The Lada Cats

Nap Time.
I wish I looked this adorable asleep!

Have I mentioned yet how many cats there are in this country?  Greece has more cats than I have ever seen, and they roam at will through Athens, and even Hydra, the island that we visited.  They stare at me pitifully when I eat in cafes, and I trip over them in the dark when I am doing laundry.  Stray cats and dogs seem to simply be a normal part of life here; stray dogs are even given rabies shots!  While many of them are thinner than our plump house pets, most of them appear to be able to make it on their own.  I, however, cannot resist feeding the little family of cats that have adopted Ladas, much to the chagrin of my two cat-allergic roommates.

Siblings
They fight like it, too!

A note on the inside of one of our kitchen cabinets refers to a female tabby that the Teaching Fellows of 2008-2009 named Claya and looked after during their stay two years ago, and I can't help but think that this is the cat that hangs around our house.  Unlike the other stray cats on campus, Claya is not as skittish around people and will let me pet her.  She also has two adorable gray and white kittens (who, unfortunately, will not let me pet them.  I've only been able to touch them by catching them unawares.)  I really want to call one of them Muffin, but they're actually very fierce little beasties.  One of them even attacked my bare toe, thinking it was part of the egg that I was feeding them!
Here is a picture of the whole cat family.  How can anyone resist something so cute?

My Latest Adventure

Sometimes, in a foreign country, you don't have to take a trip to have an adventure.  Sometimes, you can have an adventure right in your own home.  Take, for example, my latest adventure: my first attempt at baking in the Ladas kitchen.  It has taken me this long (over three weeks!) to accumulate the materials that I needed - I downgraded my recipe from my favorite pound cake to a simpler batch of thumbprint cookies.  I made the recipe without the vanilla extract that it calls for because I haven't been able to find it.  The green bottle is what I took to be a good guess at vanilla in the store.  Don't those look like vanilla flowers on the label?  Anyway, when I got it home and smelled it, it was definitely not vanilla.  In fact, it smells kind of like that mastiha that I tasted at the restaurant.  Not going in the cookies.

Take a look at the small bags of sugar and flour that I found - that's my hand in the picture for comparison.  They are 1 kg apiece, and that's apparently as big as they come! I bought a pizza pan in lieu of a cookie sheet because neither the AB nor the Carrefour seems to carry them.  They have bread pans, roast pans, bundt pans, but no cookie sheets.  Seriously?  It's not like I'm looking for a specialized piece of equipment, here... And I've seen cookies in the bake shops.  What do they cook them on?  In the checkout line with my pizza pan I also realized that I wasn't sure if we had a mixing bowl.  We didn't.  I ended up using a combination of a salad bowl, a rectangular tupperware, and a soup kettle.  (The salad bowl was too shallow, resulting in flying globules of sugared butter.  I then transferred the dry ingredients from the soup kettle that they were in to the tupperware so that I could use the soup kettle for the mixing.  Problem solved.)

The batter was delicious.  I give credit to the Danish butter, which I purchased because it was one of the few kinds that was not spreadable (and that the sample lady wasn't blocking at the time.  You know how sample people can kind of scare you?  Trust me, it's even worse if they speak another language.)  I loaded up the pizza pan with balls of dough, and Eleni, who was also home at the time, put in the jam.  In they went into the stoven.  What is a stoven, you ask?  Behold the photograph.  Remember the episode of How I Met Your Mother when Lily gets her own apartment and the fridge, sink, etc. are connected?  Well, the stoven is kind of like that - an  oven and a stove, all in one - two eyes on top and a convection oven on bottom; we have three of them in Ladas.  Since it's a convection oven, the cookies were done in about half the time, so I charred the first batch.  The second and third batches (minus snackage) are pictured below.  They have a slightly more shortbread-y taste here than they did when I made them in my campus apartment, whether its due to the convection oven or the Danish butter.  Either way, they are delicious.  But that pound cake may have to wait a while... 

