It has been nearly a month since I left the shores of what I came to call "my" island, and though I am now completely settled into my American summer routine, there are still mornings when I wake up half-expecting to see the familar snow-white walls of my apartment instead of the wooden panelling of my childhood room.
Studying abroad was an incomparably wonderful experience, an a fabulous opportunity to learn, challenge myself, and grow. I made new friends with a colorful and terrific variety of backgrounds, ideals, and beliefs. I saw things that I had only dreamt of...marble ruins still standing under the hot Mediterranean sun thousands of years after their construction; the ocean pounding against the palm-dotted cliffs of many islands; happy Greek families dancing in circles, rosy with local wine; blue and white houses stacked on hillsides like you might see in a postcard. I LIVED in a postcard! And I will be forever grateful. Anyone, anywhere, who has the chance to study in a foreign country, be it Greece, China, or Guatemala...go for it! I guarantee that you can't possibly regret it --- it will change your perspective on so many things, and you'll have so much fun doing it!!
Sigh. I miss my beach, my balcony, spinach pastries, my friends, a life of sun-warmed leisure.
BUT I just LOVE having a vertical shower, the ability to flush toilet paper, Chicago-style pizza, a distinct lack of creepy men, Chinese restaurants, Petoskey sunsets, and the possibilites of my American summer to come!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Bittersweet Goodbyes
So, today was my last full day on the beautiful island of Paros...the place that has become my home, my way of life. The past couple of weeks have certainly had their fair share of the busy factor...finishing up final projects, spending late nights in the painting studio amidst paint fumes and turpentine, hiking to our countryside clay studio for sculpture workshops on sweltering days, prepping for our final gallery show...yes, even in the fairytale land of Greece the last sprint before the semester's end is always a scramble. Yet the madness of finals week here was pleasantly sprinkled with some indescribable Grecian magic (and my own firm decision not to let school rule my life): mornings of chocolate waffles under the olive trees, long lazy afternoons at the beach sipping Breezers, evenings swinging on hammocks and painting grafitti on abandoned roofs, late nights swimming under the moon or dancing under the stars, longs walks by myself when I could fully enjoy the smells and sights of spring, and of course having amazingly fun times with all of the wonderful friends I have met here, shopping and eating and going out and laughing and doing all of the things girls do.
It has been a spectacular finale to a magnificent experience. On Saturday night we had our big art exhibition, the event we've been anticipating and building up to all semester...I got to show some of my work and take part in my first poetry reading which was nerve wracking but such a rewarding experience after all the hard work we've put in. There was a really great turn out, and afterwards we all went out dancing with the members of our rival art school here on Paros; a refreshing change from the odd Sharks/Jets tension we've had in the past. Last night some of my friends and I had a beach picnic at sunset, and I could think of no more enjoyable way to spend one of my last evenings than sipping Parian wine and nibbling dark Greek chocolate by the ocean with such good friends.
Today was a difficult day. Most of the girls here left, and it was so hard to bid farewell to those I've grown to care for as sisters. Watching that ferry pull away from the port as we waved from the big windmill was so sad and confusing. I went for a long walk and a swim at sunset, just thinking and feeling grateful for my time here. I am so sorry to leave, even far from ready, but at last I've said goodbye to my island. Home is calling me from across that horizon. Tomorrow we sail for Athens...goodbye dear Paros.
It has been a spectacular finale to a magnificent experience. On Saturday night we had our big art exhibition, the event we've been anticipating and building up to all semester...I got to show some of my work and take part in my first poetry reading which was nerve wracking but such a rewarding experience after all the hard work we've put in. There was a really great turn out, and afterwards we all went out dancing with the members of our rival art school here on Paros; a refreshing change from the odd Sharks/Jets tension we've had in the past. Last night some of my friends and I had a beach picnic at sunset, and I could think of no more enjoyable way to spend one of my last evenings than sipping Parian wine and nibbling dark Greek chocolate by the ocean with such good friends.
Today was a difficult day. Most of the girls here left, and it was so hard to bid farewell to those I've grown to care for as sisters. Watching that ferry pull away from the port as we waved from the big windmill was so sad and confusing. I went for a long walk and a swim at sunset, just thinking and feeling grateful for my time here. I am so sorry to leave, even far from ready, but at last I've said goodbye to my island. Home is calling me from across that horizon. Tomorrow we sail for Athens...goodbye dear Paros.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Rain on Your Wedding Day IRONIC
"The day cruise you'll never forget!!"
Such were the saccharinely cliche yet somehow foreboding words printed at the bottom of the boarding pass handed to me by the unwashed Greek man this early morning. [Was it really just this morning??] We began our soon-to-be epic voyage to the islands of Mykonos and Delos on a fairly routine note; gathering red-eyed and groggy by the bus station after an early wake up, munching on spinach pies and cheese croissants from our favoirte bakery and making our way across Paros to the port where our boat was waiting. Per usual, we were the last group on board, and as the concept of "maximum capacity" does not exist in the progressive nation of Greece, all of the actual seats were taken up by French tourists. We struggled through the crowds into the interior lounge, which resembled either a bad Chinese restaurant or a Golden Girls set gone wrong, and flopped ourselves in a tangled heap on the shaggy mauve carpet, ready for our journey to begin.
Or so we thought.
As we pulled out of the harbor, a few waves splashed their sparkly turquoise magic against the window, making all of us squeal in delight. The boat rocked a bit, amusement-park style, eliciting further squeals. Oh, we WERE naive the twits, weren't we???
The boat continued to rock, the waves continued to roll. We laughed.
A man in beige started handing out little white bags. We stopped laughing.
And thus we entered a hitherto unexplored circle of Dante's Inferno. Oh yes.
