My Five Favorite Parts of my Study Abroad

5. Seeing all the fantastic architecture and statues. I have never seen such astounding works of art.

 4. Going to the beaches. Bluer water I have never encountered.

3. Visiting Delphi. The mountainous terrain was simply breathtaking.

2. Talking to Maria: the bone specialist. Future job perhaps?

1. Living in Nafplio. It would be a dream come true to live there again.

The Longest Day of my Life

My journey from Athens to good ol' Grants Pass did not amount to a simple, quick jaunt over the pond . . . it was endless. My "day" (actually a 36 hours of continuous travel) started at 3:10 AM in my luscious warm bed in Athens in order to catch the cab that Maura, Tyler, and I. I awoke with a start, having only managed to obtain two hours of sleep due to packing the night before. Groggily dragging myself out the door, lugging my bulging suitcase behind me, I cast a bittersweet last look at the apartment that had been home for the summer of a lifetime. Closing the door, and going down the sketchy elevator one last time squeezed my heart with bands of sadness. Climbing into the taxi with our cheery cabbie (there is something wrong with people that happy at such ungodly hours), we set of for the airport.

I should have realized that the trip would not proceed as seamlessly as I would have preferred when, as I checked in with front desk, he told me I was checked through to San Francisco. An half an hour of debate, three phone calls, and barrage of questions later, I was finally booked through to Medford. After checking through security, I found my gate, waited for about an hour with Maura, a then boarded the flight to Zurich. Two hours later, I landed, proceeded to the next flight, and arrived in Philadelphia. At least this part of the trip was tolerable, though all feeling in my neck and gluteus maximus was nil at that point.

In Philadelphia, I cleared the passport check, customs, and security without incident, waited my allotted layover, and boarded my plane to San Francisco. Once again, no incident . . . that is, until I landed. I already knew I was to have a four hour layover for my 11 PM departure to Medford--that came as no surprise. To pass the time, I simply watched a few movies (including Cheaper by the Dozen 2--I was getting pretty desperate). In between movie selections, I checked the departure board for gate changes. My gate was "changed," though after a few inquiries, I found that this was a mistake. After a do-si-do with the gates, I settled back down in my original seat with an overpriced BLT (named the "Haight") purchased at a nearby deli at approximately 9 PM west coast time.

It was then that I checked Facebook, and saw this status. I wished that I could say the same.

At 10:30, an announcement came over the loudspeaker.  Our inbound aircraft was stuck in Sacramento due to ill weather conditions. Our departure was delayed to 11:40. Ten minutes, later, the voice rang out the departure would now be at 12:10 AM and the gate had been changed: to one in another terminal. I along with thirty other passengers, gathered our things and marched down to the transfer shuttle. Ten minutes later we arrived at the new gate with the new departure time of 12: 40 AM. This departure time ended up being the correct one and we took off for Oregon in a timely fashion, landing at 2:20 AM. I landed and was greeted by the loving embraces of my loving parents. After collecting my luggage, we started the 45 minute drive home. I finally collapsed into my very own bed at 3:30 AM--36 hours from the start of my journey. 

Marathon, Eleusis,Brauron,and Sounion

This post is a bit out of order--it should be before the Delphi post, but I was too excited about Delphi so I skipped over it. I will give you a very truncated version of our visit, due to the fact that we covered so much in such a brief time span.

The remains of a tholos tomb in Marathon--windows were placed over the graves so the skeletons could be seen.

A tholos on the actually site of the Battle of Marathon. The Athenians who fought and died in the battle were buried here where they fell as a special honor.

A statue of a pre-pubescent girl--a dedication to the goddess: Artemis. Artemis is the goddess of the hunt as well as female puberty rituals. This was at the museum in Brauron

Some more dedications to the goddess. These are fancy perfume holders.

Very cool! Theses are pieces of wooden offering to the goddess. I was surprised there was anything left!

THEE Artemis temple at Brauron. It was probably the smallest temple that I  had seen my entire time at Greece. It was set very nicely into the countryside.

A temple to Poseidon at Sounion.

Another image of the temple. Lord Byron of Britain actually etched his name into one of the columns. 

I found this beauty in the water of the beach at Sounion.

A cave at Eleusis where the grain goddess Demeter and her daughter Persephone were worshipped.

A lovely sarcophagus.

A votive offering to Demeter. Pigs in particular were sacred to Demeter. A piglet was a typical offering to Demeter.

A keratid.

This contraption was worn on the knee and thigh of women who worked in the textile industry. Threads were rubbed upon the clay prior to being used.

