Athens Exchange is up!

Since some of you expressed interest in an online area where us folks in Athens could get rid of our clutter and make a little money, Athens Exchange is now up courtesy of yours truly. It works like this:

1. Email the address listed on the page (athensexchange@hotmail.com) with what you want to sell, your asking price, terms and contacts and I'll list it for you. Simple. You are then responsible for completing the transaction. It's FREE!
2. If you have a bad experience, use the comments function to flag up bad sellers, a bit like ebay
3. If you're unsure, take a look at the page and the first listing.

I am going to run it via the blog entry titles. Hence the first one there says Books. Each time I get a request to list a book, I'll update the post with the new items for sale. I'll see how that goes and find another way if it fails.

Please let people know about this so we can get it running!

Happy exchanging. Oh, and don't laugh at what athensexchange looks like as one word.

Oh No You Don't!

By the way, I forgot to add the tiny detail of being wrong-footed by Mr Zeus at Easter time when he asked my parents for permission to get engaged later this year while I was testing out my barbecue gear. Greasy, bedraggled hair and old clothes that stink of smoke, what a vision I was. That man's timing is OUTSTANDING.

Anyway, it ain't all happy houses. There's no way the Greek Orthodox Church is going to let me shack up with one of their flock unless I convert too, which I neither want nor feel the need to do, as I believe in one universal God. I don't think He cares what phoneline we call Him on, so what if my connection is different to yours?

We have time to kill before we need to seriously think about what exactly we're going to do. By a (divine) coincidence, the day after we'd been pondering the issue, we awoke to the spectacle of a Greek priest saying that in the future, those with political marriages (this is the only route we'd be able to take) will not be allowed to be godparents. Also their marriage isn't recognised by the church. I don't mind so much about not being a godparent, but I don't think it's fair to punish Mr Zeus like this. By the way, I am due to baptise my godson soon, and God help me if the priests kick up a fuss on the day about me not being Greek Orthodox. I love the kid! Just because I'm not Greek Orthodox doesn't mean I'm going to start training him to be a suicide bomber!

The Church is also pushing for a type of religious ID card to prove that you are Christian when applying to marry, to avoid charlatans like me trying to blag my way in. If we somehow worked out a way to get married in a Orthodox Church, I would need to sign a paper declaring my future children will be baptised as Greek Orthodox. Relax, homies, I beat you to that one already, since Greece is so homogenous when it comes to religion that I'd rather my future kids had a good start fitting in. If they take an interest in my religion when they grow up that's up to them.

It's okay though, since both of us are screwed if we get married without either one of us switching religions. I as a woman can't 'marry out' of my religion, so I'll be automatically ex-communicated, and he'll be religiously condemned too. At least we'll be together in hell.

For now, it's funny. I have a feeling though that this issue is going to turn out to be a real pain in the bum. I could convert I guess, and have my Dad reconvert me after the ceremony on the steps of the Church, ha ha ha!! You didn't think of that, did you Papa!

Image: From http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/MMPO/MyBigFatGreekWedding~My-Big-Fat-Greek-Wedding-Posters.jpg

Virtual Spring Cleaning

Ever feel weighed down by all the extra stuff in your house that you really don't need any more? I know I do. Sadly Greece doesn't seem to have a garage/carboot sale culture and so I can't find a profitable way of selling on my crap to other people. Mr Zeus says this is because people are shy about their neighbours knowing what they've got in the private folds of their apartment. 'Look at that toaster from 1975, times must be hard for Mr Popodopolous if they only JUST replaced it and are selling the old one.' That sort of thing.

I am ebay's number one customer in Athens I reckon, but I mean in buying terms. When it comes to selling, the price of posting things to customers in the UK or America is just too high to attract buyers.

Know what I mean? If you do,tell me what you think of this idea. I was thinking of setting up another blog page where we can advertise our stuff for sale. I wouldn't take a cut from it, it would literally be like an exchange and advertise page. You email me and I'll put your stuff plus a price and your contacts. I have a lot of things like books I've read and don't plan on reading again, DVDs, shoes etc.

Waiting to hear your opinions, we can start it up and take it from there. No one loses anything right?

By the way, the above idea is copyright of Bollybutton c. 2007 and I'll send the boys round if you steal it...

Image: http://www.swapmeetdave.com/Humor/Workshop/OL-Donkey-Cart.jpg

Athens in Spring

Mmmm what is it about a Mediterranean spring that makes you want to get naked and run through the orange groves?

While resisting my urges to be at one with nature, I am welcoming with open the arms the warmer tinge that the breeze has, the adoring caress of the spring sun and the evening breeze that is filled with the amazing scent of orange and lemon blossom.

The combination is wonderful. It's also very distracting and I'm not getting any work done.

Image: http://www.brewberg.com/Meadow%20frolicking.jpg

How to do Greek Easter in England

Did you all have a good Easter? I certainly did, complete with full roasting lamb. Let's not examine the fact that in England you can't buy a lamb with the head attached. You can buy the head separately and do what you wish with it. And thus on Easter two little lamb souls were watching from heaven and shaking their heads at the indignity of being roasted attached to someone else's head/body.

You don't get the huge roasting gear in England so I had to order it from a scrap metal company. I had made the appropriate phonecalls from Athens and located one that was willing to do it for me, and so off I went to draw them what I wanted, boldly asserting that the roasting stick had to be at least 2 metres 20. It went something like this:

"Are you sure you want it that big?"

"Yeah, it's got to be, I'm roasting a whole lamb"

When I turn up for collection my eyes pop out of my head when I see just how big 2 metres 20 is.

"It's uh... a bit big"

"You asked for it to be this big"

"Yeah I know"

No need to worry, it was just the perfect size. Greeks everywhere, be proud of me, this little South Asian who managed to order lamb-roasting gear in a small English town and get the proportions exactly correct.

In Greek Easter, size is everything. And so on Saturday it was off to the Arab butchers in Birmingham to buy our full lamb. They let Mr Zeus and my mum walk into the meat freezer to pick it for themselves and then he found a head that matched up nicely. Armed with our booty, we headed off for the preparations.

On Sunday about 15 of my cousins, aunties, uncles and friends turned up and howled with delight when they realised "Come over for some roasted lamb" meant literally an entire roasted lamb. There was lots of curtain twitching as curious neighbours wondered what their nut-case exotic neighbours were up to now. We had lifted some slabs out of the patio to make a fully fledged roasting pit, and faced with a barbecue of such epic proportions, no one else in the neighbourhood attempted to wheel out their little grills and face total humiliation.

It was a total success. Thank you, Greece, for transforming Easter from a boring Sunday trying to catch something interesting on TV into the party of the year. Jesus would have been most proud that you got a whole gang of non-Christians in on the act.

Image: From http://jan.moesen.nu/media/photos/2004/07/jhx-kernweekend-in-houffalize/20040710-barbecue-1.jpg

Unmarried at Easter

Happy Easter/Kalo Pasxa to you all! I know it's not easter yet, but exciting events abound mean I won't be able to post on the actual day. This is largely because I will be too stuffed to fit myself on the chair infront of the computer.

My trip to the Homeland went off without a hitch in every sense of the word. Not only did I come back unmarried, but I was able to brush off questions in that direction with an ease I never knew I had. Why, it almost bordered on Mr Zeus's aversion to marriage!
A greek friend once told me the only way to get a greek to marry you is to get pregnant. Riiiiight.... I think I'll save that one as Plan Z. But although I used the phrase "I'm not getting married" with the same emphasis as "I'm not getting leprosy", I can tell that everyone Back Home feels very sorry for me and my absolute lack of a marriage proposal. With each passing of Suitable Moments To Propose, like New Year's Eve, Valentine's Day, Monday, I can feel my mother's desperation and pity for me grow. She must sadly envision my reproductive system shrivelling up (naturally, since I'm well past 22 now) and try to reconcile herself to the fact that she'll never see her little Indo-Greek grandchildren. Dad has kind of given up on me, but Mummy dearest, God bless her, I can read her face like a book.

