The worst apple pie in the world

Today was a little subpar, at best. For some reason I had very itchy feet (metaphorically, not literally). I needed to get out of Athens, out of a city, away from people. Being in an apartment with 5 other girls can get a little crowded, even though we have a great time and get along really well. A girl just needs her space. Well, since I have a commitment to my classes and studies, it's not that easy to just pick up and head out to the country in the middle of the week. I did the next best thing.

I grabbed my book, keys, and a few bucks and headed out the door to my favorite cafe: Ciao Italia. It's a little over priced and the espresso isn't the best I've ever had, but it reminds my of my time back in Italy, and for that, I am willing to overlook it's shortcomings.

Usually I would just get an espresso, enjoy the little complimentary biscotti, and be on my way. Today, though, was a particularly rough day. I was completely lost in Greek class, I made a fool of myself in the cafeteria, was under a lot of emotional stress and exhausted from physical fatigue of breathing in smog for the past month, and to top it off, I came to the realization that I will be alone (without any best friends or family) on my birthday, which is coming up in a few days. Today needed more than just a cup of espresso. It needed apple pie.

If you grew up in my house, you would know the ins and outs of apple pie. It is more than a dessert. It is a ritual experience that occurs every holiday. Homemade crust, perfectly cut apples, bake to perfection. My mother has this art down to a science, and because of that, I have somewhat high standards when it comes to pie. However, I've become used to the underachieving pie, the over cooked, the runny pie, but this one takes the cake. It was the worst pie on the face of the planet. All I wanted was a reminder of home, a little bit of comfort I could sink my fork into. And would I be asking too much for a little bit of vanilla ice cream? Instead, I got a frozen chunk of apples and a spoon. Even after it thawed, the taste was unbearable, the texture even worse. I quickly paid for this abomination that dared share its name with my mother's glorious concoction and went home, still in a mad mood, now with an awful taste in my mouth.

My itchy feet will just have to wait until this weekend, when I head to Meteora (in Central Greece) to spend the weekend camping and hiking up to cliff monasteries all over the area. I can't wait.

Crete: the land of 1,000 faces

This past week, I, along with the other 160 people in my program, traveled to Crete for a week-long "educational" field trip. I loved every minute of it.

Crete is know as the land of 1,000 faces. It has a pretty rough history, having been taken over by many, many empires. The only indigenous people that are actually from the island are the Minoans, a civilization dating back to about 1500 B.C. After that, Crete was just a conquered colony of one empire after another, each bringing its own flare and personality of people. This makes Crete a very diverse island. On the mainland, everyone looks fairly similar: brown eyes, brown hair, olive skin, similar bone structure; but on Crete, it's a medley of blondes, brunettes, red heads, green eyes, blue eyes, BLACK eyes, short, tall, thin, heavy, low cheek bones, large chins. People watching definitely was at its peak when I stepped off that boat.

However, I didn't get to do much people watching once my program started its schedule. We went to practically every Minoan archaeological site on the island:

Knossos, Phaistos, Gortyn, Arkani, Hania, you name it. Even for me, an archaeology major, it was quite exhaustive. Our professor lectured us at each site, inevitably drawing a crowd of tourists who got bored of their own cruise-line-assigned tour guides, following us around like lost puppies.

As for the Minoan civilization, we know very little about the actual society, and without literary sources, we can

only gather so much from the architecture. A Minoan archaeologist's catch phrase for anything that doesn't make sense is "it's probably of ceremonial significance." This phrase was uttered so much on the trip that it soon became a running joke. Why is the bus late? It's probably of ceremonial significance. How come there is an extra 2 euro tacked onto our bill? Ceremonial Significance.

While we spent most of our time at archaeological sites, we did venture into the modern world once or twice. We visited a beach town called Matala.

Matala was popularized by a bunch of hippies from the 1960s and 70s who expatriated from America to live in manmade caves (from the Roman times). While the hippies no longer live in the caves, they still roamed the streets. We had lunch there and explored the caves, which were cut into practically sheer cliffs. One of our friends fell, then got stung by a bee, and then dislocated his finger. He was having a little bit of a bad day...but it probably had ceremonial significance.

One of our other modern destinations was the monastery of Arkadi.

It has a beautiful church and rose garden. We spent 45 minutes just wandering around, admiring the amazing yet subtle architecture of the complex.

Most of the towns we stayed in were old Venetian ports. Within the old walls of the town, the streets were narrow and winding, perfect to get lost in. While they allowed for any unsuspecting passerby to drown in the sea of alleyways and back roads, they were easily navigable. If you happen to be lost, all you have to do is walk north (or the direction of the water) and you'll find yourself at the harbor, true for any Venetian city. From there it is quite simple to reorient yourself and find your hotel. Needless to say, I got lost many times.

A crowded trolley is never my friend

Athens has fairly good public transportation, when they are not on strike that is. Thanks to the 2004 Olympics, the transportation infrastructure of this city greatly improved. We have access to trams, trolleys, buses, metro lines, and ferries. They all accept the exact same ticket which can be used for any mode of transportation for up to 90 minutes of travel. For any point in the city, there are about 4 different ways of getting there. It is quite convenient.

