Some days you are the bug, some days you are the windshield.

For my fall break, while all of my friends went to exotic locations all around Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa, I decided to stay in Greece and travel to Rhodes and Santorini, completely alone. As one of my professors described it very beautifully, I needed to get out of this Petri dish of people. So off I went.

After my 15 hour ferry ride, I stumbled off the boat, exhausted and confused as to where I was in the Rhodes town. After about 20 minutes of wandering around with my pack on back and without any sleep, I realized that the map I had did not show the harbor I was docked in. I was off the grid. Have no fear, Intuition is here! Somehow I made it to the tourist office and then from there to my hotel.

After setting down my things, I walked along the deserted beach to the aquarium. It was really neat and a relieving change from the overload of archaeology sites I've been going to in the last few weeks.

Sea Anemones

However, you can take a girl out of an archaeology site,

but you can't take the archaeology out of the girl. I soon found myself in the archaeology museum wandering around and marveling at all the sculpture and mosaics. This may be one of my favorite museums, yet. It was a converted 15th century hospital for the knights on the islands.

While you can easily get lost and the rooms aren't the best for "flow," the architecture of the

building rivaled the pieces it was used to display. Many times, I caught myself oh-ing and ah-ing at the building itself rather than the beautiful mosaic in front of me.

That night, I hung out at a quaint little coffee shop right near my hotel. I talked a lot with my waiter, Armand, and he invited me to take me up to the Acropolis and show me around the next day. My own personal tour guide!

The next morning came a little too soon and I woke up to sounds of crashing thunder. It was a monstrous storm. I hung out at a [different] cafe until it passed then met up with Armand that afternoon. We made our way up to the Acropolis and around the stadium. We ended at this gorgeous scenic road that looked over the entire city of Rhodes. It was quite windy and cold, but I was having a blast.

The Acropolis of Rhodes

After Armand and I parted ways, I explored the Old Town a bit more and found a great pizza and tea shop (weird combination, I know, but somehow it worked) called The Walk Inn. The owner was a Greek-American who grew up in Baltimore. Apparently I was the third girl from New Jersey who ate at his place today. Watch out, We're Invading!

The next day, I was going to pick up my ferry ticket for Santorini and just relax at a cafe and people watch, my absolute favorite activity. When I got to the travel agency, there were a few problems. Actually, just one big problem. There was no ship. Because of the huge storm the day before, the ferry was unable to dock. The next one would be coming on Monday. WHAT?! I'm stuck here? No thank you, that answer does not suffice, please try again. The travel agent was quite helpful though and was able to refund my ticket and get me on a plane back to Athens that night. A one hour flight versus a 15 hour ferry, for about the same price? Count me in!

Although I was not able to see Santorini, I experienced a lot of Rhodes and was able to detox from the overstimulation of constantly being around people. All in all, it was a successful fall break!

Galavanting all over the Peloponnese

I just came home from a week long field trip to the Peloponnese. While this was my second and third time at some of the sites, the views, architecture, and just down and dirty archaeology never cease to amaze me.

After piling on the bus and crossing over the Corinth Canal, we arrived at one of my favorite sites: Mycenae. I felt like I was going back home. I visited this site during my dig (see previous posts) and I've spent the better part of the summer obsessing about the Mycenaean civilization.

As we ascended the pathway up to the huge walls of the citadel, I was literally skipping. I believe the phrase Cloud 9 comes to mind. We toured the ancient citadel and tholos tombs, stopping to have a picnic lunch at the edge of the site.

Alan, Sam, and I at Mycenae

Even though I had enough pictures of the site from my last trip here to fill a few extra large photo albums (I think I inherited that trait from my mom) I still felt the overwhelming urge to capture every rock and view and corbelled vault.

Our hotel was in the city of Nafplio, just about 20 minutes away from Mycenae. It is a gorgeous little city with oodles of character and charm. This was the city that was intended to be Greece's capital, instead of Athens, after the War of Independence. It is right on the water and the Old Town is lined with little boutiques and gelato shops, perfect for a stroll.

One of the "Seven Brothers" that protected the port of Nafplio during the Ottoman Occupation.

Not all the sites we visited were ancient. Mystra was a hilltop city in the Middle Ages, loaded with ruins of old churches and castles, with even a functioning nunnery. The views were breathtaking, almost rivaling Meteora for the "Most Picturesque" superlative.