Anyway, I'm all set for a great easter because this time Mr Zeus is flying out to do easter with MY family. Yipeee! Cue Bollywood dance spectacular complete with villainous dad polishing his shotgun. And no proposal, this I have confirmed in advance because I don't want mum to be dusting off my dowry when all her daughter is likely to get on her finger is an onion ring.

Image: http://www.worldswalker.com/images/nanny-goat_jpg.jpg

Adios Amigos

Panic not, dear friends. This is just a post to let you know that I am off to the Homeland to dance around trees for a week. I'm going to go back to my village and smell the soil, walk in the green wheat fields, pray on my grandparents' graves, play with my baby cousins, spend lazy afternoons in my desert-border hometown chatting to the people I grew up with, take walks down the streets I played on as a child, bargain tactfully in the old market and eat my aunty's delicious curry breakfasts. People think curry for breakfast is an insane idea, but I think it's a much gentler wake-up than the screaming matches on TV with a fag and a coffee.

My cover story is already set up for me and all I have to do is stick to it. The official line is that I still live and work in the UK. Because in the country I am from, boys can do what they want, but girls who step out of line are done for. The fact that I am in a loving relationship and us living together in a supportive unit should be cause for a family's happiness. Unfortunately for me, the man happens to be the wrong colour and religion and also not married to me.

I have male cousins who got blind drunk, slept with prostitutes and generally indulged in appalling behaviour but none of this tarnished the family's honour. However, if anyone from back home found out what I am doing here in Greece (forming a relationship I plan to keep for life) all hell would break loose. My immediate family have been understanding, but back home is a whole other story.

If word got out, I'd be excommunicated faster than you can say "Dishonour". No more aunty's curries, no more warm welcomes, no more fields in my village. So even though it makes me angry, I will stick to my cover story because I don't want my father's reputation to bite the dust along with mine. Aren't you impressed that I can still dance with all the weight of a family's honour on my slender shoulders?

Anyway, keep my blogspot warm for me till I get back and I'll share my tales upon my return.

Image: http://www.temid.com/photos/albums/diwali/IMG_1672.jpg

HA HA HA HA!!!!!

I was looking online to find some facts on smoking in Greece and I found out that Greece is Europe's most heavily smoking country. As a total non-smoker, you can imagine the fun I have in bars, clubs and taverns constantly breathing in the crap other people are slowly killing themselves with. If you notice a face amongst a group looking horrified that no-one seems bothered about smoking around pregnant women and small children, it's probably me. But then why should they be bothered? I've seen pregnant women happily puffing away, which is wrong no matter what angle you look at it from.

I nearly wet myself laughing when my searches threw up this gem: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/2288121.stm. Ha ha ha! Yeah right! No wonder I never heard of this 'ban' before.

Since I've started I might as well finish: Smokers, if you don't care enough about yourself to stop smoking that's your problem, but don't take me with you!

Watch Sarbel In Action Here!!

*Swoon* I can't help it!

Yia Sou Sugar!

A bit late of me to report on this, but my very own Sarbel is going to be flying the flag for Greece at Eurovision 2007. Being somewhat of an expert on Eurovision winability, I am sorry to say that the song, 'Yia Sou Maria' doesn't have the necessary elements to win it. I mean, Elena Paparizou had a bunch of male dancers in tight tops who lay down and formed the number 1 with their bodies. That's Eurovision magic! 'Yia Sou Maria' is just not.... camp enough?

Who really cares though. Some people (men) aren't too crazy about Sarbel's song winning the nationwide who-shall-we-send-to-Eurovision competition, but that's just because they're jealous. As long as I get to cheer on my twin (recap: born same day, same month, same year as moi) I don't mind if he sings Baa Baa Blacksheep. Mr Zeus is not at all impressed with the half-Cypriot, half-Lebanese chocolate muffin, so I am considerate lately and resist my urge to swoon when he's on TV.

I kind of wish he had submitted his flagship song 'Sokolata' for the competition, but sadly he didn't ask me for my opinion. That song plus a pinch of Bollywood spice, and Eurovictory would have been Greece's!

Image: http://www.arionvraveia.gr/html/nomine/popups/2005/sarbel1.jpg

Women's Day 2007

Hooray for us, girls!! March the 8th is marked all over the world as International Women's Day. Some think that by 2007 enough work has been done to progress the situation of women and that such a day isn't really that important any more. I know London is marking it with some rubbish about animals in art and yoga rather than important issues as why is it that mothers with young children are the most discriminated against than any other group in the job market. But we're not in London, we're in Athens.

Greece is one of the safest countries in Europe, and this applies for the safety of women too. I can wait at a near-deserted bus stop late at night and not feel worried about my safety, unlike London. Greece is waking up to the 21st Century and taking steps towards reducing the machismo that is characteristic of Mediterranean countries in general and promoting gender equality in school and at work.

Consider, then, these statistics which I pulled from last week's Athens News on the incidence of abuse of Greek women:

Experience of violent behaviour by a husband or partner in a previous relationship:
39.7%

Experience of violence in house in which you grew up:
11.2%

Verbal or physical abuse from husband or partner:
56% <-- am I the only one who thinks this is WAY TOO HIGH?!

Forced into sexual intercourse:

3.3%

Consider husband or partner to be violent:

8.8%

It goes without saying that Greece, like almost everywhere else in the world, pays a woman less than a man gets for the same job. Back to the macho Mediterranean culture, in summer 2005 when I was walking back from a beach and a male jogger running past me grabbed me between the legs, it was shrugged off as one of those playful things men do in the summer. It might not be such a big deal on the scale of violating things that a man can do to a woman, but it's these small allowances that add up to a bigger picture.

Don't think that it's all bad news though. Today, put on your favourite clothes and go out with your girlfriends for your coffee. If you'll be at home, pour a glass of wine and say "Here's to me!" Celebrate what women have achieved thus far, and in fact celebrate the fact that you even exist. 10 million baby girls in India weren't so lucky. I know this post is a bit heavier than my usual nonsense, but women's rights is a cause very close to my heart. I grew up in a country where a baby girl could be killed for as little as 70 cents. And I'm not talking abortion, I mean an actual baby that had been born.

I did try to find events in Athens that were marking Women's Day, so if anyone reading knows of something please post it in a comment. Kosmos Radio is playing female singers all day till 2pm on 93.6 FM.

To all mothers, daughters, wives, girlfriends, friends, sisters, businesswomen, wonderwomen, here's to US!

Links:

http://www.internationalwomensday.com/

http://www.un.org/womenwatch/

Image: http://www.chambersfund.org/images/chambers-family-fund-photo.jpg

I Laiki it a lot

Lately it's all been doom and gloom for me, but this weekend things started to look up again. On Saturday, Athens experienced a beautiful Greek spring day with a gently warm breeze and hot sunshine. Waking up to such a lovely day and feeling optimistic, I decided to go out and about and do the day's shopping all by myself. Since the incident with the rude girl in the ticket booth, my confidence for talking to Greeks plummeted, so I thought what better way to get back on track than the hubub of the weekly vegetable market, called the laiki.

Local weekend markets are still big business in Greece, despite breakfast news regularly featuring irate yiayias complaining about the crazy price rises. "Carrots were only 50 cents last week and now they're 70!!" sort of thing. It's a good place for ladies to get together and gossip while they do the weekly shop. It's also a pretty safe place to practice your Greek as farmers are eager to shift their goods and are very unlikely to be rude to you, unless you're rude to them first. Pave your way with lots of good mornings and how are yous.

Now, for most city slickers, markets are an alien concept. They're just too used to turning up in a supermarket and tossing lots of uniform, shrink wrapped produce into their baskets. I remember a friend in the UK who couldn't understand what I was up to when I went through the melons in Tesco trying to sniff out which one smelt sweet. So if market shopping is still a bit tricky for you, here is my fool-proof method for picking up the best of the best: Watch where all the little old ladies go.

Trust me, it never fails. When faced with seven different stalls selling tomatoes, I always head for the one where lots of little old ladies are mingling. On Saturday I overestimated my own skills and decided to buy tomatoes from a stall sans little ladies. They turned out to be bland and boring, and I went back for round two, this time sticking to the little ladies. Try it, works every time!