For nearly two hours, the waves and wind tossed our little cruiser like a sock in a washing machine. We tipped, turned, dipped, rolled; every possible motion was explored. I felt like I had been injected into a bad sequel for the Perfect Storm. My real problem wasn’t actually the motion so much as the second-hand effects of the motion on everyone else...erm... let’s just say that those little white bags weren’t just for show. Left and right, the carefully savored bakery goods from earlier found their way back into the light of day. Oh, the things I have seen, heard, and smelled. The French curses I have learned. The ways we have all contemplated filleting our serenely grinning professor. I retreated to the top deck for some fresh air only to discover a veritible splash zone dripping with more than sea water.
Yes, the slogan was accurate.“The day cruise you’ll never forget!!" continued to stare back at me mockingly from my poorly laminated red boarding pass. Curse you, irony.
Needless to say, when we disembarked on Delos, one of the most significant archaeological finds in Europe and a UNESCO world heritage site, all we cared about was sitting on the 2,500-year-old rocks to wait for the horizon to stop rocking. I sipped a Coke and picked poppies and half-heartedly listened to a guide ramble about ancient swimming pools. Even Mykonos Island with its picturesque harbor, yellow sand beaches, and waterfront bars did little to revive our drained (figuratively and literally) bodies.
On the way home, I loaded myself with Dramamine, slept like a drunken sailor, and am finally safe in the sanctity of my motionless apartment. Man, what a crazy final trip! Ah, well. That which does not kill you makes you stronger though, right? Or at the very least makes it unlikely that you’ll purchase expensive and fattening baked goods for awhile…
Such were the saccharinely cliche yet somehow foreboding words printed at the bottom of the boarding pass handed to me by the unwashed Greek man this early morning. [Was it really just this morning??] We began our soon-to-be epic voyage to the islands of Mykonos and Delos on a fairly routine note; gathering red-eyed and groggy by the bus station after an early wake up, munching on spinach pies and cheese croissants from our favoirte bakery and making our way across Paros to the port where our boat was waiting. Per usual, we were the last group on board, and as the concept of "maximum capacity" does not exist in the progressive nation of Greece, all of the actual seats were taken up by French tourists. We struggled through the crowds into the interior lounge, which resembled either a bad Chinese restaurant or a Golden Girls set gone wrong, and flopped ourselves in a tangled heap on the shaggy mauve carpet, ready for our journey to begin.
Or so we thought.
As we pulled out of the harbor, a few waves splashed their sparkly turquoise magic against the window, making all of us squeal in delight. The boat rocked a bit, amusement-park style, eliciting further squeals. Oh, we WERE naive the twits, weren't we???
The boat continued to rock, the waves continued to roll. We laughed.
A man in beige started handing out little white bags. We stopped laughing.
And thus we entered a hitherto unexplored circle of Dante's Inferno. Oh yes.
For nearly two hours, the waves and wind tossed our little cruiser like a sock in a washing machine. We tipped, turned, dipped, rolled; every possible motion was explored. I felt like I had been injected into a bad sequel for the Perfect Storm. My real problem wasn’t actually the motion so much as the second-hand effects of the motion on everyone else...erm... let’s just say that those little white bags weren’t just for show. Left and right, the carefully savored bakery goods from earlier found their way back into the light of day. Oh, the things I have seen, heard, and smelled. The French curses I have learned. The ways we have all contemplated filleting our serenely grinning professor. I retreated to the top deck for some fresh air only to discover a veritible splash zone dripping with more than sea water.
Yes, the slogan was accurate.“The day cruise you’ll never forget!!" continued to stare back at me mockingly from my poorly laminated red boarding pass. Curse you, irony.
Needless to say, when we disembarked on Delos, one of the most significant archaeological finds in Europe and a UNESCO world heritage site, all we cared about was sitting on the 2,500-year-old rocks to wait for the horizon to stop rocking. I sipped a Coke and picked poppies and half-heartedly listened to a guide ramble about ancient swimming pools. Even Mykonos Island with its picturesque harbor, yellow sand beaches, and waterfront bars did little to revive our drained (figuratively and literally) bodies.
On the way home, I loaded myself with Dramamine, slept like a drunken sailor, and am finally safe in the sanctity of my motionless apartment. Man, what a crazy final trip! Ah, well. That which does not kill you makes you stronger though, right? Or at the very least makes it unlikely that you’ll purchase expensive and fattening baked goods for awhile…
Monday, May 11, 2009
Discovering Atlantis
In the preceding months I have alternated between an intense desire to see the fabled volcanic island of Santorini and an equally potent gag reflex that surfaces every time one of the girls here giggles and references the filming location of Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants ----> "Like, OMG, it's going to be sooooo super cool and stuff." Cringe. Tourist trap.
Upon return to sunny Paros from a splendid weekend expedition I have this to say: SANTORINI GOES FAR BEYOND AWESOME. I can see why the film studio just had to bite the bullet of expense (it's a wickedly pricey location) and shoot their flick there; it has some of the most breathtaking views I've ever seen. And, in comparison with all of the other Greek islands I've seen, it is a unique natural treasure. (yeeeees, I'm aware that sounds like a terribly cliche and cheesy travel brochure, but its absolutely true).
For starters, as your boat pulls into the harbor of Fira, all you can see are cliff faces and the city built far above, silhouetted against the blue Mediterranean sky. You either have to walk up a series of killer stairs, take a donkey, ride their version of a ski lift, or attempt to traverse a scary winding road in one of their trusty rusty Greek buses. The adventure begins.
We spent Friday afternoon winding around the beautiful twilight streets and admiring postcard- perfect views. On Saturday we got up early and sleepily staggered down those aforementioned hundreds of steps in Fira to a waiting sailing ship that took us to the small uninhabited volcanic island in the middle of the caldera (Santorini is a big crescent moon shape; the interior being a collapsed volcanic crater that formed as a result of a HUGE eruption in the BC era -- thus the tales of Atlantis) and to a series of hotsprings where we got to lounge and paint ourselves tribal style with red oxidized mud. We went to another smaller satellite island for lunch, then headed to the town of Oia for some cliff jumping! Seriously. The Travelling Pants crew would have been proud. And so would have the Croc Hunter...I got some seriously crazy critter action when I stepped on a sea urchin (ooooh, bad karma) and had to yank its spines from my foot. OUCH.
