snippets

The Metro

As I have already mentioned, riding the metro in Athens is a cultural exploration in its own right. We get on at the Chalandri station and usually ride it to either Syntagma or Monastiraki. It's an odd rhythm that develops as we travel under the city: the inconstant speed of the train as it slows for curves and then speeds on to the next platform slowly develops into a syncopated pattern that seems to make sense if you could only ride the train long enough; the perfectly lilted voice of the woman announcing the stops, first in Greek then in English, begins to sound familiar and becomes part of the anticipation of arrival; the doors ritualistically slide open and disgorge people who look down at the platform as they try to avoid too much contact with the throng of people waiting to fill the empty spots; the careful selection and balance of which train cars are full and which need be filled is part of the rhythm as people shuffle along the platform and shift in place once on the train; the whistling of the brakes and the squeal of steel on steel echoes off the tunnel walls and quickly surrounds the ear so completely that all other noise is subliminal; and that's how thousands of people flow through the veins of the city, pulsing along on the most determinant timetable of the day and through the narrowest of geographies.

I sat next to what I firmly believe was an Albanian immigrant this afternoon. He smelled of cheap cologne and alcoholic sweat. Two weeks ago, I got onto the metro at the end of the line (beginning?) and sat across from a couple who were asleep and totally oblivious that they had arrived at the port. I rode with them all the way back to Monastiraki. Like the proverbial body, they could have ridden all day like that. They were either exhausted or on drugs, and from their scruffy clothes and dirty hands, I assumed, perhaps unustly, that their sleep wasn't the sleep of angels.

Every time I ride the metro, I see a new person whose life I desperately would love to explore. I want to stop the person and ask them if any of the split-second assumptions I make about them are even slightly accurate. We once saw a man get off the train carrying a live chicken with it's head poking out of a plastic bag.

Immigrants and Nationalism

Immigration has been on Athens' collective mind recently. It has an enormous immigrant population from Eastern European countries, North Africa, and Southeast Asia. Today, while sitting outside at the James Joyce Pub, we saw a group of African street vendors with their wares in plastic tarps over their shoulders dashing madly away from the Monastiraki flea market as police strolled down the streets. I cannot imagine living my life in such fear.

On that note, I have been taken aback by the prejudice toward immigrants, particularly Albanians, which I've seen this week. I had heard a few little jabs about them, but this week I've heard outright venom about their thieving ways and untrustworthiness. Of course each of these vitriolic outbursts has been preceded by "I'm not racist, but..." I heard the same thing last week from a Slovakian (Slovak?) student about Obama. Her boyfriend is a skinhead who hates gypsies because they purportedly killed his mentor/father figure. I don't comprehend how that segues into ethnic hatred, but apparently it does.

I understand a certain degree of pride in nation and history, but nationalism is alive and well in Greece to a dangerous degree. A nation so egocentric (to use a Greek word) is not going to do well in the 'new world.' Of course I say this while still being wholly supportive of the 'noble savage' tribes who retain--cling to--their ancient ways in the jungles of South America. There's an invisible and undefinable line between preservation of the worthy past and outright navel-gazing.

Pronunciation

Athin-A is, if I remember correctly, the name of the city.
Ath-I-na is, if that is the case, the name of the goddess.

Xmas

We'll be going home for Xmas! It came through on Thursday that the Greek government will open a window of visa-less travel to and from the USA from yesterday until the end of January. Well, it's more complext than that, but the gist is that we'll get to see family and.... Well, a couple friends, perhaps.

Debate

Last weekend I coached and judged a debate tournament held at Deree College, part of the American College of Athens. I had 3 teams competing against 61 other teams from various international schools in Athens. The debate was done in the British parliamentary style which has 2 unrelated teams of 2 competing against 2 others. A topic is given, and each team develops its own argument(s) in 15 minutes and then argues them for 6 minutes. There's a very specific structure and procedure, and it's a bit confusing at first, but I enjoyed the experiene. I only heard one good debate about a topic, unfortunately, so by the end I was ready to cut my eyeballs as a group of high school Greek students (very much ESL) argued the most superficial points of the legalization of gay marriage. One of our teams placed 19th overall, and one of our speakers placed 38th individually out of 130. Not bad for not having had a single practice!

On Tuesday, the co-coach and I split the group and had 2 short debates about gay marriage and firearms (not connected). I had to participate to even out the teams, and it was great fun to get up and argue with no preparation whatsoever. The students are much more familiar with it than me, and I suspect at least two of them are much more adept at it than me (said with a genuine amount of humility), but I still have a lot to offer them. Critical thinking skills are a lost art.

I forgot...

...what else I was going to blog about. Maybe when Miah wakes up she can remind me.