Apart from the laiki, I also went to the bakery. I somehow managed to lose our regular bakery, missed it by one street, and was finally able to use my classic phrase from the original Greek classes I took in London: Is there a bakery nearby? The answer to that in Greece will always be yes.

So Saturday was very productive. I received warmth and friendly curiosity from everyone I spoke to, from the girl in the bakery who told me the name of the bread I was pointing at in an exaggerated manner "xoriatiko", to the lady in the cleaning shop who helped me pick an unbranded but very effective washing powder.

Image:http://www.cls.yale.edu/lexis/PD/content/market.jpg

I predict a riot

Yesterday trundling back from my class on the bus a lady was moving down the aisles asking for bus tickets. In Athens, it's acceptable to buy your ticket off another passenger. They'll actually give it to you. Astonishment! Two years in London really killed my belief in other people.

Anyway, the hot topic of the day is Greece's failure to decide on reforming their university system. You know what I'm talking about if you live in Greece. If you don't you obviously don't watch enough shouting matches on morning TV. The government wants to privatise some unis to create healthy competition and raise the standard of the education provided, along with reasonable measures like putting a time limit on how long you can take to finish your degree. What, it's open ended? Yes children, it is.

The Greeks love nothing better than a good protest, so they've been up in arms for what seems like FOREVER over the reforms. Every day the TV shows long-haired students burning things, throwing petrol bombs and shutting down their campuses. Smart, guys, real smart. I too was a long-haired student once, but I have no sympathy for their cause. The highest ranking of a Greek university according to the Times Higher Education Supplement is number 459. The university of Athens comes in at number 508. Kids, you really have nothing to be proud of. When your universities are doing so badly in international league tables, it would be wiser to contemplate measures that might improve them, not throw a hissy fit that you won't be allowed to take 10 years to finish your degree.

Generally, I don't agree with privatisation, but in this case I sincerely do. Why should smart Greek kids who want to learn and have a degree that would actually be worth something have to miss out because they can't afford to go overseas to get an education? The Ancient Greeks are still regarded as some of the most intelligent people in the history of humanity, because they valued knowledge and tried to make it available easily. Why should modern Greeks be disadvantaged by not having good quality universities in their own country? Why should they have to pay and go abroad, thus contributing to the country's brain drain? Someone should ask these rioters: wouldn't it be nice to get a good quality, useful education and still have dinner at Mama's? That's the one that'll clinch it!!

Alas, what do I know, right? I'm just a stinky foreigner after all.

Image: http://media.portland.indymedia.org/images/2007/02/354731.jpg

Smoochity smooch

Ah Valentine's day, that wonderful gimmick of marketing that forces millions to put their money where their hearts are. Today is the first time I have actually spent Valentine's day with the person I love. My romantic gesture for the day was to shape scrambled eggs into a heart for breakfast. I also have a sickly habit of shaping the foam on Mr Zeus's espresso into a heart using a toothpick. Makes you want to vomit, doesn't it?

Here are some things you can say to your Greek lover today:

Se agapao: I love you. Greece's number one exported phrase.
Se latrevo: I'm crazy about you
Agapi mou: My love
Moro mou: My baby
Se thelo: I want you, and not in the 'I want you to do the dishes' kind of context
Poo einai to doro mou?: Where is my present?
Den magapas?: Don't you love me?
Den magapas! : You don't love me!!
Fevgo!: I'm leaving!
Ma ti ekana?: But what did I do?
Esu ksereis ti ekanes. Skepsou to! Pao stin Mama mou, boo hoo!: You know what you did, think about it. I'm going to my mother's place. Boo hoo!

Go forth, lovebirds, and may you have a wonderful, consumeristic Valentine's day.

Image: http://static.flickr.com/32/67695247_693f48919b.jpg

Details of Life

Last Thursday really wasn’t a good day for me. First in my morning Greek class certificates were passed out and I didn't get one despite passing the test because I missed more than 10 hours of class. I went to talk to the office, explaining that I knew I would miss some classes towards the end of December so I had warned them in advance and they had told me as long as I sat the paper before I left I'd have no problem. The lady looked at me, opened her mouth, and that my friends is the moment I got my first bitter taste of the Kafka-esque world of Greek bureaucracy: “It’s a matter for the head office, I can’t do anything about it.” Great! Thanks a lot sweetheart! I’ll just go then.

The next incident was downtown on Thursday evening after my evening class (note how bad things connected to me learning Greek). It was Tsikno Pembti, Burnt Thursday so I was in a hurry to get home. Tsikno Pembti is the 10th day before ‘Clean Monday’, the deadline up to which you can eat as much meat as you want. It’s some Easter thing and I’m not entirely sure what the deal is as there are lots of different theories, but all I understood was BARBECUE, MUST GO HOME.

I had no bus tickets so I went to buy some from the ticket booth. Inside the booth was a round-faced girl blabbing on her mobile and chewing gum, who by the looks of it didn’t know how to apply eyeliner properly. I know I’m being mean, but she deserved it. I asked for 10 tickets at 50 cents a piece and she handed them over. I gave her a 50 euro note and apologised for not having any change. She looked at me, sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Well I don’t have any change either, move on.” Okay I said, how about if I buy 20 tickets? “No”. Did she really expect me to believe no one had bought enough tickets all day for her to be able to give me change and that there was no other polite way for her to say that to me? So rude! When I deal as an obvious foreigner with everyday Greeks on my own, three things can happen:

1) No problem at all (this is usually the case)
2) No problem until I get the bill (sometimes happens with taxi drivers who like tricking hapless foreigners)
3) A ‘I can’t be bothered to deal with this’ attitude (rare, and unfortunately almost always has come from women in my experience)

With a situation like that, it’s not the fact that someone has been rude to you, that happens anywhere you live, it’s the fact that you don’t have the language skills to put them in their place.

Things picked up on Saturday night though. It’s carnival season in Athens and we got invited to a costume party. Brilliant fun! Everything said and done, no one parties like the Greeks.

Image: http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/munch/munch.scream.jpg

GIMME FIVE!!!!!

Yesterday was some sort of teacher holiday or I don't know what so I didn't have evening Greek class. Instead I went downtown with some Greek friends and deposited myslelf in a very grubby and authentic Asian eatery. It was in the bad part of town, with dirt cheap food that was actually much tastier than Iskandar. I didn't pay attention so I don't know the name but I'll get it, it's well worth a visit, the type of place that has no menu, you just eat whatever they happened to have made.

But better yet, I found fresh coriander. The quest is over! I FOUND IT!!!! I can cook curries to my heart's content. Thank you, God! All I had to do was pay attention downtown in the Asian shops and go at off-peak times to beat the crowds.

The pic is my hand done up by me with some good Yemeni henna. Come summer 2007 I plan on cornering the market in Athens for natural henna tattoos. Black henna is not natural and is dangerous for you.

Good times, good times.

Winter and the Sales

It's been a while since I commented on anything other than what's going on inside my head or my life in general. This blog is meant to be an observation of Greek life as I recall.

My big smelly doberman is inside today snoozing on the floor and I think he is depressed. Probably because I call him big and smelly and don't take him for walks often enough to pee on trees and sniff other dogs. I am a terrible mother.

Anyway, it's sale time in Athens. If you want to know about the perks of Greek life, the sales are definitely one. They don't fool around when they use the word 'sale' here. In the UK I'd usually hit the sales and only find the ugliest and biggest clothes on offer while all the pretty stuff was still full price. Not so here, they practically give it all away. Loving it!

In other tragic news, all this working from home has led me to leave the TV on all day as company. I get lonely, you know. The horrific side-effect of this habit is that... I don't even know how to say it... I now actually watch... the Young and the Restless. Oh the shame!!!!

Hmm, shockingly I have no more to say. So look at this, http://www.guardian.co.uk/international/story/0,,2001875,00.html, I tell you this could not happen anywhere else except Greece, ha ha ha ha ha!!

