A fighting cow and pot from Crete

If the title of the blog post confuses you, join the club. Both of those are things which came up during the school director's speech to the faculty this morning. Neither thing was explained.

Miah's blog below is the first of many entries from her, but I have been tasked with filling in the blanks of Sunday and Monday. It's getting late, I just ate, and tomorrow is another day of meetings, so this will be unfortunately short.

On Sunday, Miah and I decided to go to Aegina with whoever showed up at the platform of the Panormou station at 7:30, a plan we discussed with a few people the day before. At 7:30, John and Kate--academy science and 3rd grader, respectively--showed up on the platform. None of us were all that excited, to be honest, because it had rained the day before, and the Sunday sky held the promise of more of the same. We agreed that we would at least go down to Piraeus and see the port before calling it quits and heading "home" to the hotel. When we go there, we couldn't resist the call of the island, so we paid 19 Euros for a roundtrip ticket to and from the port city of Aegina. The ferry, the Artemis, was a 3-story behemoth that was practically empty when we sailed at 9 o'clock, and it sped through the Saronic gulf at a speed which, combined with the stormy wind, had us staggering to maintain our footing on the top deck.

Half way to Aegina, the storm clouds began to clear over the island and spawned a double rainbow of intense color and beauty. It was so close that we could almost touch it.

Aegina is a town of about 10000 which lies on the western edge of the island. It has a small swimming beach lined with restaurants whose tables sit within splashing distance of the Mediterranean and whose walls are covered in drying octopus. We walked along the harbor for a bit and admired the beautiful and enormous yachts from all over Europe (most were bigger than our apartment) which then gave way to the fishing trawlers and dinghies. There were also two boats loaded with fresh produce which was spread out on the sidewalk of the harbor and was being eagerly perused by the locals. A kilometer or so from the restaurant where we ate was a column rising abover the rooftops, weatherbeaten and tired but still proud. It was part of the temple of Apollo, a structure older than the Christian faith (for some perspective). Another surreal moment. The entire population of the town could have been swept into the sea, but the column would remain. Or the population could push the column into the sea and its memory would die with the population. Either way, it remains.

After a delicious meal of grilled octopus, fried calimari, sfirida (some kind of white fish), and a Greek salad, we wandered around a little bit then boarded the ferry. We met another new teacher couple just arriving (tourists are everywhere!) who had also felt the call of island escapism. I won't detail the ferry ride back because I have pictures of the little boy, birds, and water on the Flickr page.

Monday, Labor Day, we put together our IKEA furniture which finally arrived on the backs of two sweaty Greeks. Putting together IKEA is a pain in the butt. Also, we got 2 wrong pieces: the cushion to the futon and a disgusting white coffee table. The things that happen when you don't speak Swedish or Greek. Beyond that, the day was uneventful.

Today began our meetings at school. I'm so riled up right now that I don't feel I should blog about it. One new teacher said, "It's like I'm stepping back in time 3 years." I know that doesn't explain anything to you, dearest reader, but it's perfect. We have a lot to bring to the school in order to catch them up to where many American public schools are.

We also went grocery shopping at ΑΤΛΑΝΤΗΚ in our neighborhood. It wasn't easy not being able to read any of the labels, and I'm still not convinced we didn't buy olive-scented baby oil instead of extra virgin olive oil. Oh, and somewhere in the process we acquired two glasses with spirally red hearts on them while checking out, and all the cashier said when I motioned they weren't ours was, "Doura." I don't know what that means.