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So I've made it back to my wonderful, cozy home in New Jersey, thus officially marking the end of my mediterranean adventure and therefore my blog. I hope you enjoyed my posts. Catch you on the flip side!

Goodbye Athens

Today is the last day I have in Greece. My grand adventure is coming to a close. By 2 am tonight I will board a bus that will take me to the airport to begin my long haul back to the United States.

This is a very bittersweet moment. As I write this, I am alone in the apartment, last to leave, just waiting for my time. Looking at the empty walls, the stripped beds, the cleaned out closets, it's almost too hard for me to handle. Yet, I am looking forward to seeing all of my family and friends again. It will be a wonderful change to actually find comfort and a home. Athens brought me lots of joys, as did Pylos and Italy. I have learned more than I could have possibly imagined. I laughed, I cried, both profusely and at times, simultaneously. I have made some precious friends for whom I thank my lucky stars.

Everything was unique. Everything will be treasured. It is inevitable that when placed into these types of situations, the goodbye-type, a fierce sense of nostalgia sets in. Being stranded on Hydra for a weekend without a hotel room: one of the greatest weekends of my life. Climbing up to the sanctuary at Delphi: a purely magical experience. Our fearless guardian, Scout, the stray dog that always follows us at night to make sure we get home safely: now is only a memory. I may even miss these:

Well....maybe.

I can't look at the city, this country, this continent, the world, now and say goodbye, just see you later. I will be back.

Twas the month before Christmas....

Athens at Christmastime is lackluster to say the least. Of course there are lights, but they are sporadic and wimpy. The weather has just started to turn cold, well colder than humid 70 degree "autumn." The trash is just starting to get picked up from a horrendously long garbageman strike.

Since I had some free time after my Modern Greek final this afternoon, I rewrote the the well known poem "Twas a Night Before Christmas" to fit the reality of Athens at Christmastime. I hope you enjoy:

Twas the Month before Christmas

Twas the month before Christmas, when all through the town,

Not a trash can was emptied, and the metro shut down.

The keys were all hung on the sticky tack hooks,

In hopes that the house would be robbed by no crooks.

The ladies were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of verb forms danced in their heads.

And Katie in her tie-dye and I in my boots,

Had just settled many ancient Greek noun disputes.

When out on the street, there arose such a clatter,

I rolled over and slept, not bothering the matter.

Probably a cat or a dog, or a stray,

Was having a fight or so some would say.

The moon that was covered by the old, smelly smog,

Gave the luster to the Hellenic teens having a snog.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a bottle of booze from the OK mart cashier.

And some cops did arrive, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment one must be called Nick.

They did no such search or arrest of any sort,

But he whistled and shouted and called his cohorts.

Now Giannes! Now Potras! Now Gorgos, Andreas!

On mopeds, on scooters, on vespas to Pireaus.

To the top of the hill, to the top of wall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!

As cigarette smoke in the humid air blows,

They whisk away girls, right under her nose

So up to Lykavittos Oh Manos, he flew

With Katie on his back, and obedient too!

But back to the town, lets describe it some more.

Juxtaposed to the new are the ages of yore

Down in Syntagma Square as I walk down the road

No lights, but some riots, maybe a bomb that explodes.

The city’s too poor for even a tree

But the people they say, “Don’t blame it on me!”

The crisis is their fault, or his, of course hers

No money for pine trees, no conifers or firs.

Monastiraki has some twinkling bright lights,

But watch out for drunkards, they get into fights.

Exharkia’s got anarchists, should they take a bow

For stirring up ruckus, so the news has a cow.

Kolonaki is where many a step can be found

So can the “Dream Team,” a name we have crowned

Omonia is where all the cool kids hang out

As do pigeons and homeless and gypsies about

But back in Pangrati, not a storefront is glowing

With garland or tree lights or ribbon a-flowing

The sidewalks are slippery, without even rain,

Walking them in heels, induces great pain

And oh how we wish for a bit of the Spirit

To bring us great cheer, so come on, lets hear it.

But instead we light candles on Sarah’s menorah

And pretend we’re all Jewish and all read the Torah.

But a Christmas we’ll have, in just a short while,

And ignore that bad transcript CYA has on our file,

And we all will exclaim as we fly out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

No Ships, We Strike!

On Friday, Karen and I planned on visiting the island of Aegina, right off the coast of Athens. We woke up quite early (6:30...ouch) and headed down to the port of Pireaus. Having ordered the tickets online, we needed to pick them up at the port authority before boarding the ship. No big deal. When we got to the ticket office, it was closed. Apparently it opens at 9am. Our ferry was leaving the port at 8:50. This makes for a little incongruous situation. Typical Greece. Of course we would be sold tickets for a ferry that leaves ten minutes before we are able to actually get our tickets. Well, that ended up not being the numero uno problemo of the day... We found another man who apparently worked for the harbor. When we asked him about the tickets, he just looked at us, smiled, and said, "No Ships. We Strike!" in the most cheerful tone I have ever heard at 8 in the morning. Was I supposed to be happy for him?