I'm still Here

Well it seems some of you thought I had cut and run from Athens, but thanks to a stubborn streak I am far too stupid to give myself a break. Chatting to the sugarplums in Greek class, we reflected on how we have all met so many women who moved to Greece for love as opposed to men. This can mean one of two things:

1) women are tougher than men. This is the same argument we use to console ourselves about childbirth being our job.

Or 2) women are just stupider than men and like making martyrs out of themselves. Feminism LIED TO ME!! This is how come I bust my ass trying to learn Greek grammar till 9 at night and still have to come home and do the mountains of dishes in th sink. SUCKSSSS!!!! Which way to the revolution, sisters?

I think I am reaching a critical point with the language at least and it'll all tip over into total ease of communication. I just hope that the day the flying pig delivers my certificate of proficiency in Greek I'm not out riding my unicorn.

Here's some good news though. Since witnessing my meltdown, my other half decided to take some action and took me out for some Indian cuisine to a new place close by. Sweet! The food was good, the songs were familiar, the staff spoke Hindi and let me have extra green chillis since they cooked everything minus spices. "The Greeks just can't handle any spice" the waiter explained to me.

So if you want simultaneously empty your wallet and fill your tummy with yummy treats, go to Iskandar, www.restaurantiskandar.gr ph. 210 98 86 474. I recommend the Madras chicken, it's hot stuff!

Image: http://mwolson.risnerolson.org/albums/misc/Feminism_Lg.jpg

I Don't Want Any More Feta

There comes a time in your life, every now and then, when having wonderful cheekbones just isn’t enough to shake the blues, when you realize that you might as well be a lampshade at social gatherings since your language limitations prevent those present from discovering that you have a great personality to match those great cheekbones.

You’re reduced to smiling like a moron all the time, which is fine for an advertisement for some ubiquitous, barely legal painkiller/religious cult/incontinence pad, but not if that smile is masking your sheer boredom.

I funking hate being a foreigner sometimes, even though I do *heart* Athens (see 10 Reasons) and a few days ago I had a huge I-want-to-leave-but-I-don’t-want-to-leave breakdown. There is no food in the abode, and three weeks worth of laundry that needs doing, all signs that I, for the moment, couldn’t give a flying cheese pie about the perks of Greek living.

Crappy old American sitcoms playing on daytime TV did nothing to alleviate my forlorn state, as did those idiotic Barbie doll-a-like female hosts that abuse my retinas on every channel.

If they must insist on opening their mouths to release the garble which makes me grateful for once to not understand the language while flashing their bad bleach and boob jobs at me, the least they can do is balance that with some hot scantily clad maleness. I thought Greece was supposed to be a democracy!

I need chocolate… lots of it… preferably administered by Antonio Banderas clad in naught but a fig leaf. For now though I’ll make do with some at-home TLC and after-class hot chocs with the babes from Intermediate II. I’ll be back to normal in a day or so.

Image: http://artfiles.art.com/images/-/PMS-Magnet-C11756530.jpeg

Bollytastic!!!!

With it being new year and all, I've got an idea into my head and I need your help.

For a while now I've been speculating on what good exercise Bollywood dancing is and how I'd like to run a class at the local gym teaching Bollywood dancing. Not classical Indian, that takes years to learn and everything I know about Bollywood I taught myself by watching videos.

So, girls, help me out and tell me if you saw your local gym was advertising a Bollywood dance workout, would you go? I know I'd have a fantastic time teaching it since I enjoy dancing so much, but I'm sure I'd need an idea of whether anyone would be interested before I go to propose such a class, they're not just going to let me run it and no one turns up.

Whadaya say??

Image: http://bollywood-94.skyblog.com/pics/512859400_small.jpg

Advice from a Good Samaritan

Happy New Year! How was it for you? I passed into this year running around in the dark thanks to a power cut at the crucial moment. Mr Zeus was caught on the stairs with a tray of glasses. Hope that's not the tone for the rest of the year.

I digress! This is the first new year I've had in Athens, which is a milestone for me. Since starting this blog it was come to my attention that there are other lost souls like me, snared in the trap of love and willing to fling themselves to foreign lands. I have done it, sweethearts, so here is some advice and resources to help you along:

The Attitude:
I'll be honest. When it came to dreams of moving overseas I had my heart set on somewhere in equatorial Asia. I never dreamt I'd end up living in Greece. But since I'm here, I have to work hard to make it my own, otherwise all Mr Zeus will ever hear from me is: "I moved here for YOU and this is all you got me for my birthday?" Drum it into your head even if you don't believe it that you are moving to Greece for you, for a future and if nothing else, the experience. Explore your city on your own, find out where you like to go and what you like to do; make it your own otherwise you will resent living here.

The Language:
I'm not going to sugar coat this; Greek is very hard to learn. It will drive you crazy, make you cry with frustration and horrify you with its endless folds of tricky grammar. But don't for a second chicken out of learning it because most people in Athens speak English. I now speak enough Greek to survive if I was abandoned somewhere, and it had transformed my relationship with life in Greece.

You have two options. You can either pay for lessons, there are hundreds of language schools in Athens. I attend classes at the Hellenic American Union, which cost about 370E for 3 months, six hours per week. However, having taken these classes I am not too impressed with what I got for my money, but anything better costs more.
http://www.hau.gr/hau/en/edu_greekprogram.html

Unless of course you take free Greek classes. Yes, free. The EU funds a scheme in Greece for immigrants to learn Greek. These classes are totally free, and I have taken them. They are actually better than Hellenic American, we get free materials and study supplements. I've heard different things about what you need to sign up. I just went with my passport which they photocopied, but then I am from the EU. Outside the EU, you may need to show a residency permit.
Visit www.ideke.edu.gr/kee or call 210 253 0334 for your nearest centre offering these classes.

Paperwork:
Unless you come from an EU member state, you will need a residency permit for stays of over 3 months. This link will explain what you need to do in order to get one: http://www.athensnews.gr/Directory2006/1dir41.htm

I Ain't Got Nobody:
When you move to Greece, you will be reduced to a three year old. You will have no language skills, you will have to rely on someone else for shelter, transportation, entertainment and socialising. Love is great, but it can't conjure up friends of your own or Mummy's cooking. It's lonely when you first move here. Do as much homework as you can and have no illusions about what life in Greece is like, it's very different to coming here on holiday. A good starting point is community organisations: http://www.athensnews.gr/Directory2006/1dir13.htm
Language classes are also a good place to make friends.

I Ain't Got No Job:
Independent types will have to swallow their pride for a while. The job market in Greece stinks. Forget what you earned before, here 700E a month counts as good money. I got VERY lucky that my job in London let me carry on working from Athens, but for the rest, here are some useful links:
http://www.skywalker.gr/
http://www.justjobs.gr/english/common/home.asp
http://ec.europa.eu/eures/home.jsp?lang=en
http://www.athensnews.gr/dolma/dol_ma.maindex
Allow about 3 months from beginning your search to landing a job. See the link of residence permits to learn what paperwork you'll need to work in Greece.

A final, very useful link is the guide produced by Athens News, which has links to answer pretty much anything you might want to know:
http://www.athensnews.gr/Directory2006/1dir1.htm

I think that about covers it. If you want to get in touch with me, I moderate all my comments so leave a comment with your email address and I'll get back to you without publishing the comment. It's hard darlings, real hard, but lucky for you you have me who's done it all, gleaned all this info the hard way and is now passing it on to you for free! So when you move here, bring me a nice present. Seriously though, I've done it and now nothing seems scary any more.


Image: http://sermons4kids.com/good-samaritan-432x392.jpg

With All my Love...

In case you live on Saturn and didn't know, Christmas is now within spitting distance. For this occassion of festive consumerism, I am in the UK with my family, allowing me to pick up some unusual items for presents.

Take a look at this piece of work. This is the Voodoo knife display by Italian designer Raffaele Iannello. It's Mr Zeus's Christmas present from yours truly!

My boss thought it was the wrong present to buy for someone you love, but just look at it! It's so much fun! In a sick kind of way.