The down side? Everyone else knows it's convenient as well. The trolleys are always packed. The metro lines are jammed with people. You're practically pushed off the bus by the crowds, even if it's not your stop.

Today, I had to go to the National Archaeological Museum for my Greek Sculpture class. No Big. I know exactly what to do. Get on the number 11 trolley and take it to the National Archaeological Museum bus stop. Sounds easy? Well, it is. I've done it plenty of times. Today should be no different. Except, it was.

As the trolley approached the stop I was waiting at, I got a little nervous. It was more crowded than usual. People were literally pressed up against the windows. Every handle bar was filled with clenched fists, people unwavering to move, lest they lose their precious space on the bar. I was sandwiched in between a 4'10" saucy grandma, who was not afraid to throw some 'bows and an older man who apparently forgot to put on deodorant for the past twelve years. All the while, I was trying to make sure I was not getting pick-pocketed by the sketchy guy next to me.

I finally made it to my destination, flung myself off the bus, and nearly kissed the steps of the museum. I even had 10 minutes to spare before class! Beep Beep Beep. I got a text message. It was a reminder that class was not to be held at the museum, like the syllabus said, but in the classroom. WHAT?! I hauled my butt as fast as I could back to the bus stop and recreated my journey in reverse. 20 minutes later, I rushed into the classroom (now, 10 minutes late to class), smelling of stale perfume worn by the woman shoved against me for the entirety of the ride back.

I've definitely gotten used to a lack of personal space, as per normal Greek behavior, but today it got taken to a whole new level. Tonight, I am heading off on a week long field trip to Crete. Hopefully there I will have some wide, open space.

Around Athens

Last weekend, while everyone was taking huge ferries to Santorini or Mykonos, we hopped on a bus to Cape Sounion, about an hour and a half away from Athens. There sat an amazing Temple of Poseidon, with HUGE Doric columns and a view that will take your breath away. We visited the temple for a bit, took some good pictures, then headed to the beach to some relaxing and sun bathing. We heard about this grotto from another girl who went the weekend before. I am always up for an adventure, so we swam around the cape looking for it. We finally stumbled upon it, and it was amazing. The grotto was a small opening to a fairly decent sized cave, which the sea extended into. The echo inside was a little erie, but worth the 20 minute swim.

We stayed at Sounion to watch the sunset.

I also ventured to the Athenian Flea Market.

Not as bad as a Turkish Bazaar, but pretty close. Everyone is in your face, either trying to sell you somethings, push you out of the way, or pick your pocket. They sell everything, from old shoes, to books, watches, pirated movies, cameras, maps, jewlery, silver, antiques, clothes, megaphones. Everything you didn't think you needed

until you realized you didn't have. When I go back, I definitely need to work on my haggling skills. Canal Street in NYC taught me at least one lifeskill!

This weekend, we headed over to Hydra, an island off the coast of Athens, with incredible views and amazing tavernas. We spent the day lounging on the rocks and window shopping at all the little boutiques and mom&pop shops. The island does not allow motorized vehicles of any sort. The main mode of transportation was by foot, but there were the occasional donkey here or there, which meant the need to occasionally dodge the donkey droppings. I'm safe to say that I did not step in any of it, but I came pretty darn close.

Surprise, Surprise. So I'm a local now?

Today was full of surprises. Well, that is admittedly a hyperbole. Correction: today, I was surprised multiple times in one little conversation. I was reading in the National Gardens across from my apartment, completely content, completely oblivious to my surroundings, and engrossed in my book. A Greek man came up to me and started talking in Greek (I wouldn't say I was surprised, but definitely a little startled.) Surprise #1: I actually understood him. He wanted directions to Syntagma Square, which led me to Surprise #2: I actually knew where Syntagma Square was and could direct him to it. As he left, content with the information I gave him, I shared the same satisfaction of the interaction. I was surprised (#3) that he actually took me for a local. Most times, people take one look at me and automatically think: NOT FROM AROUND HERE, which of course, is correct. But today, I was a local, and I played the part with pride.

There is a weird feeling that arises, when one makes the transition from a tourist to a civilian. As Elizabeth Gilbert puts it in Eat Pray Love, "traveling-to-a-place energy and living-in-a-place energy are two fundamentally different energies." I miss the constant battle, yet eternal excitement of figuring out train time tables, stumbling my way through Italian to order gelato, conspicuously analyzing a city map, the list could go on. Now, I'm starting to settle into Athens. It is becoming my city. I'm becoming a resident, blending into my surroundings, well, as much as a 5'4" white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes can. Enough to get asked directions, in Greek no less, in a city where most everyone speaks English.

Being comfortable does have its benefits. I am knowledgeable. While I miss the excitement of initially gaining that knowledge, I like the fact that I don't need to pull out a map at every street corner. I like knowing shop owners by name and hole-in-the-wall tavernas. "Oh, you ate there? Did you try their moussaka? It's delicious." or "I know this great cafe around the corner. Want to check it out?" I've become irritated with tourists ooh-ing and ah-ing at the Acropolis (yet, on the inside, I still get the chills every time I see it. I try to justify it by saying it's because I'm a classics major). I've adopted a Mediterranean sense of time and grown accustom to little-to-no personal space (a very Greek ideal).

