I didn’t really know what to expect from Greece. I really don’t know all that much Greek history, culture or the language. I really only know like 3 words, ne-yes ti-what and poo-where. This would not get me anywhere. I also did not realize that I look like I could be from Greece. A red flag should have went up in Atlanta, when an old Greek woman was screaming at me,
“poo pas!?!?!? Poo pas!?!?!”
Some more greek I have no idea what she was hollerin’ about… so I looked at her and said
“milate anglika?” “do you speak English?”
She busted out laughing, absolutely hysterically, for like 2 minutes without taking a breath. Then continues to try to have a conversation with me… I just nod my head,
“ne, ne, ne… “
she keeps yelling “Poo!” at me, which I found funny…
“Poo?? Athina??”
“ne, Athina then Tel Aviv.”
She frowns, “Ohhh… Israel?”
“Ne.”
The conversation stops.
Once on the plane, I am surrounded by a Greek family, the dad sitting next to me. They even had their dog, Hercules, who pooped all over himself in flight. Appropriate, I thought. This man, I never caught his name, reminded me so much of Jose Cannon. The Greek version of Joe! Haha! His mannerisms’ and conversation entertained me for a while, until he fell asleep and this obnoxious snore roared out of him like a monster was trying to escape. He was a large man, and took up quite a bit of room, needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. Maybe 20 minutes…
Once in Athina, I told my new Greek family goodbye, as they had to go give Hercules a bath right away. They offered me a ride to the Parthenon, but I preferred taking the Metro. I exchanged 40 dollars for 26 euro, checked my bag at the counter (5 euro) and purchased a day pass for the subway (8 euro). The Athens metro was very easy to figure out, the only problem I would run into is people trying to small talk with me. Unapproachable apparently is not my best look.
I got off at Monastiraki which was the 14th stop after the airport. Once above ground, I felt like I was in a Greek NYC. The beautiful sounds of violins and flutes filled the air, combating with the loudness of the people and vehicles. There is no such thing as traffic laws in Athens. Wow. Mopeds, vespas, cars, busses, and people all fought to get poo (where J) they were going. I adapted quickly, and almost got ran over by a bus. One thing I could not help but notice was the ridiculously good looking police force. They would stand in groups, texting, on the corner of streets. People text as much here as they do in Amerrrica. I got lunch at a quaint café on the street. My server, very handsome, and very polite, brings me extra espresso (I must have seemed out of it) and a delicious vegetarian Greek sandwich. I ate and did some work on my computer until it died. I then walked around for a couple hours, through some historical sites, the market, and the flea market. But my favorite part of the afternoon was simply lying on this wooden box thing, looking at Acropolis from a distance. This is where I would meet my new Greek teenage friends; Johny Papas, Iwanna Tsoub and George Tsoub. Johny came up to me and told me what I was lying on was filthy, I told him I didn’t care. I think they took a liking to me then. They sat down next to me and started to probe. Johny translated most of the conversation, Iwanna tried to speak English, and she taught me some Greek.
“Where are you from? England?”
“No, America.”
“Wow, America?? Where exactly in America??”
“Ohio.”
“Oh, in the south eh?”
“haha, no, in the north actually.”
“What’s Alabama like? I have heard good things.”
“I actually used to live in Alabama! It is nice, but I think the north is nicer, besides the weather.”
This intrigued them; we talked about weather, climate and education from here.
“It is so nice to speak English”, Johny sounded very relieved, “I hate the Greek language. I want to study economics when I get out of high school, but I think I would like to study in England.”
“I study economics! How do you feel about what’s going on in Greece right now?”
Iwanna looks at me and says,” I don’t understand.” Johny translates for her, and she responds,
“Oh! I want to be a kindergarten teacher!” lowers he hand to demonstrate a small person. “Little ones! And I LOVE Obama!”
Johny chimes in “Ya! We all love Obama! Has he changed anything where you live?”
“Yes, he has changed everything. What makes you guys love Obama?”
George doesn’t know any English, but he is nodding his head in approval as Johny tells him what is going on.
“Vision.”
“Yes, he has a vision.” Johny agrees.
At this point we get interrupted by a drunken thief asking if we wanted to buy a brand new “HP.”
“A laptop?”
“Yessssss, an HP! Hey, where are you from? Italy? Britain? Not here, you don’t speak Greek! But you do look Greek!”
Iwanna gives me a look. Johny puts his hand up and whispers, “he’s drunk.”
“America, ever heard of it?”
“HA! America!? What part!? F*ck America!!!!!!!!!”
We try to continue our conversation about politics and economics, but he just continues to scream how much he hates America, and hates Obama, and f*cks every American because they want it. Thankfully, the weather is as temperamental as the Greek citizens and it starts raining out of nowhere. The teens and I exchanged information and I headed for the metro.
I made sure the drunkard wasn’t following me by making some sharp turns, and again almost getting hit by a bus. The metro ride back was not fun. I started to feel overwhelmingly exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and the jet lag of 16 hours of flying. I put my foot on my seat to use my knee to keep my head from falling. This was apparently a horrible idea. I closed my eyes, I knew I had about 25 more minutes on the metro before my stop. This woman who was reading the paper sees my shoe on the seat and looses it!
“Insert loud angry Greek words here.”
Disillusioned, I just stare at her, not knowing how to respond. Searching for the words in any language, my mouth is not working. This seems like I am disrespecting her, she is still screaming and the lady to her right joins in. I realized what they are mad about and put my foot back on the ground, this silenced them immediately. I looked up and said “No hablo Greek.” Then close my eyes and put my head against the window. They begin to talk very rapidly. I couldn’t catch one word, but I sure did piss them off.
My plans were to catch the metro to another part of town, but at this point I felt battered and very tired. I needed sleep, my body was shutting down. I got off at the airport stop and picked up my bags and printed my boarding pass. I planned on napping, then grabbing dinner and shopping a little bit since my flight was not until 2:15 AM, and I told Roxanne I would buy her a Greek scarf. I napped on a bench using my bags as a pillow, and my scarves as a blanket. I woke up feeling much better, and ready to try Athina out again. But this was not in my cards. You see, once you get your passport stamped to leave the country, they don’t let you back in unless you fly back in. Yes, another argument occurred after my nap when I went in search for dinner and WiFi.
“So you are telling me I am stuck in this terminal until my plane leaves?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome, is there any food or internet?”
“No. you shouldn’t have gone through the passport check point.”
“My bad.”
At this point I had been through Greece’s security check twice; the boys there were feeling comfortable with me and laughing it up. One asked if he could go to Tel Aviv with me because he hates being stuck in Greece. I don’t blame him, no matter where you are, you hear the sounds of the violin… which after awhile, gives the atmosphere a very gloomy feel to it.
I roamed the terminal, feeling alone and bored. One nice thing about Athina is bottled water is only ,50 eruo, and there is a plethora of recycling bins, I’m on my 3rd bottle of water. I needed to find an outlet to charge my computer, but they sure are scarce. I FINALLY found one, and almost passed out with glee. I figured out my adapter, and here I am, sitting at an empty gate, snacking on peanuts and reminiscing. Still no WiFi.
Have love, will travel.
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