We stayed in Oia for several hours after yet another trek up some massive stone stairs, waiting for the long-awaited world famous sunset which turned out to be perhaps the most colorful and spectacular sunset I've ever witnessed. As much affection as I have for Petoskey and its night time light show...Oia beat it. We went out for a night on the town under a full moon and danced until nearly sunrise. On Sunday after a not-quite-satisfying 3 hours of sleep, we trooped to the museum and attempted to absorb some history. Needless to say, the acres of identical pottery shards did little to resuscitate my tired legs. We finished our trip with gelatto and some shopping and cliff-side relaxation, then hopped the 4 hour ferry back to Paros.
It was a trip I'll never forget, and I really hope to go back someday. Touristy? Yes. I heard more English and saw more American pizza and bad Hawaiian shirts than I have during my entire time in Greece. Worth it? Absolutely. My verdict for Santorini is: best island destination yet. Aaaand quite possibly the lost civilization that Big Foot hunters hypothesize about. ;-)
Upon return to sunny Paros from a splendid weekend expedition I have this to say: SANTORINI GOES FAR BEYOND AWESOME. I can see why the film studio just had to bite the bullet of expense (it's a wickedly pricey location) and shoot their flick there; it has some of the most breathtaking views I've ever seen. And, in comparison with all of the other Greek islands I've seen, it is a unique natural treasure. (yeeeees, I'm aware that sounds like a terribly cliche and cheesy travel brochure, but its absolutely true).
For starters, as your boat pulls into the harbor of Fira, all you can see are cliff faces and the city built far above, silhouetted against the blue Mediterranean sky. You either have to walk up a series of killer stairs, take a donkey, ride their version of a ski lift, or attempt to traverse a scary winding road in one of their trusty rusty Greek buses. The adventure begins.
We spent Friday afternoon winding around the beautiful twilight streets and admiring postcard- perfect views. On Saturday we got up early and sleepily staggered down those aforementioned hundreds of steps in Fira to a waiting sailing ship that took us to the small uninhabited volcanic island in the middle of the caldera (Santorini is a big crescent moon shape; the interior being a collapsed volcanic crater that formed as a result of a HUGE eruption in the BC era -- thus the tales of Atlantis) and to a series of hotsprings where we got to lounge and paint ourselves tribal style with red oxidized mud. We went to another smaller satellite island for lunch, then headed to the town of Oia for some cliff jumping! Seriously. The Travelling Pants crew would have been proud. And so would have the Croc Hunter...I got some seriously crazy critter action when I stepped on a sea urchin (ooooh, bad karma) and had to yank its spines from my foot. OUCH.
We stayed in Oia for several hours after yet another trek up some massive stone stairs, waiting for the long-awaited world famous sunset which turned out to be perhaps the most colorful and spectacular sunset I've ever witnessed. As much affection as I have for Petoskey and its night time light show...Oia beat it. We went out for a night on the town under a full moon and danced until nearly sunrise. On Sunday after a not-quite-satisfying 3 hours of sleep, we trooped to the museum and attempted to absorb some history. Needless to say, the acres of identical pottery shards did little to resuscitate my tired legs. We finished our trip with gelatto and some shopping and cliff-side relaxation, then hopped the 4 hour ferry back to Paros.
It was a trip I'll never forget, and I really hope to go back someday. Touristy? Yes. I heard more English and saw more American pizza and bad Hawaiian shirts than I have during my entire time in Greece. Worth it? Absolutely. My verdict for Santorini is: best island destination yet. Aaaand quite possibly the lost civilization that Big Foot hunters hypothesize about. ;-)
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Mayday! Mayday! It's the post-May Day bleckies.
Bleck. Double bleck. I'm sick! How could this be?? A beautiful sunny Sunday on the island spent in bed sleeping. Perhaps it's simply the body's need for a thorough recharge? Or a paranoid bout of swine flu???? he he he.
Thus ends the weekend of May Day, a big holiday here in Greekland. No maypoles, but plenty of flowers and food and good times to be had. Yesterday my class took a trip to the neighboring island of Antiparos (yes, I love how the closest neighbor of Paros just snagged our name and stuck "Anti-" in front of it) where we went to a cool group of ancient ruins nestled in a pretty flower-carpeted valley to have a picnic. We got to pick poppies and daisies for May Day, and then went on a seriously amazing boat tour where we sailed into seacaves Pirates of the Caribbean-style and docked next to a white cliff face to jump off the deck into the Aegean. The water was shockingly turquoise and so clear that even though it was crazy amounts of deep you could see the sand on the bottom. I felt like I was living in a Carnival Cruise commercial.
After our blissful May Day frolicks and an evening of dancing, Greek wine, and chocolate chip cookies, I woke up feeling like I'd been struck by a truck. Or, more appropriately, trampled by a market donkey? Whatever. Hopefully after a day of immobility I'll feel right as rain -- we're taking a trip to the Daoist center tomorrow (and a Thai restaurant!) so I had BETTER feel better!!! I need me some spicy Asian noodles.
Thus ends the weekend of May Day, a big holiday here in Greekland. No maypoles, but plenty of flowers and food and good times to be had. Yesterday my class took a trip to the neighboring island of Antiparos (yes, I love how the closest neighbor of Paros just snagged our name and stuck "Anti-" in front of it) where we went to a cool group of ancient ruins nestled in a pretty flower-carpeted valley to have a picnic. We got to pick poppies and daisies for May Day, and then went on a seriously amazing boat tour where we sailed into seacaves Pirates of the Caribbean-style and docked next to a white cliff face to jump off the deck into the Aegean. The water was shockingly turquoise and so clear that even though it was crazy amounts of deep you could see the sand on the bottom. I felt like I was living in a Carnival Cruise commercial.