Delphian Adventures and an Unhappy Bus

The last two days were spent in the mountainous region of Delphi. The views were magnificent and I felt right at home cradled by Mt. Parnassos. This site had special meaning for me because, here, at this site, is where I was to give my report on the Delphic Oracle—I gave it this morning at approximately 10 AM. I was a bit nervous, but hours of preparation left me with more than enough to say for the fifteen minute duration it needed to last. I just ran through a brief history of what times the oracle was in use, as well as, the personnel and consulters that came into contact with it. I spoke about the purification rituals, the sanctuary, the choosing of the Pythia (the oracles) and the actual consultations themselves. A few times, I had to stop myself and remember to slow down, breathe, and speak like a normal human being—I just get so excited to share what I have been able to learn through my research.  As I continue my research and begin to write my paper upon the topic I selected, I will focus on the glut of controversy that surrounds the Delphic Oracle. The topic is simply drenched in it. Historians disagree on everything from the use of the Castilian Spring in the purification rituals to the way the oracle spoke to source of the oracles divinations (my favorite theory is the one in which a chasm in the floor with escaping gases like ethylene is proposed)—there is no shortage of material to use. Another side I am very interested in exploring just for my own personal understanding is a comparison between the oracles and Biblical prophets. The prophets of the Bible (this power granted by the Lord) have never once been wrong, and according to Grecian history and legend neither were the Pythia. The Pythia were claimed to be incorruptible; however, on a least two accounts they laid down their fidelity to the charms of bribery. The prophets of the Lord were undeniably sinners (recall the story of Balaam), but the Lord used them for His purpose even in the midst of this. I would also like to explore the ways in which divinity can manifest itself: the Lord used prophets, and on the other hand, the New Testament references a case in which an evil spirit possesses a girl, granting her powers of divination. Everything about the Pythia is shrouded in mystery, yet most of the Lord’s involvement with divination is done plainly for all to see. I think that a comparison of these two would render some interesting finds.

Right now I am currently on the bus on our way back to good ol’ Athens so we can finally relax and also study for our final. However. We have run in to a problem: our bus just broke down about five minutes outside of Delphi.  Every time the bus’ engine gets over a certain rev, a strange high-pitched sound like someone slowly letting the air out of a balloon while pinching the opening emanates from the bus. We are currently sitting on the shoulder of the road and waiting for our driver to evaluate the problem.

Continued . . . we have since moved on and are making slow but steady progress towards Athens. The noise still occurs at regular intervals.

A temple to Athena at Delphi.

Another view of the Athena temple.

There was a tribe of tabby cats in Delphi! Of course I had to pet them!

The omphalos ("naval") stone because Delphi was allegedly the center of the world (to the Greeks, there only was Greece). Legend has it that Zeus let two eagles fly from each end of the world to meet in the middle which happened to be Delphi.

The Athenian Treasury. On it are inscriptions with musical notes. People have actually recreated the ancient music and you can buy CDs of it.

A view of the temple of Apollo.

The temple of Apollo again.

A sunset view of Delphi.

The Delphic stadium where part of the Pythian Games were held (they were only second to the Olympics).

A big group of us had slushies before entering the museum. They literally had about 20 different slushy machines going at the same time.

Part of a frieze. I love the detail!

A silver bull--an offering to Apollo.

Some lovely golden flowers.

Appliques that show one of the deeds of Hercules and also, Odysseus hiding under a ram to escape from Polyphemus.

The Delphian charioteer--another dedication to Apollo.

Idiosyncrasies

One of my favorite parts of being here in Greece is witnessing and experiencing many of the idiosyncrasies that make this country what it is. I dedicate this post to some of the oddities that I have seen, and smiled at.

First of all, a good amount of the graffiti here is not like the graffiti at home—it is rather beautiful and interesting art in a frowned upon medium. I have included two examples of such artwork. So much emotion and thought goes into each piece and it truly is ubiquitous. It graces trains, apartment buildings, and even schools—no part of town is free from its influence.

A piece of graffiti art not far from our apartments.

Many advertisements here in Greece are spelled in endearingly phonetic ways; concepts are boiled down to most basic parts. At a diner in Olympia, we picked up the menu to peruse and were charmed by the spelling of the word “cheeseburger:” the people who had created the menus had spelled out “cheisburger--” spelling out the concept with the typical accent included. A few examples of the simplistic approach to American concept are the KFC advertisements that declare that they offer “Hot Leg” meals as pictured below. Another, was a sign I saw for Lipton tea which was advertising “Ice Tea,” omitting the telltale final “d” in “iced” because, let’s face it, us lazy Americans are sometimes very lax in enunciating the certain consonants. The repercussions of such sometimes show up in very unlikely places ergo Athens’ metro stations.

The "hot leg" option of KFC.

The women’s fashion here is impeccable. Harem pants are still going strong here—a vast majority of the women sport them. One of my friends, Lizzie, actually purchased a black-and-white-patterned pair from the local H&M, and swears they are the most comfortable thing that she has ever worn. If anyone can make this fashion a fad in the US, she is the woman for the job: she is a modern day Jackie O. Another fashion that is everywhere is wedges and pumps: they are literally everywhere.  You will see women riding scooters or motorbikes while sporting wedges, and even hiking up to archeological sites in them. Last Sunday, when Professor Hutton, Claire, Maura, and I were hiking to the top of the Philappapos Hill, a woman in a short white dress and five inch royal blue stilettos was picking her way among the cobble stones in order to get up to a church about a hundred feet up the path. The last fashion I feel is worth mentioning is the pantsuit—they are worn with pride and a tasteful display of femininity and confidence. Lizzie, also purchased an article of this type of clothing as well and she rocks it. The women here are just so beautiful in the way they hold themselves: with poise, confidence, and just a hint of attitude.