Melanie and I at Mystra

We also stopped off at Epidaurus, Sparta, Delphi (you know, gotta consult that oracle!), and Olympia.

The Delphi Charioteer

At Olympia, we got to the museum just as it was opening. The combination of that and the fact that it is the off-season for tourists meant that we practically had the museum all to ourselves. When we walked into the room where the pediments were displayed, it was an out of body experience. These works of art are some of my favorite pieces. The images of Apollo and Zeus are striking yet reserved, truly deserving the title: masterpiece.

I love everything about these sculptures. What I love most is the power behind the sculpture. When looking at them, you directly connect with those living 2500 years ago. Your eyes and their eyes have gazed at the same image, which has generated the same emotions in each viewer. It is like gazing at the stars. A common focal point, seen from multiple planes and distances, unites all gazes into one unified vision. An image holds such power and beauty, things I repeatedly underestimate. A simple image contains so much knowledge, yet refuses to share it unless its hard shell of interpretation is cracked. It can be distorted and mistook, yet it yearns, almost shouts, to be understood. It is a mind bending brain teaser that beckons the eager scholar or the unintentional passerby. An image clasps onto you without any intention of letting you go. Fighting with an image only tightens its hold. Its water stain can be deep, unable to be washed off or rubbed out. The literal, visual sight be be gone, the the effect lingers like a smelly uncle, or burnt toast, or strong perfume, or freshly washed clothes. It can hug you and pierce you.

The artist is able to instill this feeling with only lines and shadow. He has survived the ages through his art. He lives forever in his crisp marble, preserved for posterity to marvel in awe and wonder at his ability to capture the emotion of the scene, the fluid nature of the body, the gaze of the eye, in heavy flat rock, lifeless inorganic matter.

4 months down, 2 more to go.

I am officially two-thirds of the way through my study abroad experience. I only have two more months in Europe, after an exhausting yet inspiring four months here. It is an erie feeling to know you are on the home stretch. While I want to go back home and see my friends and family, I have no real desire to leave the European, or better yet, the Mediterranean Lifestyle.

I love being able to sip an espresso for hours without someone hustling me out the door. While it can be frustrating at times, I like the way people just don't really care about things (to put it bluntly). Posting updated timetables for trains? Not a concern. It's a live-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type of life. The only thing that matters is right now, so stop worrying.

While I've written many a blogpost about the lack of comfort and irritating nature of my trip, I see it as my annoying little brother (if I ever had one, Thanks Mom and Dad for stopping at me by the way). I can make fun of him all I want. He's a dork, a dweeb, he irritates me to no end, but if someone else comes in and picks on him. No Sir. That guy is going down. How dare you insult him. He is wonderful, perfect, and mine.

I like being an outsider. Well, not exactly. Let me rephrase: I like the feeling of becoming an insider, the pregnant moment of being on the cusp, just before acceptance. The first moment when you can actually and successfully listen in on a conversation in Greek or Italian, or French or whatever, is exhilarating. When you can manage to get yourself across town without ever looking at a map: a very proud moment in my book. I fear that when I go back to the States, I will be going back to normal. Normalcy is synonymous with mediocrity and that scares me. I guess though, I've been doing a lot of things that would have scared me. Every fearsome moment is a chance to learn and grow. As Baz Lurhmann puts it, "Do one thing everyday that scares you." Maybe when I get back, it will be an antithesis to my experience here. I will be going on another exciting adventure into the unknown: home.

An English Tutor in a Hellenistic World

In order to make a few extra bucks whilst in Greece, I've been working as an English tutor for two families. Most of the time I love it...most of the time.

Every Monday I walk through the National Gardens, passed Syntagma Square, over to the posh neighborhood of Plaka, where the streets are literally lined with marble. I tutor two girls Martha and Yvonne, 4 and 5, and George, 4, for an hour and a half. We color, play games, eat snacks, and get in fights. A lot of fights. These kids do not want to play nice. Now, I would be able to handle these situations just fine over in the States, or even yet, if the children spoke any English at all. Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pro at babysitting; I've been doing it since I was 10. I can get kids laughing and playing nice within 10 seconds of them pulling each other's hair out. However, my magic charm does not seem to work over here in the Aegean. No matter what I do, one of them will inevitably steal another's marker, hit someone, stomp on a Lego tower, kick my shins and run out of the room crying, about every 15 minutes. Oh the joys of children.

