It's Greek to me

Let's get Greece-y.

Better late than never, but I had a very important chowra to snuggle up with the past almost week - miss you already girl, times a milly. There was no time for such abstract concepts as "blogging" when apparently I live in an awesome city with a trillion places to eat slash drink slash be merry. It was glorious. But I will save that for the next post, so as to travel in a somewhat chronological blog-order.

So, Greece. My trip (which lasted from November 26th to December 1st - thanks, Kurban Bayramı!) was mostly good, and rarely bad.

Essentially I will look back fondly on this mini-vacation to Yunanistan (Greece to the Turks) as a vacation from getting hollered at. I realized while chatting with Moira (whoops already incorporating the future blogosphere into this one) that while getting hollered at definitely happens elsewhere, in the here and now I live my life just waiting for the next bout of unwanted attention. Elsewhere (read: previous living locations), the disrespecting happens far enough between for me to rather forget that it even exists, to a certain extent. Too real?

What I'm trying to say is that I romped about Athens, was chatted to in Greek on the regular, and was straight up locals-onlyed. On the train from Thessaloniki to Athens, this old woman scream-asked me the time in Greek and was shocked/offended when I could not answer. Surprise surprise, someone thought I was Greek. So that moment was definitely a preview of my Athens-experience to come, yaheard? Getting ignored has never felt so sweet, seriously so.




Above is my first view of Greece proper, as I was jolted out of the sleepzone during "PASAPORT KONTROL! PASAPORT KONTROL!" The second picture is the next morning when I woke up for real and we were cruising through the countryside, en route to Thessaloniki. It was so bright and glorious not only that morning but every day until the foggy ass day that I left! Finally in Thessaloniki - another case of "better late than never", thanks to taking FOREVER at the border (we stopped for over an hour on both the Turkish side and the Greek side) - I entered the crowded station only to learn that I could either pay 50 plus Euro for a train leaving that second or wait five more hours for a train that would cost 20 something Euro. I chose the immediate one because I had no way of communicating with Devin and I was already in go go go mode! Why was it 50 plus, you may wonder? Because of first class, yeaaaah! I got served the best coffee of my life (aaight aaight my standards are a bit lower) and some supremely delicious cake!

When I rolled up to Athens at last, I was greeted by Devin and we were essentially wearing the same thing. This twinsie-ness will maybe be even more hilar when I make the Moira Mems post. By the by, it really didn't matter that it took forever because not only was the Turkish sleeper train heck of lux, but it was also so empty soooo I got hooked up with a cabin all to myself! There was even a mini-fridge! Too bad I didn't have the insight to purchase some brews. Next time, next time. The luxuriousness of the Turkish sleeper train was sure a sharp contrast to the Greek sleeper train on the way home. The Greek ones were way older, and the cabin was so significantly smaller that the sink folded away (?) and there was a huge hole in the floor, covered by soggy carpet. Well, beggars can't be choosers but once I tasted the baller life I was a little grossed out.






1. Twinsies. Totally fine.
2. Always sick graffiti! - this one snapped in a, uh, poorer neighborhood that I was lost in for a lil bit.
3. Gnarly hunger strike camp!
4. Me on top of the world, or at least Athens, am I right here people?
5. Parthenon and on and on!

The first night I got a taste of some Greek beer and ate a Greek salad...I bet it wasn't called that there, huh? My memory is failing me in my old age, but anyway. The second day my expert tour guide and I peeped the Parthenon and then later I did some solo-exploring. I ended up at some mysterious camp where there were four bros hunger striking. After circling the camp for like ten minutes, I finally mustered up the courage to waltz over and see what was up. I chatted with one of them for a spell and learned his life story (he was from Iran, and had a perma-refugee status card that was now getting rejected). I think the biggest impression that whole thing had on me, aside from the dude's story of course, was the fact that there was no police supervision at all anywhere around them. And they were camped on the GD lawn of a major government building! All of my time in Greece was spent comparing my surroundings/experiences to Turkey, and this was obviously no exception.








1. What?
2. Dev Mc. I will steal this shirt from you.
3. The Parliament building and 1,000 of our closest tourist friends.
4. Feelin' your outfits, babies.
5. Graffiti for days!
6. Traipsing/tromping/etc. over some ruins.
7. No big deal, just my favorite chips in the world.

The next day, Devin and I woke up early-ish to go see the major changing of the guard at the Parliament building. Let me just say: their outfits are too cute to be believed. Totally down. Afterward, I went and hung out in a gorgeous park for a bit, and then went to a couple of more sweet museums. Somewhere during that I found and ate salt and vinegar chips (my favorite flavor of chips, obvi) until I couldn't feel my lips. Gelato! Salt and vinegar chips! Mineral water everywhere! Weird doughnut things! Dankest "apple pie" (see below)! Beer at every kiosk opened all night! Pork!: you really can have it all...in Greece.