Greek Target

On Monday I made my pilgrimage to the Greek Target, more commonly known as Carrefour.  Situated in a stone building past Halandri on the bus route, it looked very little like my beloved red-dot boutique.  After some browsing, I back-tracked to find something to hold my selections and decide on a basket when I see that, predictably, the carts require a 1 euro coin.  I mentally recall my list as I compare straighteners and curling irons to replace the one that I fried by using the wrong voltage setting.  I search in vain for a foldable hamper - all of the ones here look like plastic trash cans with lids.  I wonder why Carrefour stocks 3M picture-hanging strips but no plastic hooks.  And why are so many of the baskets  round?  Isn't that a terrible use of space?  But, apparently, these are laundry tubs used for washing delicates.  I also wonder where people in the checkout lines are getting the food.  I found a bag of flour on special (a tiny bag of flour - do these people not bake?), but I am at a loss as to where I am missing the groceries.  (I find out later that the Carrefour has more than one floor, just like the AB, our nearby grocery store.)
The hard part comes after the shopping is done - getting everything home. Shopping without a car to lug everything home in is very different.  As I carried my storage baskets, bag, and bulletin board out to the curb, I noticed another customer hooking his plastic Carrefour bags to a nifty little hook in front of the seat of his motorcycle.  Some Greeks also have handcarts that they use for groceries.  On the bus ride home, a nice little old Greek woman offered me her seat on the bus (in Greek, of course, with gesturing to get the point across.)  Though I tried to refuse, she stubbornly got up and moved to a seat further back in the bus.  Thank you, little Greek woman.
At my bus stop, I began the long walk back to campus.  I chose not to wait for the #19 bus outside of the Carrefour (which stops closest to campus) and instead chose another bus, so I've added quite a bit of walking to my route.  I only drop something once on the way home, however, and I'm quite proud of my awkward progress.  Plus, my bulletin board looks awesome on my bedroom wall, even more so because of all of the effort that went into getting it there!

My bulletin board,
complete with English class schedule and new hat.

School Days

Ahh, the first day of school.  Was it You've Got Mail that mentioned "bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils"?  Well, okay, technically this is the second day of the school year, and I don't use pencils (I even forgot my pen this morning - oops!), but it is my first day in a classroom, so it counts.  Thanks to building construction, the campus hasn't really gotten any noisier, but the construction noise is now augmented by hundreds of students, and the craziness of the first week of school prevails.  But sitting on my back porch, surrounded by trees, the noise is muffled, and I can steal an hour to talk about my "first" day of school.
Yesterday I spent doing mostly clerical work in the college counseling office, but today I joined the English teachers of Psychico College bright and early in their conference room.  As they hurriedly drank coffee, ate breakfast, and sorted out schedules in a mix of English and Greek (sometimes even in the same sentence), I reflected on how much I love the culture behind education (even if, this time, I only understand half of it).  I was reminded of the (many) days I spent in the Math Department office of my high school, listening to the teachers converse among themselves, outside of the classroom.  But the idea that I am a teacher - now that one I'm not quite used to!
I realized that I am still fully in the student mindset when I introduced myself to a class full of 7th graders by my first name.  Miss York - now when did I grow up?  But it was standing in front of this class, telling them to be quiet, talking about what I should do while I'm in Greece that I thought - hey, I can do this.  And I even enjoy it!  I'm new to the language, the country, the school - even to teaching.  So I'm either crazy or courageous, but I'm off to quite a start.

The Benakio building, which houses the lykeion (high school, grades 10-12)
of Athens and Psychico Colleges. Thanks to last year's fellow, Chris Duffy, of
"The Daily Feta" at http://thedailyfeta.blogspot.com - b/c I stole your photo.

Starbucks Time

After failing to catch a bus for 10 minutes (is the 19 even running today? it is a Sunday, after all...) I caved and walked across the street to Starbucks.  After almost 2 weeks in Greece, the longest I've ever spent in a  foreign country, I nearly sighed with relief after stepping into the familiarity of Starbucks.  Perhaps it is wrong for a mega-chain to represent home to me, but with the taste of a caramel macchiato on my tongue and American music on the speakers, I can't regret it.
Like at the Mexican restaurant earlier this week, it seems strange to be greeted in Greek at a Starbucks, and a perverse part of me refused to speak more than one word that wasn't English in my American escape.  Thankfully, my barista spoke excellent English.  The Greek Starbucks even has a few improvements over its American counterparts - the food, for one.  I chose a butter croissant, but have you ever, for example, seen an American Starbucks with beautiful coffee-flavored macarons?  The coffee for patrons that decide to drink it in house is served in a mug.  The coffee here is even more horrendously overpriced than in a Starbucks at home, but it's worth it to feel comfortable for one of the first times since I've been in this country.  To sit, sip coffee, and not worry that someone won't understand you, that you'll get lost or miss a bus, that you are an outsider.  I hope that I won't grow to haunt the Starbucks - even now I can see myself lesson-planning, listening to the soothing American music - but it's nice to know that it's here.  The patrons sitting at a table nearby are discussing something in Greek, but here, I can imagine that they are the foreigners.

Things I've Learned in Greece

1. The Heel-Toe Express
Coming from a suburban area, the idea of walking anywhere (other than for exercise) is unusual.  Here, you walk... and walk... and walk.  After only a few days, my legs hurt from the unaccustomed use!  The public transportation is fantastic - except, of course, when they are on strike - but even the distance from the nearest bus stop to campus is a 10 minute walk, plus another 10 minutes from the front of campus to Ladas House.  I believe that this exercise calls for more gyro consumption.

