Nothing Good Happens After Midnight

So, for the most part, whenever I used to go out at night my dad would ask what time I would be home, and he always reminded me that nothing good happens after midnight. The only thing you could possible be doing after midnight would undoubtedly get you into some kind of trouble. Nothing was open, nobody with any sense was out, and it wasn't safe to just be hanging out in parking lots. Apparently, the Greeks do not feel the same way. I haven't spent a whole lot of time out late here because I usually have to be up early the next day, but there were a few nights were I didn't get in until late (including last night) and the nightlife always seems a little shocking to me. For starters, everything is open until about one in the morning. Restaurants, kiosks, coffee shops, etc. It seems they don't ever close. A lot of this may have to do with the fact that the Greeks usually eat dinner so late, so all of their social interactions are pushed back a couple of hours, but what is really surprising to me are the age groups that I see out running around all hours of the night. Until about ten or eleven, you will see elementary aged kids running around (thankfully, with a parent, guardian, or older sibling) in the Plataea, which is apparently the central hangout spot considering it's always crowded with people. Then, last night at two in the morning when we drove by, I decided to take a look and see what was going on. Some of the restaurants had finally started to close down, but there were still a lot of teenagers out running around. I don't mean college aged teenagers, I mean sophomore in high school teenagers. And what's worse is they're smoking, drinking, being regular old hooligans, and nobody seems to mind. I suppose as long as they're not hurting anyone but themselves, it's alright. Anyway, the initial shock factor was great, but as I watched them interact with each other, it made me miss my friends back home because teenagers and friends everywhere basically act the same kind of crazy around each other. Except for the cheek kissing. I do not kiss my friends on the cheek.

The Amazing Spider-Man: Greek Style

Thursday was the opening night here in Greece for The Amazing Spider-Man movie. So, despite the fact that about half of us had to be up early the next day, a group of us got together and decided to go see the 9 PM showing (which was the earliest, Mom. I'm trying to make good decisions here, I promise!). We decided to go to dinner first at Silly Wizards, which is an Irish pub...at which we had a British waiter...in Greece. Yeah, I don't know, either. Anyway! The food there is delicious, even if it is a little pricey. I had the most delicious nachos I've ever tasted in my life. I do believe it's become one of our new favorite hangouts.

Here's a semi-awkward photo of some of us just hanging out in the pub. Yeah, it's a nice place. And the music was fantastic! It was a lot of Flogging Molly and Celtic Woman sounding tunes. Oddly enough, I very rarely hear Greek music being played in restaurants or grocery stores. It's usually a lot of popular American music, which is odd considering a good number of people don't even speak English. I'm not complaining, though. It's a nice little taste of home.

Anyway, after leaving Silly Wizards way later than we should have, we tried waiting for a bus. We then decided that the bus was taking too long, so we started to run. Then, a bus pulled up, so we turned around and ran BACK to the bus stop and hopped on a B5. We didn't know where it was taking us, but it was going in the general right direction for the theater, so we just went with it. We ended up at the theater, buying tickets, and walking in just as the movie was starting. The theater was outdoors. The atmosphere was really neat, but it was a little hard to see the movie for the first few minutes because the sun wasn't quite down. The movie was great. They had a nice little concession stand in the back with over priced food and drinks. Greek popcorn is much saltier and doesn't have as much butter as American popcorn, and it was delicious.

Besides the fact that the movie had Greek subtitles, the major difference between a movie going experience here and one in America is that right in the middle of the movie, with now warning at all, there was an intermission. It was right during an emotional, tender scene and all of the sudden an advertisement for the snack bar popped up and the lights came on. So, I was up taking advantage of the intermission, when all of the sudden the lights went back down and the movie started playing again. Yeah, no warning at all. So, that was kind of different, but it was a great experience and an awesome movie!

