Love At First Sight

"If you don't get lost, you run the risk of never being found"

“We’ll have the roasted aubergines in garlic sauce, parakalo (please)? Oh, and the kebabs as well, with Mythos beers all around. Efharisto (thank you)”

“Sure, sure, yes, thank you very much. I be right back. Namaste.”

       We were proud of ourselves for ordering so expertly, for our first time, in our first tavern, after our first walk through the National Gardens, on our first night. The waiter who so knowledgeably spoke one word of Hindi, as well as the very gorgeous policemen added a nice touch to the evening setting. Attempting to sit nonchalantly, very Greek style, under the dark green sun-umbrellas with a pleasant mist being sprayed into our faces, we started planning possible trips to Istanbul, Rome, Venice, Vienna, Prague, and the islands of Santorini and Mykonos. Basically, I need to go everywhere. Thirty minutes later, we were presented with one remotely edible looking dish, most definitely the kebabs. And the other one, the one I was most excited about – the eggplant? What eggplant? The waiter informs us, quite cheerfully, that we will surely enjoy the one he brought us as a replacement….Greek meatloaf and white rice.

       Wonderful. That was day two that I haven’t eaten any vegetables. Well, not more than only one serving. Not too brilliant of a start, food-wise. Where was this famed Mediterranean diet? The tzatziki did brighten things up considerably though. As did the 10% discount he used to lure us to his taverna.

Terrace Taverna, before the 10pm dinner rush

       Three of my worlds mixed together all at once. It rarely happens, but I am literally at a loss for words to describe the past few days. An Indian heritage with some American experience, and now this Greek immersion, have seamlessly (more or less) blended together for what looks like will be an unforgettable time.

       The adventure began at the boarding gate in Philadelphia. For the first time in my life, they called my name on the intercom at the terminal. In retrospect, it was a little amusing, especially how they pronounced. At that moment, however, fear and irritation reigned, while I was politely asked to prove my legal alien-student status in the United States. That made me feels special, really, because those were the exact words the attendant used. I was anxious to leave even more.

       One 7 hour flight ride, a 2 hour layover in London, and another 3 hour flight and we finally landed in Athens, with many other students who joined us along the way, who are studying with us here.

       First impressions: It is almost exactly like India – the small winding streets which have no sense of uniformity, the people milling around yet not quite rushing to get anywhere, the complete disregard for any traffic laws (Greeks consider them mere suggestions) by all motorists, and the stunning architecture with balconies on every floor for every building. The tall apartment buildings with lines of bright coloured clothes hanging to dry and the two-wheelers that whizzed past at lightning speed were what sealed the deal. I fell in love instantly. 

       

       My apartment is very traditional, with a balcony that runs all around and connects every room. The kitchen and the bathroom, small though they are, are fully furnished with everything four average college girls could ask for, including strongly-scented cinnamon and ginger spice, and mini towel hangers. My roommates have already agreed to regular cooking sessions, courtesy of the lovely farmer’s market that is a huge spectacle to witness every Friday morning.

       Unpacking was slightly terrifying, I still have no idea how I managed to bring so many things. Last night, for a decent half hour I believed I lost my passport. I overturned everything in my half-unpacked room, only to have my roommate find it in the folder it was supposed to be in. That was the turning point; the wave of responsibility finally hit me. I am completely accountable for every action here on out – in a foreign country all by myself. Where the women are tall, exotic and so full of life and the streets are littered with stray animals who have as much right to the sidewalk as you do. This is what we are supposed to have practiced for our entire lives? It’s overwhelmingly confusing. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

       All the apartments for the students are located in the Pangrati area of central Athens, and the Academic Center is right behind mine. For this week of orientation, we are all required to take survival Greek lessons, after which I am so incredibly tempted to take the Modern Greek class this semester. It is relatively easy to learn, especially after having learned French, fun to read, and absolutely exhilarating to speak with the locals. Twice now I was mistaken for a local; a mistake I did not feel the need to correct. My vocabulary has grown immensely, and my pronunciation is…all right? You can never learn too many languages.

       There is no space to fit the class into my schedule, but to work around it, I am planning to look after local Greek high-school children for families who want their children to improve their English and cultural skills. It is a wonderful opportunity to learn authentic Greek (without the burden of homework), meet new people, and get invited to their summer homes in the Islands for a lazy Sunday on the beach. Get paid to be treated as part family? Yes, please. Greek people love to drink, love to laugh, and love to love. They start their days late, and end their nights even later. It is a lifestyle not fit for all, but a lifestyle I can easily see myself growing into.

In front of Kalimarmaro Stadium, built in the 6th century, adjacent to our Academic Center

              It really has been a culture shock all over again. Everywhere I look there is something new and interesting to see. Last night, after the famous passport disappearance, we went out for drinks at midnight. We were given special treatment at an Absinthe bar by Harris, the owner, who promised us that we would keep coming back for more. A few bottles later, we profusely thanked him and headed back home, only to decide to keep the party going. The night (or morning) ended at a Pirate bar where we tasted sweet red wine with either honey or maple syrup (we think). The result was an aggravating and incomprehensible morning trying to get ready for 9.30am survival Greek.

       Alcohol aside, and maybe the meatloaf aside too, Greece so far has been a whirlwind. The sights, smells, and tastes have definitely made their mark. If I never read the news, I wouldn’t believe that there were any protests or any sort of political unrest. It is a country devoted to living life to the fullest – no wonder it was the birthplace of philosophy. They clearly have it all figured out. Now I just have to become one of them. Today at the group taverna dinner, I learned even more about the history of their school system, the social class barriers, and felt the rush of pride from the Greeks who fondly recounted their own experiences in demonstrations and protests. Plus I sampled a strange but delightful cinnamon and chocolate swirl bread fudge.

       There are too many things to do, too many people to meet, and everything to fall in love with. The sweet and delicious fruits, the ‘noble beggars’ who roam the streets playing music and singing, the warmth of the sun that somehow manages to reach my skin even under the umbrella, and the curious stares we receive in response to our still-tourist-like attitude. So far so good. My to-do list has no end, I cannot foresee any future where I will sleep more than 5 hours a night, and my roommate just broke her door handle. C’est la vie (note to self: must learn how to say that in Greek tomorrow). This weekend is our trip to the Island of Andros, with private beaches, an olive museum, and monasteries atop a hill. Let the shenanigans continue.

The great tenors wander the streets singing ancient Greek love songs