It's a chilly night in Athens. A brisk breeze on the way to school this morning helped wake me up after a restless night, and the same breeze soothed me on the way home after a long day. I only had two classes today, but my students were rambunctious and took what little energy I'd begun the day with almost instantly. Middle schoolers are a very inquisitive age of children, searching for anything and everything: attention, meaning, laughs, touch, satisfaction, respect, adrenaline. Unfortunately for my students today, I had little more than impatience to give them, something I try to hold back because I don't like being ill-tempered with them. I don't mind being strict, but there's a vast difference between constructive and cruel, and despite my blustering, I try to avoid the latter.
I'm listening to Patty Griffin, a melancholy song for a moment of inner quiet. Of course, the moment I write that, Depeche Mode starts singing "Personal Jesus..." The moment is shattered.
The neighbors upstairs have slowly come to life over the past 3 weeks. We now hear chairs scraping, occasional footsteps, and every now and then a child's voice. There's a dog next door who barks infrequently, a sound we miss a lot.
On my way to work, I make 2 right turns and 2 left turns. And no, I don't live where I work, in case someone was going to suggest it.
On my way to work, there's a 3-meter stretch of road that smells like bleach. I think it's a tree.
On my way to work, I go by a Greek school whose walls are solidly graffiti.
On my way to work, I cross Δουκισσησ Πλακεντιας (Doukissis Plakentias) and breathe a silent prayer for the inventor of scooters to be given an extra day in hell. They're a nuisance and menace.
On my way to work, I walk by an empty lot with a grapevine growing along the bordering fence, and I wonder if I'll get the chance to pick another grape next fall. I also wonder if the dozen chickens wandering around are tame or feral.
On my way to work, I walk by a woman walking her poodle. It's ugly.
On my way to work, I constantly look behind me to make sure a motorcycle isn't using the bike path I'm on to go the wrong way down a one-way street.
On my way to work, I wonder how much longer it will be before my arm/leg/hip gets broken by the mirror of a passing car who's more worried about damaging a parked car than a pedestrian. We walk down a one-way street (alley, more like it) that connects to a major road, and it's horrible to walk in the morning traffic.
My way to work is an adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment