice in the face of the last entry!

Places I’ve Been (June 5^th – June 11^th, 2007)

The Kerameikos Cemetery; Athens
Acropolis and Agora (2^nd time); Athens
Ancient Corinth and Acrocorinth
Loutraki
Epidaurous
Napoli
Tiryns
Mycenae
Bassae
Olympia
Pireaus

· There are massive amounts of dogs. Everywhere. Apparently there have always been many strays wandering Athens, along with many other parts of Greece, but I find it slightly hilarious that it’s just part of the norm. Furthermore, most of them have collars and all are pretty mild and generally friendly pooches. I’ve heard two theories on the matter: 1) The government of Athens has such an overwhelming population of stray dogs that they have special personal to pick up the strays, give them shots, spay/neuter them, and send them back on the streets with a collar (blue: boy; red: girl) and the people leave their scraps and things out for them. 2) Many people in the cities with pets leave for up to months at a time; and instead of taking the pets or arranging for a doggie care-giver, they simply let them wander the streets. And, hey, if they come back and the pup is still there, then great! Whatever the reason, it’s actually great to have so many “pets” around. Oddly enough, it feels remarkably like home… what with our million Chihuahuas and rescued dogs of our own!

· Just as above, the same goes for the cats. However, I think that the cat situation is far worse. (I know this because they have freakin’ post cards making fun of it.) The cats aren’t nearly as friendly, and they only come out at night – but in crazy numbers. Kind of like cockroaches. The stupid cats have nasty fights and apparently rape each other to the point of brutality, and we hear it all night long. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the strangled cries of a cat, but it’s about as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard with your Auntie Pearl singing Blondie’s “I Touch Myself” on karaoke in the background. My roommate came up with the resolution to throw ice at the ones below our window, to which we’ve managed to fend them off for bits at a time.

· Another thing that happens outside of our window but to a much more welcome effect is our “Accordion Man,” who is nothing more than that. He wanders the streets of Pangrati and plays his accordion to the most nostalgic tunes, never asking for money or anything, and he comes around maybe once a week. I’ve decided that he’s actually a long lost lover of a woman that he managed to track back to our neighborhood. He plays his accordion, selecting his former girlfriend’s favorite melodies, in hopes that she’ll run to her balcony and see him just as they saw each other years ago. Either that or he was arrested recently for petty larceny and he’s getting away with doing this as a form of community service.

· Okay, for all of you who were wondering why Europeans get a bad rep for their hygiene (or lack thereof), it’s not their fault. Products over here are crazy expensive! We’re talking [converted rates] roughly $7 for a bottle of shampoo, $4-5 for toothpaste, $5 for a dinky stick of deodorant – which by the way, I was informed by a good humored native Brit that European deodorant is made to specifically allow for the natural essence of one’s biological aroma. I swear, a 6-pack of Mythos is cheaper than a bottle of conditioner; and so while my hair is dry and nappy, my fridge is stocked and I’m too tipsy to care!

· “Sheep: It’s What’s for Dinner!” There are no cow products. Anywhere. The other night my roommates and I decided we wanted to make “American” spaghetti with the shredded beef, but after searching several different markets we couldn’t find a thing even remotely close to it. At our last stop, I thought we were lucky and found a package of meat with what looked like a rough sketch of a cow. After making a rather loud praising to Jesus in the middle of the market, my roommate flashed me a bewildered look. “Uh, Celia,” she said, “That’s a sheep.” I promptly returned the shredded sheep to the freezer; we somehow did manage to find these wonderful spiced pork meatballs, and they actually worked better than we expected. And I was able to eat my spaghetti without the guilt of dining on Mary’s little lamb.

· The program I’m with requires several excursions to big archaeological sites throughout the mainland of Greece, and we’ve been lucky to have a nice big bus to transport all of us. We make stops every couple of hours, and we’ve been lucky to not have been charged to use the restroom at the fill-up stations (which, by the way, are the “WC’s” = water closets). However, I’d gladly pay a few .50 pieces to have the toilet seats on the toilets. That’s right ladies, if you plan to road trip through Europe, practice your squatting exercises now! I’m not quite sure if the goal is to promote hygiene by not allowing one to grace the crapper with one’s dairie aire or what, but let me mention one thing: being tall in these situations isn’t a good time. By the end of the last trip I felt pretty confident in my squatting technique, making it look pretty frickin’ magical.

· I really believe that getting older, particularly for women, is something that the Greek folk look forward to. It seems that the older you get, the more you get away with; the ladies cut in front of you for everything! The grocery store, the line for the bathroom, the bakery, the tavernas, etc. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been suckered punched in the boobs by these horrible little tarts (that’s right where their broad shoulders hit), just so that they can get the “5 second fresher” bread. Irony is, though, that they can manage to quite literally plow you over, but then they get in front of you and teeter-totter up the street. There’s no way to get around them! Unless, of course, you’re ballsy enough to run around the old bat by dodging the horribly parked cars and oncoming traffic on the road. Granted, I’ll take a moped to the face before I ever have to suffer another bruise to my already pathetic upper chest.