The group taking a silly picture. Lizzie is the one on the far right and is sporting the harem pants.

Other random things:

·      Trash is picked up late at night as opposed to in the early morning like in the states.

·      Coca-Cola, Powerade, and other sugared beverages here are really tasty. As corn is not a main product of the Greek diet, corn syrup is not used here to sweeten drinks. Instead, real sugar is used.

Pota vs. Pita

The lovely Maura Brennan and I set out at approximately eight o'clock this evening to fetch ourselves some grub and fresh air (at least as fresh as it gets in Athens). Claire was not feeling too well, so she opted to stay, but she bid us good luck in our foraging. Maura and I decided to go to the same restaurant that we ate at our first week of being here (has it really already been three weeks?!) thinking that it was a safe bet . . . we were wrong.

The waiter fetched us menus promptly, and we cracked them open, stomachs growling in anticipation as we read them. Maura opted for the chicken, I, for the pork souvlaki . . . with "pita." Having ordered this a dozen plus times in Nafplio, I felt confident ordering this dish that had become a staple of my diet here in Greece. We placed our orders and I specifically asked the waiter for pita with my order. He reiterated my request, and I nodded my consent. A few minutes later the waiter returned with toasted bread topped with herbs and a drizzle of olive oil and  . . . a bottle of "Fix Hellas" beer. Maura and I peered at each other with questioning glances as the waiter popped the top on the bottle. Thoroughly confused, we simply moved the bottle to the other side of the table and set into the bread. About thirty minutes and a dozen mosquito bites later, our food came--my souvlaki was bereft of pita. Saddened, more confused, but no less hungry, I dug into my souvlaki, and was very pleased with it's taste though I was a bit dejected by the absence of my pita. Maura and I decided that we would just sort the matter out when the receipt came. Well, soon enough we were finished and had a nice long chat while reminiscing about this past month and getting to know everyone. We received the check and scanned over it. On it, it said that I had ordered "pota" which in Greek just means "drink." I, the baby on the trip, and Maura, one of the non-drinkers on the trip had been the ones to unwittingly order a house beer.

That is just our luck. Afterwards, to replace the pita I missed out on, I went to the neighborhood bakery shop and had a lovely chocolate pudding to remedy the situation. As for the beer, we just took it back to our flatmate as a gift from our excursion. I know now to really make sure I enunciate a little more clearly when ordering.

Me and my pota.

Chocolate pudding: a true panacea.

The Common Thread

In every culture, at every age, at any given time period, death is sad. The degrees of sorrow over one's passing vary based on religious beliefs and other personal feelings; however, there is a measure of grief in all such partings. Death, like dance, music, or love, is a cross-cultural concept, and sympathy from strangers for those affected can exist, even if a common language (or even a common age) cannot. This phenomenon prevails because death is not just the end of one's life, one's story on earth: it is THE end, the finish line over which ALL of us must pass before continuing onto what lies ahead of us in eternity. Death is one of the few threads that is common in every single person's tapestry of life.

Yesterday was yet another balmy afternoon in the bustling city of Athens, and the day trip was one to the museum in the harbor town of Piraeus, charming, yet a bit overbearing. Dozens of yachts from everywhere were moored to the docks: an unconscious modern day portrayal of the days of yesteryear in which people of all nations flocked to the Athen's most used harbor for trade and associated purposes. Only a few blocks from this lively shipyard was the Piraeus museum; our day's destination, its modesty juxtaposing with the frivolous nature of the enormous ships. Though its visage was not much to praise, the richness of the treasures within belied its modest appearance. Though many artifacts of unequalled importance lied within its walls, the pieces that touched me most were the funerary monuments.

The statues of the gods gracing the temple inventories of all the museum we have been to thus far have never quite touched me the way the monuments in the Piraeus museum have. I find the way in which stone--course, cold, and unfeeling--can be sculpted into such poignant farewell scenes, capable of drawing a mist to one's eyes, to be utterly overwhelming.

The funerary stele with the with the deceased woman and her family.

The first touching funeral stele that I came across was a scene in which the deceased, a woman who had died in childbirth, was among her family. She grasped her husband's forearm in a gesture of love and farewell. Her midwife held the now motherless infant in her arms, her face a picture of sadness. In the background, the woman's mother looks on, sorrow heavy upon her brow, perhaps thinking of watching her own daughter grow up and realizing that she won't see her own child do so.

An older man grips the arm of a younger man in a gesture of farewell.

Another sad depiction on the steles are those that portray the deceased as doing the activities which they loved most. Below, the stele on the right depicts an athlete scraping sweat and olive oil after some athletic competition. On the left, an actor is staring into the face of one of the drama masks used in a performance. These depictions are so touching to me because it shows the deceased as fully aware of what they are giving up as they bid their farewells. The true sadness is found in that both parties, dead and alive, are deeply sorrowed by the death: the deceased too, mourns a bitter farewell.

The athlete.

The actor