Tourists

Waves on the Seine look artificial
Handheld Eiffel Towers sold
A city shaped and superficial
Painted statues swathed in gold

And then there is the other city
Where Parisians shop and dine
One elegant instead of pretty
Where we cross a secret line

I watch a boat pass down the river
Inside tourists dressed the same
A cold wind blows, a tiny shiver
Matching shirts, Paris for shame

A garden grown, a subtle wink
A glitzy meal, a pretty show
A dandelion, I should think
Where chic, red poppies grow.

Running is Normal

I just returned from my first run in Paris. It was, in a word, incredible. The best run I've had in nearly a year. Not one person looked at me like I was crazy... in fact, people SMILED at me AND other people were running. I'm not kidding. I was not the only runner. There were men running and women running. There were slow runners and fast runners. There were people. Running. Now, to everyone but a select few that sounds normal, but I seriously have never seen anyone running in Corinth and it is such a relief to be somewhere where A) running is normal and B) there are nice places to run. (I ran in this beautiful hilly park with a pond and flowers and birds and trails.) mmm, exercise and a society that appreciates it. 

At the end of my run (I will note at this point I was wet with sweat, panting and my hair was wildly frizzy) there was this guy (my age more or less) walking towards me and when he saw me he opened his arms and smiled like he knew me. (Now, I think I know two people under the age of 30 in France and one of them is 14 so there is no way he knew me, but I didn't really think about that in the moment) So I stopped and he said something to me in French... and I started talking to him in Greek. And I didn't do it on purpose, it was just the only language I could get out of my mouth. Like anyone in France speaks Greek. Especially grammatically incorrect, heavily accented Greek. So then I sort of recovered and said "I don't speak French" in French and then he asked what languages I do speak and I answered, again, in Greek. (On a side note, one thing that being around so many foreign languages has done is really trained me to read people. If I just understand one word I can often figure out what someone is saying just by context and body language and the similarity of words to other words in other languages I may know. I've noticed this with Russian. I only know a few words and some phrases, but I can often figure out what Alex and his mom are talking about when I listen carefully. When I say often, I mean sometimes.) So anyway then the guy asked for my number and I smiled and said "non, merci" and ran off. 

I think I'll take a shower now.

Oh France

After long hours of waiting I finally arrived in Paris yesterday at around three, Paris time. (Which reminds me, I must correct my first blog post that says Greece is GMT +2. Since the time change it is GMT + 3.) It felt like the longest damn plane ride of my life (although, obviously, it was not) and I was very happy to see grandpa and Ellen waiting at the end of the long moving sidewalk (is that what they're called?) for me in Orly. I sort of felt like I was coming home, which is odd since I don't think I've ever lived in Paris, but I suppose it has become somewhat of my home base recently. 

So I spent yesterday drinking red wine, (when I first typed it I wrote it in Greek without even thinking. I think red wine is the word I use third often after 'thank you' and 'yes') napping and eating delicious food. The food here is exactly what I would choose to eat if I could cook. I men exactly. Delicate salads. Ratatouille. Sesame seed crusted salmon. And now I'm drinking hot water with lemon because that's what Ellen drinks in the morning and I wanted to try it. I like it, actually. Better than lemon tea.

So basically I really don't have much to report, but I'm thrilled to be here (and, as some of you will understand, I am happy to be somewhere where I don't have to turn on my hot water or throw TP in a trash can) and the only thing that weighs on my mind is that I miss Alex an awful lot... and once you get used to cuddling every night it is difficult to break the habit. Will update later. For now... coffee. 

airport post

I am writing this from the airport, although I won’t post it until later since wireless costs 4.20 euros for 30 minutes which wouldn’t even be worth it if I were stranded on a desert island with no way to communicate to the outside world.

My plane is late and I got here too early so I have almost 2 more hours to dawdle, which is OK since I’m pretty much just relived to have made it. I always worry when relying on Greek public transportation. I also always worry when relying on myself to get on the right train. When you’re going to the airport though you can usually just follow people with big suitcases. There was this adorable German couple that rode with me from Corinth and I was incredibly impressed at their ability to navigate Prostiako. I’ve been taking the train for three quarters of a year and my train-related Greek is pretty good (ie: I can ask “where is this train going?”) and I still can’t figure my way around. I guess it would be easier if I spoke English to get directions, but I’m stubborn. The guy who is always at the ticket booth in the morning thinks my Greek is much better than it is so he explains to me where to go and I smile and say “I understand” when really I understand every third word. Which, to my credit, is usually enough. But anyway, I had Alex and Socrates come to the station yesterday anyway to find out how to get to the airport, how long the ride would be and let me know if there were going to be any transportation strikes in the near future, just for peace of mind.

