Oxi Day

Oxi Day as defined by our friendly Wikipedia:

"Ohi Day (also spelled Ochi Day, Greek: Επέτειος του «'Οχι» Epeteios tou "'Ohi", Anniversary of the "No") is celebrated throughout Greece,Cyprus and the Greek communities around the world on October 28 each year, to commemorate Greek Prime Minister Ioannis Metaxas' (in power from August 4, 1936, until January 29, 1941) rejection of the ultimatum made by Italian dictator Benito Mussolini on October 28, 1940.

This ultimatum, which was presented to Metaxas by the Italian ambassador in Greece, Emanuele Grazzi, on October 28, 1940, at dawn (04:00 am), after a party in the German embassy in Athens, demanded that Greece allow Axis forces to enter Greek territory and occupy certain unspecified "strategic locations" or otherwise face war. It was allegedly answered with a single laconic word: όχι or no. In response to Metaxas's refusal, Italian troops stationed in Albania, then an Italian protectorate, attacked the Greek border at 05:30 am. Metaxas's reply marked the beginning of Greece's participation in World War II (see Greco-Italian War and Battle of Greece).

On the morning of October 28 the Greek population took to the streets, irrespective of political affiliation, shouting 'ohi'. From 1942, it was celebrated as Ohi Day."

Today, I celebrated Oxi Day with Rooibos tea, lemon tart, and Greek homework at Le Petit Fleur.

  Happy Oxi Day!

A Day of (Hitch)Hiking

Trying to make up for lost time, as promised.  I wrote this the day that we came back (two weeks ago on a Sunday), so if the timeline confuses you, that's why!

            This morning, four of the fellows set out to hike Mt. Parnitha, which sits about an hour and a half bus ride away from Athens.   Our day started out eventfully: after meeting up and unsuccessfully attempting to take a cab (you can only take the metro to Omonia, he told us), we took a bus in an attempt to reach the metro station.  About five minutes into our ride, we were puzzled to see the entire bus emptying at a single bus stop.  None of us speak Greek, but I heard the phrase "work stoppage," and we figured it out.  It was 10:40 am, and strikes usually start at 11:00 am.  Everyone had been asked to leave the bus for the work stoppage.  So, a long procession of people wound their way to the nearest metro station.  At Omonia, we exited the metro station and followed our Lizzie, our leader for the day, to a bus station served by the correct bus to take us to Mt. Parnitha (thankfully, a bus that belonged to a different system than the one on strike).  But our transportation woes were not over - we had landed in between the departure times of our desired bus.  Having missed the 8:00 am and being unwilling to wait for the 2:30 pm, we were blessed with a helpful bus driver who told us that the end of his route was as close as we could get; we could hail a taxi from there, or undertake a 30-minute walk.  Given that our objective for the day was to hike, we were undeterred, and boarded the bus.

The cable car (teleferik)
 Me, Mandee, Robyn and Lizzie

            Central Athens faded behind us as we headed into the north suburbs.  We could see the mountains topped with fog as we began our walk.  The cold weather meant that temperature-regulation was a problem - my fleece plus NorthFace shell was too hot, so I unzipped the two.  After a while, even the shell alone was warm, and the scarf came on and off all day.  Before we left the town, we stopped for lunch at a taverna that Mandee deemed "magic" because they brought the appetizers on a large tray for us to choose from, rather than simply ordering them from a menu, to which we were accustomed.  After devouring small plates of beets, Greek salad, sausage, bread, mountain greens, and fried zucchini and eggplant, we were ready to tackle our hike - after Mandee bought trash bags at a small convenience store, fearing rain.

            Walking along the shoulder, peering around tight turns, and avoiding cars, we arrived at the cable car station, which is run by the casino that is situated at the top of the mountain.  We slowly ascended into the mist until we could no longer see the buildings below us.

         Failing to acquire a map at the casino and being warned of the dangerous conditions caused by the fog, we followed the road, periodically veering off to explore the rocky terrain and then returning to the asphalt.  The fog muffled the noise on the mountain and gave the scenery an eerie, otherworldly appearance, which was only accentuated by the burnt trees left by a recent forest fire.  We thought of Edgar Allen Poe, Waiting for Godot and Wuthering Heights, and Lizzie described it as "a post-apocalyptic wasteland."  Still, it was strangely beautiful, and we had the distinct feeling of complete separation from the world.

          We stumbled across what we decided was once a hotel and restaurant, probably destroyed in the fire, and it occurred to us how much of our day could be included in a horror movie: 

Four girls hiking foggy terrain in a foreign country...

"I know I shouldn't open this door, but I really want to.." 

"At least we're not lost."

"Maybe we should split up."
Hmm.

                  We passed up the bus stop near the ruined hotel and a piquant little church, but we began to worry when no other bus stop came into sight.  A map along the trail made it clear that hiking to the bottom of the mountain would take several more hours.  After sighting mountain goats (we had seen large deer earlier in the day), some of the girls decided: we were going to hitchhike down the mountain.  Too self-conscious to participate, I waited as Mandee successfully flagged down a driver, and we all piled into his car.  We learned that he was traveling with two friends (in cars behind him) into Athens, where he lived.  We stopped with him and his friends to eat a quick dinner at a kiosk (think gyros, etc.), and he took us all the way to the AB bus stop in Athens - only 10 minutes from home!  We were very thankful, as we noticed during dinner that it had begun to rain, and we thought of the possibility of our tired, soggy selves up on the mountain.  Hot chocolate, cookies, and a hot shower should round up the weekend nicely.