Buy online at:
www.red5.co.uk
www.iwantoneofthose.com
www.firebox.com

New Lows

If you had the misfortune of being downtown yesterday between 7-9.30pm anywhere around Plaka and Syntagma, my apologies in advance.

Yesterday was the culmination of several days of flat-out deadline meeting with work, leaving me no time to do any laundry. When I was finally able to wash some clothes, they were still not dry by the time I went downtown. Realising with 15 minutes to spare that I had a bus to catch, my primary motivation was warmth.

Hence, beautiful people of Athens, yesterday evening I assaulted your eyes with the following combination:

- An oversized, clean-ish beige jumper belonging to Mr Zeus
- Grey baggy sports bottoms with an orange stripe down each side. Not so bad if it wasn't for the fact that I had slept in them the night before AND spent all day yesterday in them
- A brown scooter jacket with furry collar, missing a drawstring on one side.
- Scuffed red sports shoes
- An out-of-place nice looking brown shoulder bag

Having had too much work to do to care, I couldn't be bothered less what I looked like as I exited my humble abode. However, it's only when you have sunk to new depths of fashion abuse that you realise how well-dressed Athenians are.

My entire time out I caught scornful/horrified glances. The look on the women's eyes was: How revolting / That poor little refugee
The men was more: I looked up for THAT?!/ That poor little refugee

So I want to apologise. Let me make it clear that while my fashion sense is 65% towards practical, 25% decent and 8% glamorous, it tends to stick to an annual 2% of absolutely terrible.

I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again, oh well-dressed Athenians!

10 Reasons

In answer to the continuing bitchfest that has become my post titled Summer in Greece, here are ten things I like about living in Athens:

1. 20 C at the end of November
2. The Acropolis at night
3. Souvlaki
4. Galaktoburiko
5. Greek summers by the sea
6. The pastry shop around the corner
7. Hot, crispy loukoumades with melted honey
8. Abundant eye-candy
9. How there's always a way to get around any rule
10. Happy faces on the street

There! Now stop baying for my blood! Because you have been naughty and didn't read all the nice things I've previously said about Greece I am rejecting all mean comments on that post from now on. Let's put it in a simpler way that might help you understand:

India is a beautiful country rich in history, with friendly people and delicious food. You'd love it if you went for a visit, but living there is a whole other matter. After a few months of the same spicy food all the time, the language barrier, the cultural differences, squealing Bollywood songs on the radio all day, you might start to find parts of life there irritating.

It's no reflection on India's greatness if you are finding it hard now and then to settle down there. Replace India with Greece and you'll see what I mean. Do you get it now? Will you all calm down and stop campaigning to get me kicked out of the country?

Memory Too Low

I have stumbled across a rather sad fact. My brain seems to have the capacity for only two languages at any one given time. As my growing Greek takes over space in my already taxed brain, I have discovered that my second language, acquired while growing up in the Hinterland is slowly filtering out of my brain like oil from a pressed olive.

Mr Zeus being a glutton for punishment like me, now and then asks me what we call such and such thing Back Home. And more often than not I find myself saying I don't know.

So here we have history repeating itself and the Greek language taking over where Alexander the Great left off and invading braincells instead of countries.
Image: http://www.dancingstarfoundation.org/images/No-Vacancy-Open33.jpg

My New Best Friend

A mysterious Jenny recently left a comment on my blog and she is my new Best Friend. Why? Because she knows Sarbel!
To learn more about my twin Sarbel (born same day, same month, same year as me... destiny...) see my post titled Sweet Sugar Goodness.

I don't think Mr Zeus even knows about this blog, but if he is reading this I know he won't be pleased that I actually have a way to meet the lovely komati of sokolata Sarbel.

Sarbel, in case you are wondering, there's still no ring on this finger you know... Just saying that anything's possible. Heck, you might even be a big fan of this blog and one of the anonymous posters, wondering, just wondering how to meet me. Now you know! Hooray!

Image: http://www.smartgiftsolutions.co.uk/images/misc/eating_chocolate.jpg

Cutting the Umbilical Cord

As time moves on and friendships progress, people tell you things about their life that make you go"Hmmm". The recurring topic with the biggest "Hmmm" factor is Greek men and their mothers. Greeks are very close to their families, and coming from a similar culture I appreciate that.

But whatI find a little strange is the hostility some Greek mothers display to their daughters-in-law. Sure, Mamaka's favourite hobby isn't to invite her friends over to douse her daughter-in-law in petrol and set her alight like in the Home Country, but why do the mothers of Greece, a modern and progressive nation, seem to prefer their sons over their daughters and treat daughters-in-law as rivals? And how come some Greek men will always take Mama's side and not Wifey's side. It's all a bit Oediopal, isn't it? Someone enlighten me!

On to more serious matters...

"She was stuck-up because of her grades."
"She lied about the rape."
"The boys are from very good families."
"If she comes here again, no one will speak to her, she will be isolated."
"I say it would be better to lynch her."
"She wasn't all that attractive, I'm telling you she wasn't worth it."
"She was belittling their manhood."
"By saying they knew nothing about sex she was asking for it."

The above are comments from boys at the school where a 16 year old Bulgarian schoolgirl was gang raped by four local boys in Evia, Greece.
I'm very shocked by this and that's why it's up on my otherwise pointless blog. I am planning to make Greece my home, who knows what my future children will be treated like one day if this is the attitude of some teenagers in Greece?
Interested to hear what Greeks think of this.

Image: Corrupted from http://www.allposters.com/-sp/The-First-Rendezvous-Posters_i391532_.htm

Tourists and the Destiny of Teeth

You've probably been wondering why I haven't written anything about my Greek classes, it's actually because I've had no time what with all the homework for two seprate classes etc. No, the truth is that I am just plain lazy.

My language progress goes well, though I must say that the Hellenic American Union classes are pretty hard. I bullied them into letting me attend Intermediate instead of Beginners and it really isn't that bad except we talk Greek the whole time and I didn't realise sentence construction could be so mentally exhausting. My options are:
1) Panic and run
2) Pretend I'm invisible
3) Sacrifice a few braincells in the name on communication.

Yesterday I was finally able to go have a coffee with friends of my own after class. As we walked into the cafe, it was immediately obvious that we were foreigners, maybe because us girls were letting the side down with our comfortable shoes, high-neck sweaters and minimal makeup. Anyway, gazing around the table I had the utmost sense of peace at having found something I had lost since moving to Athens - a social life of my own!
Image: http://www.utdallas.edu/~pjb011000/Tourists.jpg



On to other matters. You have to love the artistic value of how the Greeks talk. The other day I was remarking about how I think I need to see a dentist, much to my irritation and a regime of brushing and flossing. "My teeth should be fine!" I exclaimed. With a shrug, Mr Zeus said:

"This is the destiny of teeth."


Image: Corrupted from http://www.smilemakers.com/Smilemakers/assets/images/rcl14.jpg

Good eating

This week down at the Laiki, you can find sweet potatoes. I have no idea what Greek recipes involve sweet potatoes, but I do know that in the Home Country they were a popular roadside snack which we were forbidden from eating. So here's how you can enjoy of slice of Asian road-side cuisine:

1) Wash a sweet potato and boil it in a pan with its skin still on until you feel a knife easily pass through the centre
2) Cool slightly and peel
3) Slice into thick rounds
4) Sprinkle with salt, chilli powder, fresh corriander and a squeeze of lemon juice
5) Expose to some roadside pollution
6) Enjoy and don't tell mum.

Down with Alitalia!

I have been reading the recent news reports of Alitalia's severe financial problems which threaten to fold the company and I thought "Thank God, why has it taken so long?" I've flown plenty of airlines over the years and the one and only experience I had with Alitalia was so bad I never flew with them again.

In fact, everyone I've talked to who has flown by Alitalia said it was terrible, not one person had had a normal trip with them. Delays, lost luggage, rude staff and phonecalls that never get answered are the top complaints. As someone said: ALITALIA = Always Late In Take-off And Late In Arrival.

