The blazing sun nearly "ruined" me ;b

    Yesterday was quite the exhausting adventure with trips to the ruins at Lerna, Mycenae (vastly impressive!), Tiryns, and the Heraion of Argos. Professor Hutton had assigned us readings on these locations and after reading them, going to the site had me agape in wonder as I recognized the significance of the places I was staring at. I am officially sunburnt; however, not to any real degree of seriousness, which is a relief.

What used to be the "House of Tiles" at Lerna.

The Lion's Gate at Mycenae (complete with photobombers).

The Treasury of Atreus at Mycenae. An enormous tomb!

The bowels of the treasury.

Maura next to the walls of the tomb for size comparison. The bricks are of a style known as Cyclopedian masonry because legend had it that the one eyed giants were the only ones capable of making and using such large bricks.

Going down into the underground cistern at Mycenae.

Half ice cream sandwich, half ice cream bar: total deliciousness.

Heraion of Argos ruins. A previous temple to Hera.

Ruins at Tiryns. An early form of making a crypt-like ceiling, though it does not yet utilize a capstone.

Broken storage pot at Lerna.

Fortification walls at Lerna.

Shaft grave at Lerna.

Now for tales of the evening adventures . . .

Before dinner, Caroline and I decided to venture out and explore the beloved Naflplio. Meandering down the street, we were passing a café when a middle-aged man seated at a bench along with his (Caroline deemed) creepy dog, when in broken English, the man called out to us. “

“Are you American?” he inquired. We continued to pass him without a word, but he was persistent.

 A little more loudly, he continued, “Are you American? Do you speak English?” Not wanting to be rude, we turned and uttered a curt affirmation of this fact, and tried to continue, but he wasn’t finished.

“ I am writing a book,” he declared. “What does this word ‘propensity’ mean?” We answered his question, and thinking we were done, turned to resume our wanderings. He stopped us again when a young woman, presumably a waitress came out and was looking through some papers.

“That girl,” he pointed to her,” she is my assistant. She didn’t know what propensity meant either.” The girl shot him a look of disgust and went back into the café. Quickly he assaulted us with a barrage of questions.

“Do you like Nafplio? “How long will you be here?” “Do you have maps of the city? I will give you some,” With this next statement, Caroline and I became fairly certain of the man’s motive—selling maps to rather unwilling buyers. As he went into the shop, Caroline and I turned, exchanged knowing glances, then promptly turned and fled.

Caroline and I chatted about how strangely (and offputtingly) insistent the man was. In America, such interactions just do not fly. We pondered this as we kept on cruising down the street.

Adventure two:

The worry beads.

As Caroline and I prowled the streets of Nafplio, seeking souvenirs upon which we deemed worthy of the spending our euros, we stumbled upon a quaint “worry beads” shop. These beads are a staple way to pass time by the adults in Greece. One uses them to pass time and to rid oneself of nervous energy by twirling and handling the beads. We were quickly greeted by a tiny, adorable, chipper sales woman with “Let me teach you all about the worry beads.” She then proceeded to tell us of the holistic value of the beads with the pressure points in one’s hands being massaged while using the beads. She attempted to teach us the twirling technique, but alas, I just simply looked like an out of control Aborigine violently swinging a bolo—not very therapeutic, but I will work on that. Then came the matter of actually deciding on what set to buy. She had an eclectic selection. Beads made of gemstones, plastic, obsidian, wood, bone, and even aromatic incense and palm seed made an appearance. The lengths too varied widely, and all were personally hand crafted by her. Perhaps, most clever of all was she took this cultural piece, shortened it a bit, and added a cinch so that the beads could be worn as a bracelet when not in use. This little lady was quite the businesswoman, and as I struggled which set I was going to purchase for myself, she set it upon herself to find which set “spoke to me.” She helped me narrow down the selections and once I decided on which sets did not appeal as much to me, she was swift to remove them so I wouldn’t be distracted. After narrowing down the selection to two kinds, she advised me to slip them both on and to go see “what the mirror told me.” I settled on a set of earth colored beads made of incense, which smelled lovely in addition to adding a pop of color to my outfit.  Caroline bought a normal lengthier set of a beautiful turquoise color as a family gift. Greatly satisfied with my purchase and utterly charmed by the sweetness of the shopkeeper, I left the shop for dinner with Caroline, Joe, and Maura—more souvlaki!!!

Adventure Three:

            A bunch of us went shopping after dinner and Caroline and I lead the group to a lovely jewelry store that we had visited earlier that day. I had spied a simple silver and opal ring in there that I liked, but it was too busy in the shop earlier to really do business. Brittany was in want of a Grecian ring to commemorate the trip, so I brought her into the shop and told the lady that my friend wanted a ring and that this was THEE shop to get it from. The lady seemed very flattered and she responded with a hearty “Efharisto!” As Brittany tried on rings, I kept eyeing the one I had seen before, but had not yet made a decision on if I was going to make the purchase. Brittany settled on a lovely silver ring with a unique hammered design and also purchased a silver ring inlaid with opal with the meandering design etched into it (this design is a classic Greek design which I am told means anything from eternity to long life and happiness). I asked the lady how much the ring was; she responded with the price of 25 euro. Still wavering, I set it down and she looked me in the eye, smiled and said, “But for you, twenty euro.” My heart was warmed by her kindness and I knew I just had to get the ring; I place a crumpled twenty on the glass, and hugged the lady. She stiffened with surprise at first and then hugged me back, kissing me on the cheek, laughing and thanking me for the embrace. She asked me how old I was—I responded, and she excitedly told me that she had a son of the same age. She grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the shop and across the tiny pedestrian street to a neighboring shop (presumably one of her relative's) and pointed at a picture of a young Greek man made into a personalized IPhone case, and declared that it was her son.  She then smiled at me and wished me a good night. I was really hoping that I did not accidently acquiesce to marriage or something.

More random facts and observations . . .

•       The European showers are tiny.
•      You are not supposed to flush toilet paper down Greek toilets as the pipes are quite narrow and the sewage is dealt with differently than it is in the states. Rather, you simple throw the toilet paper in the garbage receptacle.
•       Prices in shops are not usually prevalently displayed. I am not sure if this is to discourage theft or for some other reason. In addition, prices can be negotiable, and oft times the prices that are on the ticket can be reduced by haggling.
•      The price of bottled water is set by the government and is bottled at Greek sources. A liter bottle is one euro and a normal sized one is half a euro.
•      Illegal African immigrants will try to peddle you lots of different knock off items like Ray Bans, Rolex’s, and the like. This practice is illegal and they run the other direction if a policeman is around.
•       Many young children will try to either sell you things or beg for money from you even if you are sitting in one of the outdoor restaurants. They tend to be the children of gypsies and are looked down upon by the Greeks.