· If you ever find yourself in Nauplio, you must (and I mean MUST!) visit the two most unique things about it: The Palamidi Fortress and the Antica Gelateria di Roma. The fortress is a Venetian one from the early 18^th century, and it’s been also known as “The Fortress of 1,000 Stairs” (though it’s been argued that there’s only 999). Either way, a few of us make the trek the 90 vertical degree mountain of steps. We arrived in record time, covered in sweat and panting like dogs, but it was amazing. We spent a good 2 hours up there, venturing into these small tunnels, underground rooms, and mazes of huge walls with tiny windows. The view was spectacular, but my fear of heights kicked in wildly at the very beginning; I used the adrenaline rush to lean out on the farthest and highest nooks of fort and take some of my favorite pictures of the trip. Unfortunately it’ll be hard for you to gauge the actual height/distance of the fortress from my pictures, but believe me, it’s crazy! After we managed to slide down the 1,000 (999) stairs, we treated ourselves to the most incredible gelato I’ve ever had from Antica Gelateria di Roma. The portions were out of control, but I got four different flavours in one bowl (hazelnut, mocha, caramel, and a scoop of mango sorbet because it’s my favorite). I think that my stomach was also trying to enjoy it for as long as possible, seeing that it sat there like a brick the rest of the evening. But the stomach ache was worth it, and you bet your shredded sheep I’d do it again.

· At the site of Corinth, I was lucky enough to have met Guy Sanders, director of the American School of Archaeology and consequently the husband to our program’s director. He’s a wonderfully amusing and brilliant man, and he has that dry English wit that makes me hotter than July. Dr. Sanders was all too gracious to show us around the new excavations at Corinth, and my favorite part was the end when he talked about a gravesite and the new medical archaeology research they’re doing; it was a total dork’s paradise, and all I needed was a fruity frozen concoction with a goofy umbrella to make it just that. My professor’s back home would be so jealous.

· Note to self = Chinese food in Greece is not the same as Chinese food in America. Moving on.

· Our group stayed over night in Olympia on our last leg of our last excursion, and it’s actually one of my least favorite places. The people badger you to no end, the touristy areas were insane, and the food was outrageously expensive. It did have a great place for crème brulee cheese cake, and I did try my first glass of ouzo (which my friends got some great pictures of the “before and after” reactions).

· I’m going to have a brood of mullet babies and marry a Greek blonde mullet boy, as it seems. I’ll save that story for later.

· So, I had my first encounter with answering the call of the wild by relieving myself in the wild; and it made me appreciate the toilets without seats that much more. We made a wrong turn on the way home (about a good hour’s out of the way), and it was another 1-2 hours before we would stumble upon the next town. Having followed the advice in my traveler’s guide by staying hydrated and drinking water until it hurt, I quickly came to the conclusion that there’s no way I could contain myself another minute. After scrounging up a handful of tissue, I darted out of the bus with a few other people and ran down the path until I could find some kind of clearing out of the way. One of the girls and I found an abandoned shack and a flat pile of bedrock with tall grass around it, and decided it’s now or never. Using a prickly shrub as our divider, we popped a squat, dropped the shorts, gave ourselves a quick pep talk, and let nature take its course. I’m glad that my ballet skills came in handy, because I was full grande plie over the bedrock. All actually went well until a gust of wind blew through, and a thick piece of grass got rather flirtatious with my bare dairie aire (shall we say it got… cheeky?). After making this weird scream/gasp/giggle noise, my friend had to ask if I was enjoying myself over there; unfortunately I wasn’t. But I returned to the bus a real woman and decided I would take delicate sips of water the rest of the way home.

· The staring thing is no big deal anymore; in fact, I kind of get offended when people don’t stare, and I catch myself gazing off from time to time. It’s better than a movie! I now understand the allure of sitting at a taverna sipping a frappe and watching life; maybe it’ll be how I conduct my research. Despite the charm and pleasantness of it, though, I think I’d rather be making life interesting that watch it go by. ;)

I’ll do my best to make this post the last of the long ones. This blog also doubles as my “journal” for the trip (to make sure I’ll always have a digital copy floating around), so I’m trying to keep it as detailed as possible. Not to mention, I’m having a difficult time trying to keep in touch with everyone about everything! I also want to give a major shout out to my dear friend, Kathleen, who’s seasoned pro with Greek and has given me a lot of great help and support. I’m forever in your debt, Kathleen! And to the rest of you who send your love, I’m eternally grateful. I don’t want to say that I’m ready to come home yet, but I feel like I’ve been a walking mishap since I got here. I keep telling my friends that my life is like a living Jane Austin novel: Nothing profound and having no real point, but entertaining nonetheless. I think I’m providing a lot of laughs to the Athenians…. In any regard, I’m coming to terms with a lot of the things I put off dealing with at home because of time and distractions, and hopefully this trip will ultimately benefit more than just me.

That being said, I have another test in the morning and a long day-trip to Sunio and Marathon, not to mention my roommate’s cooking sweet-and-sour chicken for dinner. Perfect with Mythos.

Peace in central Greece,

C