Last year I made the mistake flying out for a long weekend to Athens via Milan with Alitalia. Leaving from Heathrow the plane was two hours delayed. Two. Hours. The heavily make-uped staff, who looked like they wouldn't pee on you if you were on fire, told me I wouldn't miss my connection. Of course, I missed it, and got stuck in Milan for a night. Nightmare. Not to mention hell is an in-flight sandwich on Alitalia.

Good riddance, Alitalia!

Plaka mou kaneis?

Early this morning (7:38 am to be exact) I took the Hellenic American Union's placement test to register for their classes next week. I was aiming for Intermediate I. Do you know what my score was? 8 out of 15, meaning Beginners. So I called them up, surely if I can guide a taxi driver home at midnight with my pigeon Greek, I can't be beginner's level.... I can't! Right?

Well, wrong as it turns out. Knowing my ABC counts for jack if I can't remember my accusatives from my nominatives, and three months without Greek class is apparently pretty damaging to your progress. So either I haul myself back to beginners, thereby discounting seven months of Friday night Greek classes in London which destroyed my social life, or I risk humiliation by attempting Intermediate I. That or sign up for the free immigrant classes to get back up to speed. Choices choices...

So as you can see this post has nothing to do with pomegranites. I posted the picture after picking that one from a tree that grows at the back of the flat to console myself and my beginner's standard language skills. Boohoo!

I'll keep you always in my Fridge

While I work I keep the radio on a Greek radio station so I can get some practice exercising my language muscles and mentally translating lyrics in my head. The other day, I was left scratching my head by the following romantic lyrics, which went something like:

"I'll keep you always in my fridge"

Strange, I thought, could this be a lovesong from a psychopath? I consulted Mr Zeus, who fell about laughing at my stupidity. The word for fridge in Greek is psigeio (ψυγειο) which sounds pretty close to the Greek word for soul, psikhi (ψυχη)

Needless to say I felt pretty ridiculous. Now that other song I heard, in which I thought the singer was unhappily declaring that he was closing his fridge forever, also makes sense.


Image: http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38548000/jpg/_38548659_cool-pa150.jpg

Winter in Athens

Well okay, not quite, but getting there. I've been coming to Athens on and off and for two years after deciding to settle here in June this year, so this is going to be the first time I have watched the season changed in the city.

As all Athenians know, we have been experiencing some pretty dramatic weather lately, monsoon style rains and thunderstorms. Why, it's like being back in the Homeland, all I need now is a wet sari. Very nice, we drove up to a bar with one side made of glass and watched the lightening fall a few nights ago. I can't remember the name of the bar, and I wouldn't tell even if I could, since it was great having it all to ourselves while it pelted it down outside.

In my absence from writing I have had a shock to discover that my blog has become strangely popular (sort of) and even more surprised that people are saying nasty things to me like leave Athens if you don't like it. Now now children, if you read the whole blog you'd know that isn't the case, and besides, since I've heard far worse things said by Greeks I think I can safely say that Greece, like any other country has good points as well as bad. I admit that missing my family can at times wear down my patience with living here, but if this blog was only about how wonderful Greece is then you wouldn't have left your comments, would you. Got you there!

On the plus side, I think irritating cold callers will soon completely stop bothering us, because since I work from home, the average once a day junk call gets the following response (in Greek, with names changed naturally)

Me: Hello?
Caller: Kalimera
Me: Kalimera
Caller: Is Mr Zeus there?
Me: No he isn't here right now, sorry.
Caller: Are you Mrs Zeus?
Me: No I'm not
Caller: Is there a Mrs Zeus?
Me: No I'm afraid not. Mr Zeus gets back at 6:30
Caller: Thank you I'll call back then, kalo misimeri
Me: Episis.

Or variations on the above. Sometimes they start asking me questions and I have to come clean that that's the extent of my Greek.

Moths!

Since last summer the flat I'm staying in has been suffering a plague of small moths. Once, we went away just for a weekend and came back to find the air thick with the little creeps.

I invented my own pest control by using the Dirt Devil to hoover up any offending creatures, but as of late their numbers seem to be growing. Just now I was enjoying a nice cup of tea with a packet of Hob Nobs. I love Hob Nobs, with their comforting oaty goodness...

What do I find? Little stringy trails of moth silk across my HOB NOBS!! NOO!!!!! Is nothing sacred?! Eat what you want by the Hob Nobs are off limits you winged spawn of the devil!

Summer in Greece

Last summer, I drew your attention to one singer called Arash, who got zero marks for fashion but full marks for effort and his naff song Boro Boro. Arash has since grown up and now makes swish videos, smooth songs and has gaggles of babes around him, making one think "Boy done good."

But lest we worry about what happened to the cheese shaped hole left behind by the now grown-up Arash, I bring you a song called Summer in Greece by George Mazonakis, with truly terrible lyrics like:

I like your country very much
I like the way you people touch

Surrender to your victory
I like your country's history

What the HELL??!! I knew Greek pop has its blonde moments, but this song is so bad I get nausea every time I hear it.

Today's entry is also dedicated to the other things about Athens that get on my nerves, just for the sake of balance because generally I quite like it here:

1. Post offices and banks closing at 2:00 in the afternoon, boo!
2. Parcels not being delivered to your door and you having to go get them from the post office before 2.00.
3. Taxi drivers
4. Footpaths which are barely big enough to walk on
5. People who park on said footpaths forcing you to walk in the road, where you could be hit by afore mentioned taxi drivers
6. Scary Greek women who present the news done up like glamour models
7. Greasy Greek boys who whistle and make kissing noises
8. Greek disregard for any sort of authority (this is a country of egocentrics)
9. Mysterious lack of fresh coriander - the seeds are easy enough to come by
10. Enthusiastically renting the latest foreign cinema offering to discover there is only one subtitle option - Greek

Enter the Godson

This little stunner is my godson John. He was born yesterday in Athens and I missed it because I'm back in the UK. Isn't he a stunner? If you're looking at this be sure to say ftou ftou!

At last, a Greek who speaks less Greek than me.

P.S....

I forgot to add that yesterday I went and exchanged a pair of pink heels all on my own and all in Greek. Getting there, day by day...

Image: http://www.lewrockwell.com/barnhart/shoes.jpg

The Spice of Life

I am ashamed to have used such a cliched heading, but my creativity is running a little low in this heat today. Apologies also for the badly photoshoped image. Anyway I digress.

Before I left the UK, a movie was released called Mistress of Spices starring Aishwarya Rai. I didn't watch it, as I knew the synopsis and knew that such a movie needed vast doses of passion, of which Aish has as much as a damp dishcloth. In the movie she plays a woman who uses the secrets of spices to help people, because due to some under-the-counter stuff she's probably been at, the spices talk to her to give her advice and warnings.

I don't profess to have such powers, but I do miss the spices I take for granted when they suddenly become so hard to find. I knew they existed somewhere, after all there is a budding Asian community here in Athens which would not be possible without certain staples. Chillies and turmeric are the frappe and feta of the Subcontinent.

My tolerance towards spices plummets every times I spend extended amounts of time in Greece and this time I wanted to maintain my tongue as suitably burnt and my insides nicely scarred. The spices, my little friends from the Hinterland, were tucked away somewhere in this city, beckoning me, talking to my spicy sixth sense "Fiiiind ussss, taaakeee usss hooooomeee, looook booooth waaaays when you cross the rooooaddd. Wooooo!"

So a few days ago, I was taken downtown with the promise of finding all the spices and ingredients I was missing. It was an offer I couldn't refuse, so I went and true enough, an entire labyrinth of spicy delights unfolded, each turn revealing another culinary chum I had pined for.

We got off at Monastiraki metro station and headed to Athinaia Street. My Athenian guide also was careful to instruct me when to speed up my walk past the junkies loitering at corners and passed out in doorways. Junkies, huh? I had just thought they were napping from the heat.