I'm always expanding my cognitive map (thank you, Mrs. Brown's IB psychology class) of this city, soaking it in step by step. I've reached a new level that I've never reached in my three months of travel so far: I am a local. Would you look at that.

Garden Parties and museum visits, it keeps getting better

The past week everyone in our program (College Year in Athens/DIKEMES) got invited to the President's house (of our program, don't get too excited) for dinner and garden party. Monday night, we all piled in three huge buses and fought our way through Athenian rush hour traffic to the northern suburbs. There we were greeted by his whole family and escorted into the garden. To sum it up in one word: gorgeous.

There were little tables set up everywhere and quaint flower beds and broken pots scattered in little corners of the property. You can't be the president of a classics school and not have imitation ancient pottery in your backyard. The food was amazing. MMMMM. Our apartment tried to do some mingling, but quickly realized, we are not that good at mingling. Oh well...

This past weekend I also experienced my first Athenian metro ride. Not very noteworthy, but the destination is. The Dream Team (the self-proclaimed title of our apartment) went to Archeon Gefsis, a restaurant that is a time machine back to Classical Greece. Can there be a more perfect spot for a bunch of archaeologists? The waiters wore traditional dress of 5th c. Athens, we ate traditional food, and drank traditional drinks. It was awesome.

Oh, and I guess I should mention some of my classes, the main reason why I am abroad in the first place. I love everything about them. For my Aegean archaeology and Greek sculpture courses we rarely meet in the classroom. Instead, we meet at various sites and museums around Athens. We learn directly from the pieces, instead of a powerpoint with fuzzy images. Why sit in a room studying the ancient agora, when you can be walking through it, pretending like you're Socrates and debating with the youth of Athens. In two weeks, CYA will be taking us to Crete on a week-long field trip to visit the ancient sites on the island. Can't wait!

Exploring Athens one neighborhood at a time

In order to understand the reasoning behind this post, you need a little history of Athens. Sit back class and take some notes.

Athens was never intended to be the modern capital of Greece. After the War of Independence in 1821-1830, many Greeks thought the city of Nafplio, on the east coast of the Peloponnese, ought to be the capital.

Instead, outside forces thought that Athens, the once thriving classical city, would be a more honorable capital than simply a large city with advanced infrastructure like Nafplio. Athens at the time was just a collection of small neighborhoods,

organically and sporadically placed within a small valley, and a city derived from there. Now, the neighborhoods have connected, yet remain somewhat independent bubbles of culture and style, each one having its own flair.

I've made it my goal to explore one neighborhood per day. After class is over for the day, I take my trusty map and pick a different neighborhood to go to. A few days ago I roamed the streets of Plaka, which is right near the Acropolis. There were tons of tourists and gimmicky shops, but the streets were beautiful and the sights were breathtaking. I definitely want to check out that part of town in about a month, when the tourist season dies down.

Yesterday, my roommate and I climbed to the top of Lykavittos Hill, the largest hill in Athens.

At the top, there is a theater, church and cafe. You can see every point of Athens from the top of the hill. Luckily, the smog wasn't too bad, and we could see the sea and bay.

Geia Sas! (hello!)

I finally made it Athens, got all settled in, and actually washed my clothes in a real washer and dryer! I live in a little apartment in Pangrati, which is a small neighborhood just east of the Parliment building and the National Gardens. I have 5 other roommates and only 1 bathroom. This makes for VERY hectic mornings.

The academic center, where I have all my classes and eat lunch, is literally right next door to the stadium (used in the first modern Olympic games, and restored to use in the 2004 games). It is a beautiful structure, made entirely of marble, and just a "little" reminder of the fact I'm living in a city rich in history and steeped with culture. Oh yeah, I can also see the ACROPOLIS from there too! For 150 classic majors at this program, this is pretty awesome. What better way to learn about the Parthenon, than going to the Parthenon? This definitely beats a picture in a textbook.

Besides the major monuments and museums that Athens can offer, I am also really fascinated with exploring the tiny little neighborhoods throughout the city. The neighborhood I live in has a flea market every Friday and I can't wait to check it out tomorrow. There are bakeries at almost every corner, cafes packed with people who just love to talk to you and get to know you, book stores, fruit stands, and pretty much everything else you would think a Greek neighborhood would consist of. At dinner time (around 10 pm) Tavernas lines the streets with their outside tables and child ride their bikes while their parents enjoy a long, relaxing meal.

People never hesitate to give you something whether you need it or not. When buying book supplies, the owner gave me free led for a mechanical pencil I bought and colored pencils for my roommate because she mentioned she liked to draw. The man who owns the cleaning supplies store at the corner of out street always stands outside his shop and waves as we walk by. Every time, he tries to teach us a new Greek word or phrase. Everyone is quite friendly and understanding that we cannot yet communicate with them but we are trying to learn. Our waitress at a cafe we went to talk to me for 10 minutes about an island I should check out, without me even asking for travel advice. I think I can get used to this lifestyle.