Well, no worries. We went back home and I called the travel company, with which we booked the tickets, to see if we could get a refund. After settling that whole bit, Karen and I made use of our free day and climbed the Acropolis. It was amazing; however, on the walk up, I get a call on my cell phone. It is the ship company. What do they say? "Hi! There are no ships today. We Strike!" "Yeah, I kind of got that, considering I'm not on Aegina right now. Thanks for the info, about 3 hours too late."

An American Thanksgiving, Greece Style

I am so thankful and lucky that Karen was able to join me for Thanksgiving. I picked her up at the airport on Wednesday and she had with her most of the fixins for a traditional American dinner. She brought cranberry sauce (with the ridges!), stuffing, cream of mushroom soup and french fried onions for the green bean casserole. I have been looking forward to seeing her for so long. I was thrilled when she walked though that customs gate!

Thursday, we went to the Central Market to get all the produce to make our feast: green beans, eggplant, fresh eggs, celery, onions, potatoes, apples, and cinnamon. When we got home, we went straight to cooking. Let me tell you, for having a 1ft. by 1ft. work space, no measuring cups, one dull knife, and an oven that doesn't really show the temperature, this Thanksgiving dinner was pretty delicious. It was no comparison to Mom's home cooking, but we weren't too shabby with what we had to work with. We made the classic Guthrie sticky rolls, mashed potatoes, roasted butternut squash, stuffing, monkey bread, cranberry sauce and apple crisp. YUM! Since not everything could be made at once in our tiny little oven, we had to cook things in shifts. We starting with our very Greek tsatsiki and bread for appetizers, then adopted the European coursed meal. We spread the meal out into an entire afternoon of eating, or rather grazing. By the end of the night, we were some pretty stuffed birds.

We finished the day with a Skype call back home. It was really nice to see everyone in one place. Karen and I both agreed that we missed the craziness of Guthrie holidays, but at the same time, are kind of glad we are taking a break from the constant noise and chaos that defines a Guthrie Thanksgiving.

Sometimes, it's right under your nose.

My roommate and I set off one morning to find the grand, much-talked-about Central Market of Athens. It is supposed to be the quintessential place for fresh meat, fish, fruits, vegetables, eggs, dried herbs, honey, wine, you name it. Surrounding the iron and glass building are quaint little vendors, screaming their heads off trying to get you to buy something from them. One man, while he had an entire array of fresh produce, kept shouting about his bananas. "FRESH BANANAS! LOOK AT THESE BANANAS! DO YOU WANT TO BUY SOME BANANAS?" I was very tempted to go up to him and say, "Excuse me, sir, do you happen to have any bananas by any chance? I didn't quite understand what you were saying."

After wandering around the streets of fresh produce, Katie and I decided to head inside the market. If outside is this great, inside must be Narnia! Au contraire, my friend. As we stepped inside, the smell of fish was strong enough to knock me out. There was about an inch of water on the floor from the melting ice covering the fish. There was not a vegetable in sight. The crowds were packed like the sardines they were buying. We walked as fast as we could to the other end of the market, trying not to slip on the innards that were casually tossed on the floor. There has got be a different area. Well, there was. We turned the corner and just as we stepped away from the fish guts and octopus tentacles, we literally ran into a man hacking away at a freshly slaughtered lamb. Wonderful. I hightailed my little vegetarian butt out of there as fast as I could. Traumatizing.

After loading ourselves down with dried raisins, apricots, oatmeal, lavender, and cinnamon, we wandering around the area for a bit. Personally, it was the first time I felt like I was living in a capital of a country. Athens is a great city, but is not very beautiful. However, near the Central Market, the architecture is cohesive and monumental, the streets are clean and bustling, the squares are well groomed and inviting. It was a gorgeous walk and exploration around a wonderful part of the city.

The biggest thrift store I have ever seen

I also went to the Benaki Museum, my now favorite museum in all of Athens, quite possibly the world, though the Rhodes Archaeological Museum puts up a good fight. The Benaki used to be a private collection of the Benaki family, which was given over the Greek government. The family's mansion was turned into the museum, exhibiting all the pieces beautifully and intimately. The collections range from 6000 BC all the way to modern art. While for the most part the collections follow a chronological order, there are random modern pieces displayed in line with the ancient collection. I love this juxtaposition. It is quite refreshing to see the contrast between the two so vividly. I appreciate both periods of art, but when exhibited as one cohesive unit, I am forced to recognize the stark differences and surprising similarities within the 8,000 year range of art.