Let's Talk About Dead People

This beautiful work of sculpted art is not part of a museum or an archaeological dig, but can be found in Proto Nekrotafio, the First Cemetery of Athens. I had to do a site report on this cemetery, and I'm so glad I did because I may not have taken the time to visit it otherwise. I live in front of a cemetery, and I've been to a few others, and I always figured that if you've seen one then you've seen them all. I was wrong.

The cemetery opened in the 19th century and was the hot spot to be buried for the rich and famous Greek population. It didn't so much discriminate against the lower classes, but the mausoleums were not cheap, and a mausoleum was the only way to ensure your spot in that cemetery forever. After three years of being buried, the bones of the deceased are dug up and washed in wine by their family. Has that last statement fully hit you yet? Could you imagine digging up the bones of a dead family member and washing them? Yeah, I didn't think so. Anyway, if their bones were not in a mausoleum, they are moved to an ossuary.

So, this is a picture of something I probably wasn't supposed to see. A very poorly taken care of excuse for an ossuary. You can see some of the bone boxes are open and the bones are clearly visible and exposed to the elements. You can also see for yourself how high the boxes are stacked, and towards the back you can even make our pictures on the boxes to make out who the bones belong to. I have some good shots of the bones, too, but I wasn't sure if that would be a bit too much for you guys, but if you want to see them just let me know and I'll upload them. Anyway, if you didn't fork over the money for a mausoleum, this is where your bones end up.

A lot of the mausoleums are family tombs. The Greeks basically do everything as a family, and I guess death is no exception. It's beautiful, really, how important family is in this culture. You can also tell what the family held dear by what is sculpted on the mausoleum. Most of it is religious, such as crosses or Bibles. There are also pictures of the loved ones before they died, usually in their old age, and other personal belongings may also be left there. The family also pays for someone to come around and keep a candle lit. There were a few graves that haven't been taken care of in a while, which usually means the family has moved away and stopped taking care of the grave.

Here's and example of a family tomb.

And here's an example of a mausoleum that is no longer being taken care of.

The whole experience was morbidly beautiful, and totally different than anything I ever experienced. In America, someone dies, we hold a funeral for them, put them in their neat spot in the ground, surrounded by uniform graces of equal size and give them a headstone that looks just like all the rest of them. We say our goodbyes, and try to forget about the pain felt due to the loss. We try to make order and control something that is usually complete chaos. In Greece, they embrace it. The allow a sense of individuality in death with their beautiful sculpture and art, and it isn't uncommon to see Greek families eating a picnic lunch in the cemetery with the deceased loved ones. Even the cleaning of the bones is beautiful. It seems harsh, but emotionally, the Greeks are much better off in their acceptance of death.



Greek Traffic

I, being a woman, am a notoriously horrible driver. However, being a woman, I think that I am the greatest driver on the road and that all other cars must give into my authority. At first this seems to be the mentality of all Greek drivers. Instead of the defensive driving we are taught in America with right of ways and common courtesy rules, the Greeks drive very offensively, with lots of shouting and hand gestures. It isn't road rage type yelling, and they aren't obscene hand gestures, but at first they seem to be rude because we're so used to them being used rudely in America. However, the more you watch, the more you understand that the chaos is organized. The screaming isn't a sign of road rage, but rather a way to communicate to other drivers, kind of like using a blinker. They aren't shouting profanity, they are simply communicating. They are also much more generous than they seem. For instance, we were once on a bus that wanted to park along the side of the road, so one of the drivers who was getting out of her car got back in to move up for us. Did she have to do that? No. But she did it anyway. I don't think I would ever see that happen in America. In America, we're always looking out for ourselves, and we're always in too much of a hurry to think of how our actions can affect or help others. Not only are the Greeks generous drivers, but they are skilled drivers. All of our bus drivers manage to maneuver the huge vehicle through narrow, winding roads with cars parked everywhere and people walking about on them (walking on or across the road at any time is no big deal here, as long as you make sure you don't get squished when crossing a two lane street). They have all done an awesome job so far. Another thing is that basically all of the cars in Greece are stick shift, which I have never been particularly good at. All in all, I've got a few major things working against my driving around in Greece: my selfish American tendencies, my inability to learn what I'm not interested in, and my fear of being run over. It's amazing I haven't been hit by a car yet. Thank God for the metro and buses.