After our blissful May Day frolicks and an evening of dancing, Greek wine, and chocolate chip cookies, I woke up feeling like I'd been struck by a truck. Or, more appropriately, trampled by a market donkey? Whatever. Hopefully after a day of immobility I'll feel right as rain -- we're taking a trip to the Daoist center tomorrow (and a Thai restaurant!) so I had BETTER feel better!!! I need me some spicy Asian noodles.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Old Dreams Fulfilled, New Ones Formed
I know I’ve been neglecting my updates here, but for very good reason:
IRELAND.
I just got back the day before yesterday, and I’ve been recuperating from my travel adventures since then...sleeeeeeeep time! Despite a few confusing mishaps and an energy tank running on empty, let me tell you this: IT WAS AMAZING. Words cannot express what it feels like to finally have been able to step foot on the Emerald Isle – I’ve been waiting and hoping for so long, and even though I made a promise to myself that I would somehow get there during this semester in Europe, it felt so surreal to actually make it a reality.
A little rundown of my Irish exploits and “bucket list of life” checkmarks:
We spent a night and a day in London, which was a beautiful and vibrant city. Not Ireland, but still awesome. I got to stroll through Kensington gardens on a sunny day, pose by Big Ben, and nibble scones and tea on a red double-decker bus. Pip pip cheerio!
We then spent a week touring the fairytale land of Ireland; starting in Dublin. Temple Bar is one heck of a good time! Then a few days in gorgeous Galway with day trips to the Cliffs of Mohr, Bunratty Castle, and Connemarra, and a lovely Irish Catholic Easter service at midnight. Then a night in Cork and a day trip to Blarney to kiss the famous stone (yaaaay!), back to Dublin for three days of Irish boogie-woogie, then a final night back in jolly old England! This past week was fantastic and life-altering. The people were friendly and warm, the food delicious, the culture fabulous, the scenery breathtaking, the Irish boys to die for (he he!) and everything simply..... unbelievably.....wonderful. I just want to live there! Though Greece is truly fantastic and I returned to the warm sand and sunny skies of my beloved island, I cried when I had to leave Ireland. I'll be back someday.
What I learned this break:
1. First and foremost: I *heart* Ireland. It’s funny…I never quite knew whether the real thing would match my expectations, but it far surpassed my imaginings.
2. I am also in love with British currant scones. Delish.
3. Irish and British people think American accents are hot. So weird!!
4. I will never, EVER ride in a cab again. I've had several bad experiences, and the last one cost me 100 American dollars and a near nervous breakdown. Ick-city.
5. Irish rainbows really are magical
6. I continue to invariably attract Latin Americans even in Europe. So random.
7. The song "Jump Around" is even cooler danced to in an Irish pub setting.
8. American tea and chocolate suck big time.
9. They really DO paint everything green with shamrocks.
10. You can't buy Lucky Charms in Ireland. wtf??????
I loved it, end of story. To help me get over my leaving, I was greeted by a big, fat, marvelous Greek Easter complete with a ginormous feast, dancing on the rooftops, beach parties, etc. Life is sweet.
IRELAND.
I just got back the day before yesterday, and I’ve been recuperating from my travel adventures since then...sleeeeeeeep time! Despite a few confusing mishaps and an energy tank running on empty, let me tell you this: IT WAS AMAZING. Words cannot express what it feels like to finally have been able to step foot on the Emerald Isle – I’ve been waiting and hoping for so long, and even though I made a promise to myself that I would somehow get there during this semester in Europe, it felt so surreal to actually make it a reality.
A little rundown of my Irish exploits and “bucket list of life” checkmarks:
We spent a night and a day in London, which was a beautiful and vibrant city. Not Ireland, but still awesome. I got to stroll through Kensington gardens on a sunny day, pose by Big Ben, and nibble scones and tea on a red double-decker bus. Pip pip cheerio!
We then spent a week touring the fairytale land of Ireland; starting in Dublin. Temple Bar is one heck of a good time! Then a few days in gorgeous Galway with day trips to the Cliffs of Mohr, Bunratty Castle, and Connemarra, and a lovely Irish Catholic Easter service at midnight. Then a night in Cork and a day trip to Blarney to kiss the famous stone (yaaaay!), back to Dublin for three days of Irish boogie-woogie, then a final night back in jolly old England! This past week was fantastic and life-altering. The people were friendly and warm, the food delicious, the culture fabulous, the scenery breathtaking, the Irish boys to die for (he he!) and everything simply..... unbelievably.....wonderful. I just want to live there! Though Greece is truly fantastic and I returned to the warm sand and sunny skies of my beloved island, I cried when I had to leave Ireland. I'll be back someday.
What I learned this break:
1. First and foremost: I *heart* Ireland. It’s funny…I never quite knew whether the real thing would match my expectations, but it far surpassed my imaginings.
2. I am also in love with British currant scones. Delish.
3. Irish and British people think American accents are hot. So weird!!
4. I will never, EVER ride in a cab again. I've had several bad experiences, and the last one cost me 100 American dollars and a near nervous breakdown. Ick-city.
5. Irish rainbows really are magical
6. I continue to invariably attract Latin Americans even in Europe. So random.
7. The song "Jump Around" is even cooler danced to in an Irish pub setting.
8. American tea and chocolate suck big time.
9. They really DO paint everything green with shamrocks.
10. You can't buy Lucky Charms in Ireland. wtf??????
I loved it, end of story. To help me get over my leaving, I was greeted by a big, fat, marvelous Greek Easter complete with a ginormous feast, dancing on the rooftops, beach parties, etc. Life is sweet.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Of Moses and Madonna
I'm currently sitting on my bed, attempting to dry out my very wet feet and sorting out my mental to-do list after a very hectic (but fun!) weekend.