However, there are moments of clarity, when all three of them are peacefully sitting at the table or all reading a book. It's at these moments when I get to use my excellent educational skills (enter stage-right Dripping Sarcasm). In every sense of the phrase, I am a broken record. For the last month we have gone over the same colors over and over and over again. One time, I found I was saying the wrong colors, simply because my mind refused to work. I would point to a white sheep and say Purple, or a black dog and say Red. Luckily, they have absolutely no idea what I'm saying anyway. Last week, we sang Old MacDonald for a solid 20 minutes straight. The result of this painfully tedious exercise? All three clucked like chickens for the remainder of the lesson.

Hiking up Mt. Olympus and suffering the wrath of Zeus

This weekend I went on a trek up Mount Olympus with 28 other people from CYA. The conditions were less that spectacular. When we got off the bus (a SEVEN hour ride, ugh can you say leg cramps?) it was pouring down rain. Our guide was about to cancel the trip entirely, but we convinced him that we wouldn't melt if we got wet. And, boy. did we get wet...

The first two hours of the hike we were completely soaked, but we trudged on. As we climbed in altitude, the weather turned colder.

The rain turned to sleet, then to snow. Before we new it, we were in the middle of a snow storm and I couldn't help but break out into total nerd mode, Lord of the Rings style. For those who need some edification, here is a link to what I'm referring to. Granted, it wasn't as bad for us as it was for Frodo, but you get the drift (no pun intended).

We finally made it to our refuge just as the sun was beginning to set. Our sleeping conditions consisted of one giant bed for all of us and tons of blankets. Did I mention that we had no heat?!

Instead of going to the summit, we had to return the next day because of icy conditions. Only a few people fell on the way down the mountain, but without any major injuries. One of my friends slipped on some ice and fell straight into another hiker who was heading up the trail. The only thing he said in his broken English was, "Shit Happens," and continued on his way. I feel like that is quite indicative of our entire trip.

At the bottom of the mountain, there was a waterfall that people were jumping into. I refrained, considering the temperature was a little above freezing, but many others didn't think twice about jumping straight into unbearably cold water. I did however get some pretty GREAT reaction shots after they realized what they've done.

Meteora: Why do we look homeless every where we go?

Contrary to what many might think from my last post, my birthday weekend was amazing. I, along with 3 of my friends, went to Meteora, an outcropping of sheer limestone cliffs which are home to 6 active monasteries. We spent the weekend camping and hiking up to all of them. There were some amazing views from the top.

We got up early Friday morning and made our way to the train station in Athens (about a 40 minute commute from our apartment) and took the five hour train to Kalambaka, the main town next to the monasteries. The view as we got off the train was breath taking. Right from the start, I could tell we were going to have a great weekend. The weather was perfect, very refreshing from the intense humidity of Athens; the people are some of the closest friends I have on the trip; the views are spectacular; the pace is slow yet exciting. Can you ask for better conditions?

After checking into our camp ground, we had a quick lunch and hiked up to one monastery just in time to do some exploring and see the sunset.

Saturday, we got up really early and hit four monasteries in a row, stopping only for a picnic lunch on the top of a cliff. When visiting places like this, it really is no wonder why the ancient Greeks had such a dynamic pantheon of gods. During our hikes up to the monasteries, I fully expected Pan to jump out with a trail of nymphs frolicking behind him.

After our lunch, we made it back down to our camp site, stopping to pick berries and talk with other travelers and hikers along the way. We took some naps, recouped, and headed to a taverna to celebrate my birthday. Basically, the taverna was the best restaurant I've eaten at in a long time. We sat outside under a roof of ivy and sat there and talked for the rest of the night, sipping tea that warmed our bodies and calmed our minds. We got some baklava from the bakery down the street and brought it back to the campsite to have a little birthday celebration there.

On Sunday, we took the train back to Athens. We soon realized that the Greek train system leaves much to be desired, like punctuality, assigned seats, knowledgeable conductors, platform assignments, and much more. However to my surprise, we made it to Athens safely. When we got home, the rest of my apartment-mates had decorated the apartment with balloons and had apple pie and ice cream waiting for me. It pretty much was the best birthday ever.