Unsavoury as it may be in one respect, this street is the place to go if you need Asian spices. Even the hard to find items turned up, like aniseed, green cardamom, Chinese gunpowder tea, whole cumin, mustard seed, turmeric, tamarind, small but lethal green chillies and mangoes (pickled, green or ripe). There's even a sweet shop selling jalebis and gulab jamuns if you fancy a sugar rush Asian style. Between these was everything and anything you would need to perfectly preserve a lifestyle from Back Home, from smelly carbolic soap to a Bollywood rental shop. Add to this a sprinkling of greasy haired freshies shouting “Hello! Hello! I love you!” and it feels as authentic as the real deal.

Image: Badly altered from http://www.sxc.hu/photo/279172

Nature's Way

In my belly dance class on Tuesday, as I was revealing my life story and how I ended up in Athens, a lady asked me why I chose Greece, because "Life here is hard."

So far I haven't experienced anything too crumby to make me feel that way. I guess having spent your formative years in a third world country makes you immune to the crap-factor of anywhere with a flushing toilet.

I found another reason last night why I think I've made the right choice to land here in Athens. Being somewhat of a nature lover, I like seeing things looking the way nature intended. That doesn't apply to me, of course, thank heavens for my Venus razor.

Ten years in Britain almost made me forget that tomatoes are not meant to look like freakishly perfect round orbs, that cucumbers don't always grow poker-straight and potatoes come in all kinds of bumpy shapes and sizes. I was in a vegetable shop yesterday evening revelling in how beautifully natural everything was. There were curly courgettes and cucumbers, speckled tomatoes of various sizes but all a delicious sun-ripened red. Pity the fools in Britain who think orange is the colour of a tomato, had I not known otherwise even I'd have thought that.

There was lettuce that was at the end of the season. Yes, stuff is available here in seasons which I don't think is inconvenient at all. It adds to your culinary creativity to make do without when the stuff isn't around and means that when it is aubergine season, the aubergines you eat will be full of flavour. I'm looking forward to eating an aubergine to remember how they're supposed to taste. I've actually forgotten, because I used to hate them and by the time I started liking them I was living in Britain and consuming I-don't-know-what from I-don't-know-where.

There was a box of tomatoes being sold cut-price because they were hovering between rotten and crispy salad fare. Still okay to eat and fine for making red sauces, I was informed. Imagine that!

Image: http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5567/1146/1600/289440_tomato_cuore_italy.jpg

Face the Music and Belly Dance

When I was in London, I used to attend the belly dance classes of Asmahan at Pineapple Dance studios. I admit that I use the word ‘attend’ loosely; I was religious from September to December 2005 and then attended only once in the new year due to self-induced guilt about up-coming university deadlines. Asmahan is from San Francisco, though beloved of Egyptians for mastering the art of Egyptian-style belly dance. In its highest form, Egyptian belly dance is on a par with ballet due to the level of difficulty, grace and control required.

Now in Athens and working from home, it took me the grand total of three weeks to start going a little crazy being cooped up all day. Remember my complaints last year of the agonized warblings of Greek singers and how it grated my nerves? I thought I had grown up a little because it didn’t seem to be irritating me half as much this year. But yesterday I finally snapped. One more crescendo, one more warbling change of key accompanied by the plinkity plink of a bouzouki and I might have killed someone or myself.

So I decided it was time to find a hobby that would remove me from the flat. I picked up where I left off and sniffed out the belly dance classes of Rhea. I threw my belly dance gear into a bag (one chiffon blue skirt, one tribal belt) and headed downtown to the Acropolis. On exiting the metro station I turned the wrong way and couldn’t find the correct street, which gave me a chance to practice my Greek and ask where it was.

After being pointed in the right direction, I found my destination and descended down the stairs of an apartment into some sort of Kasbah containing a small dance studio. Rhea’s classes are much, much smaller than those I had previously been to. Her style is also a world away from the Egyptian style I was used to, and leans more towards Turkish. The spooky thing is she trained with my former teacher Asmahan under the same teacher in San Francisco.

Given my rather ungenerous hip span, Rhea’s Turkish style probably suits me better than Egyptian style, in which bigger hips give you an advantage in the small, controlled movements you have to make. Asmahan’s classes were much tougher and good for taking my mind off things.

I find Rhea’s classes easier, and a fantastic chance to get out of the house and maybe make some new friends. Classes operate on a drop-in basis, so they’re a good way of doing something other than the touristy stuff if you’re in Athens this summer.

Rhea’s Dance Studio is located in 9 Vironos, Plaka
Ph: 210 32 31 289
http://www.daughtersofrhea.com/
Closest Metro: Acropolis (exit and turn left, Vironos is directly ahead of you)
Beginners: Monday and Wednesday 7.00 - 8.30
Tuesday and Thursday 7.30 – 9.00

Image: http://fire.firepixie.com/img/content/bellydance.jpg

Thelo na po...

Any fool who has ever tried to learn Greek knows just what a difficult task it is. I bet most English speaking folk didn't even know what accusative and nominative meant until they took Greek classes.

I've been learning Greek since October 2005 at the Hellenic Centre, London http://www.helleniccentre.org/
My darling sweety of a teacher Xanthipi is excellent, with boundless patience and enthusiasm. With twelve different words for ‘the’ that’s a much sought after trait in Greek language teachers. She also has excellent dress sense and a very cool name. If I were her, I’d prefix it with ‘Princess’.

Expression is very important to me. This is why I know I need to get fluent in Greek and fast. There’s only so far I can get with phrases like ‘Do you know if there is a bakery nearby?’ Of all the trials I had to endure last summer with my antics in Athens, not being able to communicate was by far the most trying. If I were a man, I would equate it to having your bits chopped off. I felt like Samson without his hair, the Little Mermaid without her tail, Beyonce without the jelly… like I’d lost my Magic Powers because I couldn’t make myself understood.

I’ve got about two weeks now before I come to Athens again for a month, then it’s back to the UK to help out with my sister’s wedding (that will take up most of July), so realistically I can’t commit to Greek classes until August.

And they cost a butt load! It’s around £800 for a four-week class in most places! Cheaper is the National & Kapodistrian University of Athens at about €600 for a year’s worth of classes that run September to May http://www.nglt.uoa.gr/money_en.html

But what I’ll lose in money I’ll gain in expression I suppose, and for me any price is worth paying for that.

Image: http://www.1976design.com/blog/images/65a.jpg

My Life! Now with 50% Extra Difficulties FREE!

Some people just never learn. For a start, I should be working on my university deadlines right now and instead I am updating a blog that no one reads with information that no one cares about. If proof were ever needed of just how foolhardy I am, it’s this: I have less than one month left in the UK before I take myself back to Athens. Yes yes, I know I wept (in a virtual sense) over leaving Athens last time, I kind of got to like it there, the thought of going back does raise a question in my mind:

WHY?

Over the course of this blog, I have deliberately revealed very little about myself. To protect the innocent, you understand. Here’s a brief synopsis:

1. Girl is 22 and looking for fun
2. She applies to the Olympics as a volunteer
3. She gets accepted
4. She comes to Athens. On landing, she thinks “My, I thought it would be flat” This is the first shattered illusion
5. She falls in love (with a person, not Athens)
6. She leaves Athens to finish studying
7. She turns 23
8. She returns to Athens for a summer spell
9. She leaves again for the start of term
10. Now she is almost 24 and almost done with studying so love beckons her back to Athens

Yes you cynical fools, all this is for LOVE! You understand, my behaviour is just about the worst thing that could happen to my unsuspecting parents. Girls of my ethnic and cultural background just don’t do this kind of thing, and boy have I paid the price emotionally! I shall elaborate no further… lest my identity be discovered… So now I am back to moaning about Greece and all their hair-brained ways. It’s only temporary, come on, I’m young.

ps: regulars to this blog (ha! if they exist) will notice this post changed. I realised teamed with certain background info plus details of my schedule, any crazy cousin o' mine could take it upon themselves to cleanse the family's honour... kidding! But you never know eh, one stalker is enough for this lifetime.

Don't Cry For Me Athina...

After three months in Greece, tomorrow I board a flight to go back to the UK. It makes me miserable. Sure, Athens is a lot like London in terms of how hectic it can get, bad traffic, pollution etc but it has two major and very vital differences, a) The sun (not the Sun with ladies showing their boobies on page3, London has that) b) the Greeks.