2. Water, Water, Everywhere - and Every Drop You Drink
As you probably know, it gets hot in Athens, and not having air conditioning is common.  Neither our on-campus housing nor the school have air conditioning, and even the buildings in Greece which do have it (retail, for example), don't keep it at the arctic temperatures of American stores.  So, you're going to be drinking a lot of water.  Luckily, we can drink the out-of-faucet water in Ladas, but most of the water that you purchase in Greece is going to come in a bottle - even if you get it at a restaurant - and all of the drinkable water on the islands comes this way.  The tap water is also very soft water; I haven't yet figured out how to counteract the strange things that it does to my hair.

3. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
...and in your hair, your clothes.  Forget the restaurant smoking ban that I had enjoyed in Memphis.  Here, the joke is that a Greek breakfast is coffee and a cigarette, and nearly everyone smokes.  Reconcile yourself to the fact that you may have to shower before and after going to dinner, and buy a bottle of Febreze for your wardrobe.

4. Loos of Last Resort
One of the fellows found this term in a travel guide of Greece, and I couldn't resist using it.  The "loos" that I have seen in Greece are surprisingly nice.  But don't flush the paper!  Luckily, this is not a rule that we have to remember in Ladas.

5. Relax - You're in Greece
Everyone takes a decidedly relaxed approach to, well, everything.  Dinner can take well over two hours in the traditional, laid-back atmosphere of a taverna.  Schedules change, and nobody worries about having things accomplished right away.  The only people who seem to be in a hurry are the drivers, and they drive as if their life depended on shaving a few extra seconds off of their commute time.

Photojournal of the Acropolis, Continued

The last post got tired of my endless rearranging of photos and decided not to oblige my whims anymore, so I will finish the trip sequence in this one!

My hat.  Hmm... think I'll keep looking.

Have you ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding?
If so, you'll know why this is so funny!

Apparently it's customary at a Greek restaurant
to bring a drink at the end of the meal. This is my first
try of mastiha.  It does, as Mandee pointed out,
 smell like pine trees.  Unfortunately, it tastes like
them too, and it has the consistency of glycerin.
At least the strawberry was good.

We had lunch at the Chocolat cafe.
Not only was the food delicious,
but we sat outside with an amazing view
of the Acropolis.

Photojournal of the Acropolis

Forgive my brevity with this post, but we just got back from a lovely weekend in Hydra (an island off of Greece), and I have some catching up I need to do with my posting!  Here is a photojournal of our Friday trip to the Acropolis Museum.

The Acropolis Museum
We weren't allowed to take pictures inside -
I wasn't risking it, 'cause I've heard that Greek
museum guards take their jobs very seriously!

My first time on the Greek metro -
here is our metro stop at the Acropolis.

Walkway outside the museum.
We could see through the glass we were
standing on right down to the ruins!

Acropolis
We didn't climb up when we visited, but
I have a feeling I'll be back.

I actually am not sure what this is...
but as Mandee (teaching fellow) would say
"Ruins!"

Part of a mosaic from a Roman house.

Shopping near the Acropolis -
Mandee in her fabulous hat.

Shoes!  Robyn and Mandee.

Going French

Le Petit Fleur

You know you're in Greece when it's so hot that the Toblerone bar in your room has turned into soft fudge.  Air conditioning is apparently for tourists - even the school doesn't have air conditioning, and it is the most elite private school in Athens!  Today, with a good night's sleep to off-set my 30 hours awake (minus a nap on my flight from Munich), I had a chance to see some of Athens while fully conscious.  Dinner on my first night was delicious, but Athens when I'm awake is even better.  Chris, one of last year's fellows and our current guide to all things Athens, introduced us to a small coffee shop in Halandri called Le Petit Fleur.  With a pleasantly old-fashioned feel and a soundtrack of French records, I was delighted with this cafe.  The sugar cubes on the table came in clover and heart shapes.And, of course, there is the coffee.  Yani, the proprietor, is on a first-name basis with Chris, who is a regular there; Yani joked that Le Petit Fleur had become the cafe for the Teaching Fellows.  Luckily, he speaks English, because the menu was all in Greek!  Wanting something cold - I couldn't imagine drinking hot coffee in this heat - Yani suggested an iced cappucino, and I opted for the unique version he described called the Cappuccino Fleur.  This coffee came in a tall, pretty glass and was laced with orange peel and cinnamon; I ordered it "glyko," or sweet - which, with my southern sweet tooth, wasn't really that sweet!  It was, however, delicious, and came with little coconut and cinnamon cookies, like shortbread.  What a pleasant way to spend an afternoon in Greece.