Friday witnessed the unique melding of Passover and a 1980's time warp party...yes, that is correct: I got to rock a side ponytail and RayBan shades after cramming my stomach full of homemade matzah and potato kugel. Fab.
I was very impressed with the Passover celebration itself (more than half of the students here are Jewish, so festivities seemed to be in order) since I've always wanted to see what it was all about, and the spread of traditional food and wine was fabulous. Then we all staged a massive Exodus circa 1987 and flooded the late nite Greek streets, dressed to the nines in spandex and neon and bad makeup and big hair and animal print. Oh, the poor confused locals...they stared at us like something right out of a Thriller video. I guess I can't blame them.
Crazy American students.
Then on Saturday we all shlumped out of bed after a maximum of four hours of sleep to hop the ferry to the neighboring island of Naxos. I'm usually a huge fan of boat rides, regardless of the wave factor, but that morning was not my favorite for obvious reasons. We all looked a bit green by the end of that voyage. We spent the day touring the island, visiting ancient ruins and churches and lots of really cool sites, including the temple of Demeter where we had a picnic lunch. By dinner, we attempted to fill the small culinary homesickness void growing in our hearts by sampling a Mexican restaurant -- note to self: Americans really DO know more about Mexican cuisine than people often mockingly assume. We stayed at a cute hotel in town and then spent Sunday site-seeing some more, visiting the museum, eating dessert waffles, etc.
It was a great weekend, but now I really must finish up all of my loose ends, in the homework, shopping, and packing departments, before tomorrow...I leave for Ireland in the morning!!!! Hooray!!!!!!!!!!!! It's like my mom wrote to me: "all your dreams are coming true."
Amen to that. Emerald Isle, here I come!
On that note, I leave to conspire and continue drying my feet. [yes it sometimes gets cold and rains here].....Ciao!
Friday witnessed the unique melding of Passover and a 1980's time warp party...yes, that is correct: I got to rock a side ponytail and RayBan shades after cramming my stomach full of homemade matzah and potato kugel. Fab.
I was very impressed with the Passover celebration itself (more than half of the students here are Jewish, so festivities seemed to be in order) since I've always wanted to see what it was all about, and the spread of traditional food and wine was fabulous. Then we all staged a massive Exodus circa 1987 and flooded the late nite Greek streets, dressed to the nines in spandex and neon and bad makeup and big hair and animal print. Oh, the poor confused locals...they stared at us like something right out of a Thriller video. I guess I can't blame them.
Crazy American students.
Then on Saturday we all shlumped out of bed after a maximum of four hours of sleep to hop the ferry to the neighboring island of Naxos. I'm usually a huge fan of boat rides, regardless of the wave factor, but that morning was not my favorite for obvious reasons. We all looked a bit green by the end of that voyage. We spent the day touring the island, visiting ancient ruins and churches and lots of really cool sites, including the temple of Demeter where we had a picnic lunch. By dinner, we attempted to fill the small culinary homesickness void growing in our hearts by sampling a Mexican restaurant -- note to self: Americans really DO know more about Mexican cuisine than people often mockingly assume. We stayed at a cute hotel in town and then spent Sunday site-seeing some more, visiting the museum, eating dessert waffles, etc.
It was a great weekend, but now I really must finish up all of my loose ends, in the homework, shopping, and packing departments, before tomorrow...I leave for Ireland in the morning!!!! Hooray!!!!!!!!!!!! It's like my mom wrote to me: "all your dreams are coming true."
Amen to that. Emerald Isle, here I come!
On that note, I leave to conspire and continue drying my feet. [yes it sometimes gets cold and rains here].....Ciao!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I GOT A SUNBURN...the first of many, many, MANY more to come, I'm sure. But it's okay! That mean's summer has officially arrived! And I can slide into my favorite sundress-and-sandal routine...yeeha! Although I do wish I had inherited my mom's skin...my sisters tan like sun goddesses, while I inevitably turn out looking like a boiled lobster.
Last night I sampled Greek pizza since I 've been craving Jet's so badly, which was entirely different but also entirely fabulous. Aaaand there was chocolate souffle. By the time all is said and done with this program, I will be the size of a hippo. That is, unless I continue to go on all of the optional historical hikes....I swear, my mild-looking, arsty-craftsy history professor is in reality a LandRover in human form. His mountain treks make me feel like I could star in a Kashi commercial: "Seven Whole Grains, on a Mission." (Sidenote, Kashi cereal is also going on my list of things I will fervently indulge in upon my stateside return).
On an oober creepy note, some random guy (or guys?) have been wandering into girls' rooms here late at night. Sketchy much? And I had over 100 Euro stolen from my room, although we're not sure that it's related to the late-nite creepsters. Grrr...after all my careful Scrooge-like saving! We've essentially been told that the wandering guys are probably nothing to worry about...just some tipsy but harmless Greek men looking for American beauties. Pfft. Sexual harassment may not exist as a concept here, but it still weirds me out.
That really is the only borderline-scary incident though...usually the attempts at guy-girl connection here are just bizarre, mildly irritating, or downright hilarious. Yesterday my friend and I had a laughing fit after this guy called us "his beautiful little cherries" and clearly thought he was the smoothest guy alive for doing so. Ah, Greek men and their sorry conceptions about American girls...sure serves as some good substance for laughs, though!
Last night I sampled Greek pizza since I 've been craving Jet's so badly, which was entirely different but also entirely fabulous. Aaaand there was chocolate souffle. By the time all is said and done with this program, I will be the size of a hippo. That is, unless I continue to go on all of the optional historical hikes....I swear, my mild-looking, arsty-craftsy history professor is in reality a LandRover in human form. His mountain treks make me feel like I could star in a Kashi commercial: "Seven Whole Grains, on a Mission." (Sidenote, Kashi cereal is also going on my list of things I will fervently indulge in upon my stateside return).