The following morning I woke up and caught my train to Thessaloniki. But not before a parting gift from Athens: sweet mosquito bites all over my face, one of my eyelids included! As a bonus present, the bathroom light at Devin's was broken that last morning so I did not realize until I entered the elevator that it looked like I was on the losing side of a fist fight and/or a doorknob (May House reference). FYL 4 Life, mosquitos. I caught my train in time, and then had a chat with this girl who was sitting in my seat. And by had a chat I mean, she chatted at me in Greek and I stared at her and sat in a different seat, while she and this other bro played footsie for the four or five hour long trip. Vom. I started and almost finished the book Sangeeta sent me for my birthday (smooches, girl) which was way good.

I had one goal in Thessaloniki during my layover: peep Ataturk's house of birth. I stowed my bag in a locker at the train station (not before I was asked for assistance, in Greek) and got walking - in the wrong direction. I saw some crazy gorgeous churches and am now quite familiar with the industrial area of the city. Finally, I hailed a cab and am now quite thankful that I wrote the address down in Greek. With my few Euros remaining, I nervously watched the meter and got a nice little mini-tour of Thessaloniki from out the taxi window. The taxi bro abruptly stopped, and I got out and walked in the direction he pointed. Definitely not there and time was running out! Luckily, I found it finally and did a lil dance when I did. The house is now within the same gated area as the Turkish Consulate. Two for the price of one! I finally found the gate and buzzed in and had a conversation like this (in Turkish):

Bro: Welcome.
Me: Uh, hello, is the museum open?
Bro: Yes.
Me: Okay, can I come in?
Bro: Yes.
Me: ...
Bro: ...
Me: Uh, how do I go about doing that? (thinking: do I need to scale the fence or what here people?)
Bro: (5 minutes later) I'll be right out.

Anyway, essentially Atatürk's house was the craziest "museum" I've ever been to. The dude finally came out and told me he needed my passport. I didn't feel like digging into my secret pocket for that so I handed him my Turkish ID card, which worked just fine. Simul with that, some other Turkish bro (ends up he's a captain who just got in for the night) is walking by, sees that it's okay to just provide the ID card, and joins me. Cost: free dollars. Our IDs are confiscated, our bags checked, metal detector, and then we're told to meet our guide in the garden in five minutes. A different guy comes out, unlocks the front door, and rather hastily gives us an explanation as we romp up and down the stairs. So completely unlike any museum experience I've ever had, but awesome never the less. Now I have officially been to Atatürk's place of birth (Thessaloniki), place of death (Dolmabahçe Palace), and resting place (Anıtkabir, Ankara). Things are getting wild.







1. Hello, gloomy Thessaloniki.
2. Atatürk's house!
3. & description
4. Thank you, Turkish sea captain, for this sweet picture. Note to self: buy clothes that I am not taking a swim in.
5. Atatürk was born here, mmmmk.
6. A dank as ffff way to end my Greekness.

I romped around Thessaloniki for a little bit, before finding some hole in the wall restaurant to spend my last couple Euros on dinner and, as it turned out, dessert. Dessert was wow wow wow wow WOW - the dude translated it to me as "apple pie", but it was so much more. Perhaps thanks to all of the layers of powdered sugar on it. Nom nom nom. Still dreaming about it. Essentially, I ordered it because the 500 pound Greek guy in front of me ordered it and I thought, "I bet he knows what's up". He did. Chased it with just one more brew and rolled over to the train station to head back "home".

On that note: traveling to Greece made me realize just how much Turkey does in fact feel like "home", to the extent that that's even possible. I can operate here, I can have lil conversations, and I sometimes even know my way around. I went into my Greece trip blindly - I could not, and still cannot, say even one word in Greek...that's real talk. I had no maps, no nothing. It was an adventure of the best sort (okay maybe not knowing one word of the language isn't necessarily the dream but all the other aspects were kickin'), and it offered me clarity in a major way. I came back, went straight to work (as you can imagine, the train was also 2+ hours late on the way back), and am already dreaming and scheming for the Next Big Thing.

Kisses,
!

XXIII

Oh dang, I almost DIYed a month-long holiday called "No-bloggin' November". But it looks like I was able to get my shit together just in time. A lot/a little has happened. Depends how you look at it. In summary, every single day is an adventure - whether that adventure be really awesome, or really nah-some. On certain days when things are aligned just right, I have simul excellent/horrible adventures (your Turkcab for the day: "MACERA!"). This paragraph needs more slashes yes/no? A couple things:

I. Dang, Devin. So, for a little bit now I've been attempting to figure out the best way to visit my friend Devin during Kurban Bayramı (note: this freakend). He is currently studying abroad in Athens. Originally, obviously, I was going to purchase a plane ticket, and I watched as every single day the prices fluctuated in a major way. Simul with that, I had just set up a bank account here and was waiting for my debit card, etc. To cut a long story short, the prices kept rising and I continued to not have my new card so, no plane ticket. After considering my other options of taking the train, the bus (cue flashbacks of my Bulgaria to Hungary bus trip), or walking, I headed down (down? over!) to the train station on the European side Sunday after work. Note: in the photo above, I had just cruised over on that ship on the left. Which is probably (nah, def) one of my favorite activities in the world.