American Saturday Afternoon

Another busy week + cold = no blog posts :(  Now, I will work on correcting this.

       Yesterday night (Friday), I stayed in and ate some particularly delicious leftovers, so I was ready to get out of the house today.  The thing is, there's nothing to keep me on campus after work, but a sense of unfamiliarity and hesitancy about not being able to speak Greek (plus not knowing anybody) is pretty effective.  This afternoon, some of the fellows made some noise about going shopping.  Shopping?  I am totally in.

     So, at 3 o'clock we jump on the 550 bus, headed for The Mall.   Yes, that's correct - it's capitalized because that's what it's called.  We walk part of the way after the bus stop, and we pass a little carnival complete with bumper cars and a ferris wheel.  We cross a highway by pedestrian bridge, and, as we take the steps up to the mall, we pass street sellers with belts, knock-off designer purses, jewelry, and sunglasses.  Then - forgive the momentary rapturous expression on my face - we enter the mall.  Such a familiar feeling.  The layout reminds me a bit of Carolina Place Mall in Charlotte, as the mall itself has several floors that can be viewed from any one floor.  There is a theater, where we quickly lose the boys to a showing of The Town.  Eleni, Robyn, and I investigate the possibility of bowling, which is surprisingly cheap - about 5 euro for an all-day student pass.  The bowling alley is small, but much nicer than anything I've seen in the States.  American bowling alleys must be slightly sketchy to qualify for the name, I believe.  This one serves sandwiches, frozen cappuccinos, and has a nice bar.

       We pass a mix of stores that I recognize from home, others from those I've seen in Athens, and then some I've never seen at all.  They have United Colors of Benneton, Nine West, Esprit, Marks & Spencer, and even a Claire's.  I'm pretty sure I saw some Steve Madden shoes.  What I am most excited about, however, is the food court - Auntie Anne's pretzels (butter + sugar, yum!), KFC, Goody's, and many more.  This is no tacky plastic-chair area, either.  The coffee shops have large, comfy chairs with cushions.  People pass by with real coffee cups, plates, and silverware.  I could get used to this.  Then, the best thing of all: Gourmet Burger Kitchen.  I have not had a real burger since my departure from the States in August; the beef patties they serve on campus don't count because they have oregano in them and taste like a flat Greek meatball.  I look at the menu and the electronic pictures flipping past on a screen at the restaurant entrance.  This is legit, and part of it's even in English.  This is where I'm eating.
       Robyn and Eleni have already had lunch, so they leave to begin their shopping.  I stand confusedly by the hostess desk for a moment and then ask an employee whether I should sit down; I should.  I settle on a Coke, Bacon and Cheese Burger, and Fries with Garlic Mayo.  I play tetris on my phone awhile - I think that this is the first time that I've ever eaten by myself at a sit-down establishment.  I usually try to avoid them when I'm on my own, but there is no way that I'm giving up my burger!  I take note of the Big Ben poster on the wall - must be a British company.  Then, my food comes.  I know that I have never been as thankful for the British as I am as I attack my burger and fries.  The garlic mayo is phenomenal, but I discover that the "bacon" on my sandwich is some bizarre cross between American and Canadian bacon.  No matter - it's delicious.  I scrape off some of the overly sweet ketchup-y stuff, however.  After a truly heroic effort, I give up trying to finish the burger, but the fries are gone.  I tip the waiter and leave.

       I drift into a state of near-euphoria as I shop for the next hour, finally purchasing a cute bucket hat of pink wool with a black buckle around the brim - from a corner shop that is, amusingly, also British.  One of the employees is from Virginia Beach, and the other has family in Charlotte.  I mention how unusual it is to meet anyone from south of New York, and they say "We love the South here" (in the store, I assume).  Happy sigh.  Did you know that burgers and shopping are very therapeutic?  In fact, I recommend them to all homesick ex-pats.

The Mall - trust me,
it's much larger than it looks.
(http://www.eawc.org/v2/?q=node/691)

P.S.  Title Reference!  Listen to this Brad Paisley song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvdoKvHYxcA&ob=av2e.

Busy Days

Wow, has it really been over two weeks since I’ve posted anything on this blog?  So much has happened since my last post!  There’s the globally relevant terrorist alert that was recently announced for Europe (specifically Great Britain, France, and Germany).  There are the personally relevant trips to Mt. Parnitha and the island of Aegina, and the continuing daily adventure of teaching (now an SAT class, as well as English) and taking Greek class.  Finally, there’s the politically relevant riot at the Acropolis yesterday.  Whew.  Consider the next week’s posts a valiant attempt to make up for lost time.  And I'll start right after I go to an art opening tonight... and eat this delicious pudding... and go to dinner...