On an oober creepy note, some random guy (or guys?) have been wandering into girls' rooms here late at night. Sketchy much? And I had over 100 Euro stolen from my room, although we're not sure that it's related to the late-nite creepsters. Grrr...after all my careful Scrooge-like saving! We've essentially been told that the wandering guys are probably nothing to worry about...just some tipsy but harmless Greek men looking for American beauties. Pfft. Sexual harassment may not exist as a concept here, but it still weirds me out.
That really is the only borderline-scary incident though...usually the attempts at guy-girl connection here are just bizarre, mildly irritating, or downright hilarious. Yesterday my friend and I had a laughing fit after this guy called us "his beautiful little cherries" and clearly thought he was the smoothest guy alive for doing so. Ah, Greek men and their sorry conceptions about American girls...sure serves as some good substance for laughs, though!
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Tourist!
My gosh, Sunday again??? Time is just breezing past. Paros is beginning to feel so familiar, but new things catch me by surprise every day. I'm trying to soak it all in, savor each moment and new discovery, 'cause I know time is going to keep ticking by.
(Kazoo intro) Doo doo dee doo: Lindsey's List of WEEK THREE Cultural Interactions and Observations:
1. Black is the new pink, the new yellow, the new, well, everything. Everyone wears black here -- everywhere, all the time, no funeral needed. I thought it would change as the weather warmed up, but I still manage to stand out like a carrot in a candy shop with my crazy tropical color scheme.
2. Greek children in large groups like to heckle Americans. A lot. A big tribe of elementary schoolers followed some friends and I along the beach, pointing, laughing, and yelling "tourists! tourists! tooooooourists!!" while making rude gestures. I half expected them to start hurling rocks...maybe I should buy more black and try the blending method?
3. The bizarre and unfounded association of my face with Jodie Foster transcends cultures and crosses oceans. Twice this week random Greek strangers have pointed at me from afar and yelled that very name...guess Silence of the Lambs is a cultural universal?
4. St. Patrick's Day is not really celebrated in Greece. SAD!!! It's only the best holiday ever!! But I DID book my tickets for my spring break Ireland excursion, so all will be well once my feet hit the Emerald Isle. Can you say Dublin par-tay? Yeeeee-ha!
5. Apparently I missed the memo about needing rock-climbing/base-jumping/wall-scaling comic book hero experience to attend this school...our most recent hike almost led to this here clumsy girl's painful death. But, truth be told, it was so worth it, the view was out of this world. :-)
A storm's coming now, I can hear the thunder coming over the mountains. Maybe we'll have a true tropical gale, Gilligan's Island style...yup, here comes the rain!!
(Kazoo intro) Doo doo dee doo: Lindsey's List of WEEK THREE Cultural Interactions and Observations:
1. Black is the new pink, the new yellow, the new, well, everything. Everyone wears black here -- everywhere, all the time, no funeral needed. I thought it would change as the weather warmed up, but I still manage to stand out like a carrot in a candy shop with my crazy tropical color scheme.
2. Greek children in large groups like to heckle Americans. A lot. A big tribe of elementary schoolers followed some friends and I along the beach, pointing, laughing, and yelling "tourists! tourists! tooooooourists!!" while making rude gestures. I half expected them to start hurling rocks...maybe I should buy more black and try the blending method?
3. The bizarre and unfounded association of my face with Jodie Foster transcends cultures and crosses oceans. Twice this week random Greek strangers have pointed at me from afar and yelled that very name...guess Silence of the Lambs is a cultural universal?
4. St. Patrick's Day is not really celebrated in Greece. SAD!!! It's only the best holiday ever!! But I DID book my tickets for my spring break Ireland excursion, so all will be well once my feet hit the Emerald Isle. Can you say Dublin par-tay? Yeeeee-ha!
5. Apparently I missed the memo about needing rock-climbing/base-jumping/wall-scaling comic book hero experience to attend this school...our most recent hike almost led to this here clumsy girl's painful death. But, truth be told, it was so worth it, the view was out of this world. :-)
A storm's coming now, I can hear the thunder coming over the mountains. Maybe we'll have a true tropical gale, Gilligan's Island style...yup, here comes the rain!!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Fruitti Tutti
www.foodreference.com has this to say: QUINCE FRUIT ~ In the raw form, the rind is rough and woolly, and the flesh is hard and unpalatable, with an astringent, acidulous taste. How the heck was I supposed to know this?? It looked cool at the farmer's market, all label-less, sitting there so knobbly and golden-yellow (and I love experimenting with foreign fruit, much safer than meat or cheese, or so I thought....) but let me tell you, the taste and texture are most definitely NOT friends to mankind. Blech. The fragrance is muy bien though.
On another far less irksome note I continue experiencing the generosity of the Greek island people. While on a walk along the shorefront I passed a couple of adorable old men selling oranges out of their truck. One of them waved me over and started putting oranges in my hands while chattering in Greek. I said that they were beautiful (and believe me, they were! yummay!) and asked how much, and he just shook his head. I asked again and he said "no monies, no monies," -- they were just a nice gift to a passing stranger! I *heart* Greece.
On another far less irksome note I continue experiencing the generosity of the Greek island people. While on a walk along the shorefront I passed a couple of adorable old men selling oranges out of their truck. One of them waved me over and started putting oranges in my hands while chattering in Greek. I said that they were beautiful (and believe me, they were! yummay!) and asked how much, and he just shook his head. I asked again and he said "no monies, no monies," -- they were just a nice gift to a passing stranger! I *heart* Greece.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
El Fin de Week Numero Dos
Another lovely close to another lovely week. This island, this country, this culture…almost beginning to feel like a new home. Except for the plumbing. Man, do I miss those good old American showers and toilets. Oh, and the U.S.A.’s relative lack of creepy gawking men who somehow avoid successful hygiene. Maybe even the locals get frustrated with Greek plumbing? Other than that…I’m finding the adjustment easier than expected.