I found the international ticket office easily enough, and was surprised and delighted at the adorable old man working the desk. I told him that I wanted to buy a ticket to Greece for Wednesday night, to which he informed me that there is currently a problem with the Wednesday train but that it should be resolved and that I could simply call on Wednesday and be placed on the reservation list, NO PROBLEM, then come in Wednesday night and giddy on up. He then writes down the "direct" phone number for me. I was a tad skeptical, which I think he could tell. "No, don't worry, we'll wait for you," he says. Oh.

Today, Tuesday, I reflected back on the helpful gentleman and decided it was probably worth double checking on everything. I decided, given my aaaaight Turkish skills, that I would have one of the super nice teachers at my school help me. So, she went ahead and called the "direct" number I was given on Sunday only to be met with recording after recording after recording. I found the teacher that helped me in an office I had never been in before, and was introduced to two new teachers in the process. By the time she finally got through to someone, the other two teachers were also helping by writing down numbers, offering suggestions, etc. The train station informed her that the broken Wednesday train was still broken, and that the Thursday train was full. FML.

So, what then? The bus? She finally got through to one of the two bus companies that serves Athens and we learned that the next bus leaves Friday morning and gets in Saturday morning - like, REALLY morning, like 4:30 in the morning kind of morning. Nah uh. "Well, I guess you're here for the holiday," one of the teachers says to me. Then we get to talking as I stumble along in Turkish, and she asks me what train station the train leaves from. She assumed Haydarpaşa (azn side). I informed her that no, in fact it only leaves from Sirkeci, in Europa Europa. "Really? I have an uncle that is in charge there," she tells me, and before we know it we're off. She calls her uncle, who gives her another number, and another then another, and she's making calls and receiving calls. As it turns out, they reserve a cabin for people high up at the train station, and before I knew it I got a seat on the "full" Thursday train. REALLY. Now, I have to go tomorrow and buy my ticket which is under some dude I have never met in my life's name, who is a big shot at the train station.

ABRIDGED VERSION: Today three teachers total were helping me try to get to Greece, two of whom I had never met before. One of those two ends up having an uncle that works at the train station and hooks me up with a ticket on an otherwise full train. Mind: blown. Knowing people here is really actually crucial/helpful, something which becomes extremely apparent on days like today.

So, if everything goes according to plan, I will be kickin' it with D. Mc in no time! Haven't seen his face since August, and this time our faces are about to be hell of Greek together for a couple of days. The bro to the left to the left:



II. Moira Memories. I am super excited about my brief holler @ Devin/Athens, and on top of that I will be reunited with lil Chowrita Supreme only a few days after I return! I may not have seen Devin since August (it's been three months already? Seems like 1,000 years more than that) but I haven't seen Moira since last August, like August 2008. Which is insane. So, essentially, after the last few months of rather self-imposed solitary confinement (some exceptions of course) I am about to take some sweet friends to the dome. Moira will be in my arms for almost a week !!! Of course, I will have to work a bunch of those days, but we will have the nights. OH, we will have the nights.

I had a hard time choosing the sweetest picture of just the two of us (we can make it if we try) so I selected perhaps one of the most hilarious. Do you remember this gem? Of course you do:


Thanks, Glenn P.

III. Today was Teachers' Day which involved a lot of sweets, flowers, and amazing notes from students. One student wrote me a long card which told me that I was as beautiful like her mom. What. The school gave me a really nice white scarf. Perhaps they are trying to introduce something non-black into my wardrobe, since apparently according to one of my favorite second graders that's all I wear. Direct quote: "Is your favorite color black? Every time I see you you're wearing black." Little kids...real talk.

IV. More random things. Before my birthday, I was pretty not looking forward to it, to be honest. But, it ended up just perfect. I ate two OUTRAGEOUSLY dank cakes, received lots of posi hollers, got a new BLACK shirt (take that, second grader) from the aforementioned super nice teacher, epic video chattin' with the most wild haired boy in all the world, and topped it all off with a huge beer and double rakı, courtesy of DRL.

I've got more, like always, but I'm forgetting what, like always. Hopefully I'll update this business sooner rather than later, but no promises. I think I'll end with this fantastic observation from a teacher at my school a couple of days ago: "Have you ever been to Long Island? It's really long. Too long!" Too true.




A. Taken from upstairs at the "brewery" Dan and I hollered at a few weeks back, where I was lucky enough to give the award for Worst Poured Beer In History. Aside from that, just hustlin' hustlin' in Taksim.
B. Galata Tower, etc.

Kisses/misses, obvi,