But, regardless, I made it. I’m sitting in the semi-industrial looking gate B7 waiting area. There are three other people here, and everyone is dead silent. When I went through security I wanted to pretend I was a tourist so I pretended not to understand any Greek they spoke to me… even stuff I would have been able to figure out if I were a half-wit foreigner. Like "ehete laptop?" 

I have a splitting headache. Like a really bad didn’t sleep/drank too much last night/recovering from a terrible illness kind of sick. And I took my trusty ibuprofen out of my purse because I thought maybe security would think it was some kind of illegal drug I was smuggling across the EU borders. Ah well. I’m going to go read the book Joanna was reading in this airport about 3 months ago on our way to Paris. Airports are significantly less fun alone.

pictures: the Gulf of Corinth and Alexander (agapi mou)

Goodbyes

Today is my last day in Greece for a whole month. I spent the day, so far, packing and reading and lying in the sun. Now I'm waiting for Angeliki to call me (how much do you want to bet she won't call... Natalie? Laura?) about a job interview at a school near Corinth for the summer. Sweet Socrates has offered to drive me there if she bothers to call. Thank Zeus (did I get that from you, Joanna?) someone around here has a car. 

Tonight Alex and I are meeting Jessica for some goodbye-for-a-month drinks. We're going to avoid the tequila and outrageous tabs this time. It took me until recently to realize how much I relied on men to buy me drinks in college. Now if a guy buys me  drink it is my boyfriend and that's basically the same as me buying my own drink... and I can't afford to be buying any drinks right now. We're lucky we could pay the electricity bill this month. (Which is outrageous because of Apokries. Apparently when the city uses a lot of electricity for a holiday they just split the costs among electricity-payers. So instead of a 20 euro bill we had a 40 euro bill. I didn't even enjoy Apokries. And the light-up clowns up and down the street were just creepy.) 

Well I'm going to go get myself together. Wish me luck tomorrow. I'm worried the reliable (ha) Greek train system won't be so reliable. I will pray to the Prostiako gods. 

(this post is dedicated to all the men that have spent their hard-earned money on getting me drunk)

My First Real Blog Post Thingie

So. It is 2:35 AM GMT + 2. (What is NH? GMT -something? I just realized I have no idea.) I can't sleep so I thought I'd blog. How modern of me, right? I'm sitting on a chair wrapped in a fleece blanket listening to Alex snore softly across the room. He's sick. We're both sick. I have never in my life been sick so often as I am in Greece. Anyway, more setting: There is a tavli board to my left. I've become sort of obsessed with tavli (backgammon in English). It is a nice little break from life for a few minutes. I suggest you all purchase tavli boards and learn to play. To my right is a fan. I'll admit we haven't used it yet, but just the fact that we have a fan out in March (okay, April 1st now) makes me pretty happy. Not that I don't miss the snow... but I've been damn happy with March in Greece. 

Anyway, on Wednesday I leave for France for a few weeks to visit my grandparents. I am very excited. I haven't yet purchased my return ticket but I think I'm going to stay about a month. Play around in Paris and then we're going to go down to Corsica. I hope it will give me some time to get my head together and do some writing. I've had this image in my head for ages of sitting on a bench at the Louvre (or on the floor like an art student) and writing poetry about art. Not like the Mona Lisa, but half-obscure art that no one really pays attention to. And then, I will go drink coffee at a cafe and there will be no instant coffee on the menu and I will be happy. (And also, and this is for you Joanna, I will go running and NO ONE WILL STARE AT ME LIKE I HAVE SIX HEADS.) 

So that's pretty much my plan for April. I'm really looking forward to spending some time in France that isn't rushed and hectic. Although I do have an absolute ton of work I need to get done plus I want to start studying for the LSATS... but hey, a month is a long time... right? 

Cheers, loves. Will write more tomorrow! This is fun!