Developments this second week:
I’ve finally run the gamut of my classes, and it should be a good exercise in self-motivation but at the same time a needed break from my typical tightly-scheduled existence. Go with the flow, right? My professors could comprise the cast of their own Paros-ian reality television show...quite the range of idiosyncrasies. I’m sure I’ll have a novel’s worth of stories once the semester’s through.
I’ve been soaking in the scenery, enjoying the peace of the island before tourist season starts, experimenting with my [almost nonexistent] culinary skills, exploring, learning that free wine should absolutely NOT be over-indulged in, and attempting to navigate the sea of dizzyingly unfamiliar cultural quirks. I learned the hard way that showing your palm to someone here is the rough equivalent of the middle finger in the states…it’s so hard to break the habit of a friendly wave! Blah! But I LOVE the laidback nature of Mediterranean living…seriously, we need to instigate a siesta session in the U.S. It could put an end to stress-linked heart attacks I tell you!
Yesterday we hiked into the mountains to one of my prof’s houses. I can’t even begin to tell you how pretty it was – wildflowers of every color and description covering the terraced hills, little houses and little farms, the smell of sage and thyme in the air, and the sea far below but never out of sight…I felt like breaking into a spontaneous Sound of Music chorus!! And I did, much to the confusion of my classmates. Yeah, call me a dork, but I’m one HAPPY dork. Plus I got in a bit of exercise to counteract the pounds acquired through Nutella and spinach/feta pastries.
Well, I should go check on my stir-fry concoction. I pray for the patience and sanity of my future husband and/or children since my kitchen mastery is definitely lacking. Cheerio!
Developments this second week:
I’ve finally run the gamut of my classes, and it should be a good exercise in self-motivation but at the same time a needed break from my typical tightly-scheduled existence. Go with the flow, right? My professors could comprise the cast of their own Paros-ian reality television show...quite the range of idiosyncrasies. I’m sure I’ll have a novel’s worth of stories once the semester’s through.
I’ve been soaking in the scenery, enjoying the peace of the island before tourist season starts, experimenting with my [almost nonexistent] culinary skills, exploring, learning that free wine should absolutely NOT be over-indulged in, and attempting to navigate the sea of dizzyingly unfamiliar cultural quirks. I learned the hard way that showing your palm to someone here is the rough equivalent of the middle finger in the states…it’s so hard to break the habit of a friendly wave! Blah! But I LOVE the laidback nature of Mediterranean living…seriously, we need to instigate a siesta session in the U.S. It could put an end to stress-linked heart attacks I tell you!
Yesterday we hiked into the mountains to one of my prof’s houses. I can’t even begin to tell you how pretty it was – wildflowers of every color and description covering the terraced hills, little houses and little farms, the smell of sage and thyme in the air, and the sea far below but never out of sight…I felt like breaking into a spontaneous Sound of Music chorus!! And I did, much to the confusion of my classmates. Yeah, call me a dork, but I’m one HAPPY dork. Plus I got in a bit of exercise to counteract the pounds acquired through Nutella and spinach/feta pastries.
Well, I should go check on my stir-fry concoction. I pray for the patience and sanity of my future husband and/or children since my kitchen mastery is definitely lacking. Cheerio!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Sundae
So, Sunday, Sunday. I went to the first Greek Orthodox mass of my life this morning...very cool. Very strange/massively disorienting, but beautiful and awesome. Lots of chanting, candle-lighting, incense, people cycling in and out of the church at odd times...and I never did get communion since I couldn't figure out when or how to go up...but regardless both the building and the service were lovely.
We went on a tour of the island this afternoon; it was soooo green it reminded me of photos of Ireland. (But then, what doesn't bring my brain back to Ireland, let's be honest). Terraced hillsides, olive groves, fields of purple and yellow wildflowers, pastures with wooly lambs, goats, and cows (yes, even the cows looked wooly!), cliffside beaches, and everywhere the characteristic white and blue houses...darn it, why didn't I manage to squeeze my colored pencils or watercolor paints into my massive pile-o-luggage??? What I wouldn't do for a good pack of Crayolas right about now. :-P Or a chocolate sundae for that matter.
We went on a tour of the island this afternoon; it was soooo green it reminded me of photos of Ireland. (But then, what doesn't bring my brain back to Ireland, let's be honest). Terraced hillsides, olive groves, fields of purple and yellow wildflowers, pastures with wooly lambs, goats, and cows (yes, even the cows looked wooly!), cliffside beaches, and everywhere the characteristic white and blue houses...darn it, why didn't I manage to squeeze my colored pencils or watercolor paints into my massive pile-o-luggage??? What I wouldn't do for a good pack of Crayolas right about now. :-P Or a chocolate sundae for that matter.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Week Numero Uno!
Ciao, ducklings! Due to popular demand I have decided to keep a travel blog cataloguing my spiffy adventures here in the isles of Greece. We’ll see how faithful I actually am about sticking to it…but I will definitely make a solid attempt.
So…the good stuff! It’s nearing the end of my first week in Greece, and it definitely has been a major shift from snowy little P-town. My circadian rhythm has me doing cartwheels at 3 am and longing for a solid 6 hour nap at noon. (We’re 7 hours ahead of U.S. Eastern time). But the 65 degree weather, sunshine, and SPECTACULAR scenery makes the biological havoc well worth it. Oh yeah, and the food. Let me tell you, you have just never tasted real yogurt my friend. Or honey. Or citrus fruit. It truly is the food of the gods here.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, Greece is truly mah-velous. My journey over was a bit nutty; plenty of airport drama. Ever run through London Heathrow at full tilt knowing your plane is about to leave? But I do love British airways…NorthWest could take a page out of their book. I got fed all the time (I might as well fess up to the fact that I’m totally food motivated) and offered tea every ½ hour by adorable English stewardesses…too cute. I was supposed to sleep the whole way but that wasn’t happening with my personal tv stocked with an arsenal of unreleased films as well as a collection of classics. I got my Bond fix while crossing the Atlantic, he he!