So it's going to be goodbye from one humble participant in everyday Greek life. I bumbled along trying to learn Greek and making hapless trips to supermarkets, almost drowning after just learning how to swim etc. Athens may be insane, dirty and even downright irritating sometimes, but the fact that it's in Greece makes it all better. Sure their economy is crappy, people get paid kotopoulo feed (chicken feed) and there is enough bureaucracy to make you want to throw yourself off the Rion-Antirion bridge, but you can eat out any time of the day or night, you can buy foot-long cinnamon sticks for €2 a bundle and it's home to the goddess Elena.

Athens, I will really miss you. I hope I get to come back soon, next time for good

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Is no one reading this blog? Sob!












Image: http://www.yourchildshealth.com/halert/images/shame105pic.gif

%@!*ing Euro

I'm not someone who parades around cursing and swearing, but even I couldn't help but giggle over the bountiful ways in which the Greeks insult themselves, each other and other nations. Four letter expletives are sprinkled liberaly over all conversations like lemon juice to a main meal. F**k features everywhere, f**k you, f**k your family, f**k your house. W****r is also used in a casual sense, between friends as in "Hey w****r how're you doing?" "Long time no see, w****r!" I don't know how that came about, but no one seems upset about it, unless you say it with a certain emphasis. I need to improve my language skills to be able to understand the melodious string of insults that flows forth at even the simplest of mishaps, it's hilarious. But my personal favourite is a timeless classic. Lest you dare forget that Greece is the best nation in the world ever (only Greeks are allowed to comment on any of its crap aspects) when watching international news reports of, say, the UK or US trying to tell the world what to do, your average Greek might delight you by saying with utmost sincerity:
When we were building the Acropolis you were still living in caves

Image: http://lapsusstili.no.sapo.pt/insults.jpg

We'll always have Athina...

As the sad day of my departure draws closer, today's blog is dedicated to all the things I will miss once I am deposited back on the unfortunate shores of the UK.

Bug Eye Sunglasses:
To the modern Athenian woman, these are as much a part of being a woman as bras and lipstick. Oh the advantages of looking unbercool while gazing at any part of anyone's anatomy undiscovered. I will miss them.
Image: http://static.sky.com/images/pictures/1291242.jpg


Souvlaki:
Nai nai nai... yes my delicious snack, no more shall you delight my tastebuds in the early hours of a warm summer dawn after a night of socialising. You, the true souvlaki, are so abused, mutated and corrupted in the UK that I spent three years of my student life thinking what a great deal I was getting. No more. I can never touch another souvlaki again unless it's in Greece.
Image: http://blogsimages.skynet.be/images/000/188/373_souvlaki.jpg


The Acropolis:
I pass it every day on the bus when I'm going downtown and only a few days ago it hit me just how luck I was to be seeing the Acropolis every day. In the middle of all the modern craziness of Athens, it's like a monument to serene greatness. I love it. It sure beats crappy views of run down bits of London on buses which threaten to explode at any given moment.
Image: http://faculty.eicc.edu/ckrumbein/images/greece%20acropolis.jpg



Koulouri:
Venture to any metro station or random street corner and you're bound to find a koulouri stand selling rings of sesame coated, bready delight to fend off hunger pangs and stuff into the mouths of screaming children. At 50 cents each they're a great way to get rid of spare change. The secret ingredient is the film of pollution covering each one. Mmmm....
Image: http://eudoxos.math.uoa.gr/~designs/pic/koulouri.jpeg


Olive oil:
I'm spoiled for life now. I can never again buy olive oil from a supermarket after the heavenly oils I've sampled in Greece. Fruity indeed.











Devil-may-care attitude to life:
I will miss this most of all. The Greeks like no one else I've ever seen really squeeze every last drop out of what life has to offer and don't apologise for it. Two days ago I was going downtown on a bus when I noticed a man chasing the bus on his scooter blowing kisses to a woman on board, and it struck me as a highly romantic gesture, the sort of thing you do when you're all dolce vitad up. The Greeks have fun, the flirt, they laugh, they get angry, shout and scream, kiss and make up, complain about the Euro, take out bank loans on the pretext of building a house which they then go shopping to Kolonaki with, the men are men and the women exude feminity without feeling threatened by it. Perhaps all this combined is why they live so long.
Image: http://www.jennworks.com/images/dumdeedum.jpg

Hooray!

I almost forgot to mention my biggest triumph of the year. I went shopping to the Athens sales.

And how! Three pairs of very nice jeans for €5 each! And they fit like a dream. One is white full length, the other is white cropped and the third is super fun with colourful stripes and a studded waistband with holes, meaning you have to go commando to wear them.

A small price to pay for looking so good. So that's why women in Athens look so good, the pay is crap here thanks to the Euro, but clothes are so cheap it costs nothing to make an effort! Hooray! Now I have new threads and my hair doesn't look like the woman in this picture. Life keeps getting more and more perefct.

Image: http://www.bloomees.com/images/small-shopping-bags.jpg

Sweet, sugary goodness

There's this singer, right. His name is Sarbel. I can't find a good enough picture online to do him justice but my oh my, what a lovely piece of work he is.

Half Greek, half Lebanese, born on the 14th of May 1982 JUST LIKE ME! His parents still live in London and he's pursuing a musical career in Athens. Hmmmm... there's a hobby to keep me busy on crappy winter nights back in London, hunt down where Sarbel's parents are and deposit myself on their doorstep.

He sings a song with a chorus line that translates to "Save a piece of yourself for me, like chocolate"

Sarbel, my dear man, if you are reading this, why ask for a piece when the entire bar is right here waiting for you.

Let the fur fly!

Okay, I know this blog is all about my summer in Athens and stuff, but how many times can I rub all your noses in my trips to desolate beaches where the only light at night is the complete band of the Milky Way across a shooting-star streaked sky? Or about how I learnt to swim in warm waters where I could see the fish right to the bottom? Or my beautiful tan? Or the great food? You get the idea. So once in a while I shall deviate, and today is one of those days.

Today I'd like to draw attention to these six stick insects, the Pussycat Dolls. They've released a song called "Don't Cha" which basically entails the chorus "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?"

Heck, yes! There isn't a man alive who would say no to that question, and if he does it's only because you his partner are hovering over his head with a shoe, either that or he's gay. Personally, I'd die of shock if you could find me a hot blooded man who would say "No my dear, I do not in fact wish you were hot like her." And where does that leave mere mortals like you and me?

Well, I confess that they're ruining my life is a bit of an exaggeration. I too enjoy a dance along to their pretty danceable tune. But come on ladies, did you really have to ask such a sore question and beam it across hundreds of nations to the ears of thousands of men? Mark my words, this song is responsible for the disintegration of many a relationship.

Thanks for nothing, Pussycat Dolls!

Image: http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5567/1146/1600/PCD001.jpg

For God's sake, where is the frappe!!

I just got back after spending 17 days in Spain with three Greeks. The thing which I learnt is never to separate a Greek from their frappe. Bless their little hearts, necessity really is the mother of all inventions. Here's what to do if you find yourself caught out without an ample supply of cafes where skinny waitresses can serve you endless frappes:

1. 1) Locate your nearest coffee shop
2. 2) Have ready with you an empty water bottle. If you don't, buy a water bottle and tip its contents down a drain
3. 3) Through elaborate sign language, acquire one glass, a few sachets of sugar, a few sachets of coffee, a straw, a glass of ice water and a little milk (optional)
4. 4) Pour sugar, coffee and a little water into the empty water bottle you have prepared.
5. 5) Shake bottle vigorously until you have a creamy light brown concoction
6. 6) Pour mixture into empty glass
7. 7) Top up with ice water, a little milk and a straw
8. 8) Enjoy
9. 9) Compliment your invention loudly so that the Spanish get an idea of what they're missing

10) Complain to each other about how bad the coffee is outside Greece

Ten out of ten for getting around the problem. Oh, and as good as Spain was, I agree that Greek olives are head and shoulders above theirs.

Image: http://www.frappe.cz/images/firma.jpg