I Fit Right In

So, for the most part, Greeks can pick Americans out of the crowd like a sore thumb. It's not because we look any different (not all Greeks are tall, dark, and handsome), but we usually have an extremely confused or oblivious look on our faces, not to mention we usually don't speak the language unless it's a necessity. However, today, while I was buying groceries, I managed to convince the cashier that I belonged here. I felt fairly confident about the simple phrases that I had learned in our survival Greek class, so I decided to hide the fact that my knees were shaking and initiate a conversation. So, I said hello, asked her how she was, paid for my groceries, and said thank you all in Greek. She said a few things I didn't exactly understand, but I could guess what she was saying based on her movements and the situation. I had her fooled, and it made me very happy, very happy indeed. Unfortunately, a few moments after that a random lady asked me a question and I couldn't answer her because I had no idea what she said, but I had one success today, and it made me proud of myself and inspired me to continue studying the language.

Creeper

Story time! So, I was in the Plaka today with Jimmy. We were sitting on the steps in front of the metro, I was innocently enjoying my chicken pita, when a man sits down next to us and starts talking. At first, I thought he was just being friendly. I was wrong. He started talking about how hard the economic times were, which hinted at him wanting money. I tried to ignore it. Then, he introduces himself. I shake his hand, and he won't let go of it, and he won't stop staring at me. He makes a creepy comment about how I have beautiful eyes, and then I laugh awkwardly and continue stuffing my face with the pita. He asked if Jimmy and I were together, and I told him about how we were students from the same school. I should have just told him he was my boyfriend, it probably would have saved me from the next few awkward moments, but I really didn't think about doing that until it was too late. He started asking questions about where we were studying, when was the next time I would be back in Plaka, if I had a phone number. It was around this time that I looked at Jimmy and let him know that WE NEEDED TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. We made an excuse to leave, but me being the awesome person that I am (just kidding...but seriously) bought this pathetic excuse for a man a chicken pita before we left. It left me kind of shaken. Why do I attract weirdos? The world may never know.

What Grinds My Gears...

Beggars. Beggars grind my gears! I know that sounds awful, and I do feel slightly awful about it, but these last few weeks in Greece has made me numb to the awful effects of the economy. When I first started seeing them (which didn't take long, they're everywhere) it broke my heart. A lot of them are young children who play instruments. Some of them even have puppies. PUPPIES! How fair is that? Not at all, not at all fair. However, the money you give to them isn't enough. Sometimes they will just distract you with their cuteness and one of their cute little friends will run by and pick your pockets. Luckily, no one in our group has been pick pocketed so far, but it is a legit threat. They're on the metro, too. They'll walk up and down the car, sticking their hand in your face and asking for money. You just have to repeat no over and over again. There was once I was actually going to give a beggar money and they asked for more! What? Yeah, the beggar decided to be a chooser. The worst part is I gave them more. The Greeks seem to be completely desensitized to this. They don't give them money, but they also don't seem annoyed by it. At this point, I kind of want to snap at one of them and tell them to get a real job. I know, I'm heartless, but there's only so much one can take before they snap, and I'm hitting that point.

Another form of begging I've seen besides the obvious ones on the side of the street are the shop and restaurant owners. Oh my sweet Lord, every time you pass one someone is yelling at you to come inside. After about a block or two of this I want to throw something at one of them. I don't, but the urge never really leaves. Have you no self respect? I can't believe they get any business at all because their yelling has never made me thing, "Oh, you know what? I think I really want to go stop in front of that store with the screaming woman in front of it." Shocking, I know. I'll be very happy when I'm back in America and able to walk in front of stores or restaurants without being harassed. It will be a beautiful day, indeed.