Athens was crazy. In both good and bad ways. The bus ride to downtown and the subsequent urban navigation to find my hostel was nerve-wracking to say the least, but it saved me a 75 dollar taxi charge. The city itself is….hmmm….a weird mix of litter, designer fashion shops, graffiti, olive trees, modern highrises, the occasional random ancient ruin, beautiful winding streets in the old town, old orthodox churches….very cool. On the first day after I checked in there was no one from my group around so I decided to explore on my own. Which rocked, until it started getting dark and I realized I was hopelessly lost. Yeah. Fortunately, my obvious pathetic blonde American-ness elicited the help of this random Egyptian guy who spoke some form of basic English. I half suspected as he led me for a solid 45 minutes through unfamiliar streets that he wanted to sell me into a human trafficking ring but my parent-infused suspicions proved unfounded; he brought me right back to my hostel. (I’ve found people here are very nice in general). Later I went to the Acropolis which was beyond amazing, and some other excellent touristy sites. Super!
After two days in Athens, I came to Paros via a ginormous ferryboat. It’s one heck of a sight to see the island approach, all white marble and whitewashed homes and white sand (yeah, they like their white here!) contrasted against the very blue Mediterranean. Breathtaking. Right now, Paros is pretty quiet. Tourist season doesn’t start for another couple months and the real high season (i.e. the months of insane drunken dancing tourist mass shenanigans) happens after we leave. It’s so beautiful here, I can’t believe it’s really happening…my home until June. I’ll talk more about Paros later…this post is getting très long. A pet peeve. A pet peeve, mind you, that I may be guilty of a lot in the near future.
To sum up my first impressions of Greece:
1. Fabulous. Just fabulous.
2. I decided I am going to file a formal complaint against Michigan winters. I just love me my sunshine and warmth.
3. I’m going to miss American plumbing, I’ll be honest.
4. Milo Ventimiglia is NOT the average male Greek look. Sadly. Of course, my exposure thus far is limited, so this may be revised.
5. I may need to dye my hair black to avoid unwanted staring
6. Greek food = bliss
7. Greek pop music = hilarious. As is the way Greek guys blare their car radios with such obvious pride.
8. The Greek alphabet = wacky symbols font times 10.
9. I'm in love with the ocean. The smell, the sight, the sound, the whole kit-n-kaboodle.
10. This is going to be a true adventure. :-)
So…the good stuff! It’s nearing the end of my first week in Greece, and it definitely has been a major shift from snowy little P-town. My circadian rhythm has me doing cartwheels at 3 am and longing for a solid 6 hour nap at noon. (We’re 7 hours ahead of U.S. Eastern time). But the 65 degree weather, sunshine, and SPECTACULAR scenery makes the biological havoc well worth it. Oh yeah, and the food. Let me tell you, you have just never tasted real yogurt my friend. Or honey. Or citrus fruit. It truly is the food of the gods here.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, Greece is truly mah-velous. My journey over was a bit nutty; plenty of airport drama. Ever run through London Heathrow at full tilt knowing your plane is about to leave? But I do love British airways…NorthWest could take a page out of their book. I got fed all the time (I might as well fess up to the fact that I’m totally food motivated) and offered tea every ½ hour by adorable English stewardesses…too cute. I was supposed to sleep the whole way but that wasn’t happening with my personal tv stocked with an arsenal of unreleased films as well as a collection of classics. I got my Bond fix while crossing the Atlantic, he he!
Athens was crazy. In both good and bad ways. The bus ride to downtown and the subsequent urban navigation to find my hostel was nerve-wracking to say the least, but it saved me a 75 dollar taxi charge. The city itself is….hmmm….a weird mix of litter, designer fashion shops, graffiti, olive trees, modern highrises, the occasional random ancient ruin, beautiful winding streets in the old town, old orthodox churches….very cool. On the first day after I checked in there was no one from my group around so I decided to explore on my own. Which rocked, until it started getting dark and I realized I was hopelessly lost. Yeah. Fortunately, my obvious pathetic blonde American-ness elicited the help of this random Egyptian guy who spoke some form of basic English. I half suspected as he led me for a solid 45 minutes through unfamiliar streets that he wanted to sell me into a human trafficking ring but my parent-infused suspicions proved unfounded; he brought me right back to my hostel. (I’ve found people here are very nice in general). Later I went to the Acropolis which was beyond amazing, and some other excellent touristy sites. Super!
After two days in Athens, I came to Paros via a ginormous ferryboat. It’s one heck of a sight to see the island approach, all white marble and whitewashed homes and white sand (yeah, they like their white here!) contrasted against the very blue Mediterranean. Breathtaking. Right now, Paros is pretty quiet. Tourist season doesn’t start for another couple months and the real high season (i.e. the months of insane drunken dancing tourist mass shenanigans) happens after we leave. It’s so beautiful here, I can’t believe it’s really happening…my home until June. I’ll talk more about Paros later…this post is getting très long. A pet peeve. A pet peeve, mind you, that I may be guilty of a lot in the near future.
To sum up my first impressions of Greece:
1. Fabulous. Just fabulous.
2. I decided I am going to file a formal complaint against Michigan winters. I just love me my sunshine and warmth.
3. I’m going to miss American plumbing, I’ll be honest.
4. Milo Ventimiglia is NOT the average male Greek look. Sadly. Of course, my exposure thus far is limited, so this may be revised.
5. I may need to dye my hair black to avoid unwanted staring
6. Greek food = bliss
7. Greek pop music = hilarious. As is the way Greek guys blare their car radios with such obvious pride.
8. The Greek alphabet = wacky symbols font times 10.
9. I'm in love with the ocean. The smell, the sight, the sound, the whole kit-n-kaboodle.
10. This is going to be a true adventure. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
