My First Greek Adventure

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So, I have decided that the tale of my adventures on the actual night I arrived in Greece, (while it should still, technically be included in my previous post about “the journey” itself, as it is really just picking up exactly where my last post left off), deserves a separate post, all of its own.

When I got off the airplane, I have to admit I was pretty nervous about what was about to happen. I don’t speak any Greek (aside from saying the word for “hello”), and they told us when we left that we would be responsible for finding our own way to our apartments.

And much to my surprise, everything at the airport itself went very smoothly. Both of my bags arrived with me, (despite the fact that we were re-directed on another flight), and getting through “customs” was a joke. There was only one man who looked at my passport, and that was that. No baggage check, no questions. Nothing. Super easy, right? So after I exchanged the rest of the America dollars I had in my pocket for euros, I walked to the pick up area.

There I was met by a team sent from CYA to distribute our (meaning the whole herd of people who had arrived late due to weather difficulties), addresses and keys, (yes- we did not find out where we were living until right then). And to say the least, it was pretty chaotic. All the people there were speaking Greek, and the words were fluttering off their tongues at an alarming rate. I had never really heard people speaking Greek before, and I found that they speak very fast, and never stop. I don’t even know when they had time to breathe, because I did not notice a single one of them stop talking for any fraction of time.

From the little bits of English I could make out between all the Greek flying from every direction, I heard that they had hired private cabs to take us to our apartments, and it was going to cost 35 euro per person to ride. But there were a lot of us, and hardly anyone was living in the same place. Thus, it was rather difficult for them to divide us up to share taxis.

After about 15 minutes of grouping, (and re-grouping) us, they began to herd us all outside, and when we got there, one man just shoved me and another girl into a taxi, even though we were both going to completely different parts of town. And that was where the real fun started.

Our cab driver was a very loud (but friendly) Greek woman, who spoke no English other than the phrases, “no problem!” and “super!” So I handed her my envelope with the address written in Greek on it, and with one very loud, “no problem!” we were on our way.

Driving in a taxi in Athens was in a word: horrifying. And I thought New York was bad! Apparently, (as I officially learned later in our orientation at CYA), Athenians are notoriously awful drivers. In fact, they told us that almost 80% of the deaths that occurred in Athens last year were auto related. So, as long as you stay out of a car you’ll be fine, right? Wrong. Because as a pedestrian, you can get run over in the blink of an eye if you aren’t careful. I have never seen such madness. The roads are narrow, and cars park anywhere they like (including the sidewalks), and drivers will NOT stop (even if they happen to be paying attention—which most of the time they are not.) You aren’t even really safe on the sidewalk! And sometimes, just when I think the coast is clear to go, and the little green man on the sign begins flash, a moped will come speeding out of no where, and I end up frozen in place—stunned really—as it speeds off into the distance, while I continue to struggle to get my breath back. As a CYA student, we are actually banned from driving any sort of vehicle (although Greeks drive on the same side of the road as Americans), and are forbidden to even accept a ride on a moped or motorcycle of any sort. They are so serious about this that they will actually send you home if you do.

Anyway, back to the story. As we sped along on the highway, I was trying my best to just keep my eyes on my feet, as to avoid having a heart attack every time we almost died. But after about 10 minutes of driving, the woman turned her head back to us and shouted, “Athens!” as she spread out her arms toward the right side of the car. And Athens it was. It was beautiful. It was around 8pm, and the city was stretched out below us, glowing. But it only lasted a few short minutes, until we exited the highway, and made our way into the city below.

At this point I thought her driving couldn’t get any worse, but as we entered the heart of the city, I realized the worst was yet to come. Athens is full of very small, twisty streets, and the parked cars line the already narrow streets on both sides (when possible), leaving enough space for one car to pass through with—literally—centimeters to spare. Cars are parked everywhere—carelessly left in any place there is space (including sidewalks, corners, and any other inch of space drivers can find.) I can totally understand the point of “smart cars” now. (Remember how we made fun of them when you were car shopping Sean? Well, now I do know exactly who is that would buy them!)

And, of course, our driver could not find the street my apartment was on, and we had no idea where anything was. I did have a map with my street marked on it, and I tried to show it to the driver. But, she couldn’t speak or read English, so she couldn’t read the map. And I couldn’t read the street signs, (which were written in Greek), so we were pretty much stuck.

So, we drove around Athens for about 45 minutes, weaving between cars and slithering through the side streets, circling round and round trying to find where we belonged. Eventually, the driver began to stop next to people walking on the streets, and would honk her horn, roll down the window and yell at them. The only word I could understand was “Lissipou,” which was the name of my street. Apparently she was trying to get directions. We must have already stopped about 8 people when she decided to stop her car and get directions. But when she pulled over onto the (almost) side of the road, she just got out of her car and walked into a store. She left the car running, windows down, and just walked away. She went into 2 different stores, and when she finally came back she just smiled and said, “no problem!” 5 minutes later, she dropped me off at the door to my apartment.

When I finally got the door to the building to open (Greek door locks and doorknobs are quite interesting…), I didn’t really know what to do. The entire place was very dark, but I could see a set of winding stairs, and what looked like an elevator. On my key it said, “Lissipou, 3rd floor.” I opted for the elevator.

I don’t know if you have ever seen a European elevator (or maybe it’s just like this in Greece), but it was so tiny I took some very strategic planning to get myself, my huge backpack, and two large duffel bags piled in. After I finally got everything stuffed in, and closed the flimsy door, I pushed the button marked 3 and….nothing. Nothing happened. Apparently, the elevator was out of order. So I would have to take the stairs.

The stairs were rather narrow, and it was a winding staircase, and my bags were 44 lbs each, not including the massive carry on backpack on my shoulders. So, I decided to take 2 trips. And by the time I got everything up the stairs, I was panting and sweating and exhausted. (This will be a reoccurring theme in my postings I’m sure, as the entire city of Athens is one giant hill, and my apartment, student center, and academic building classrooms are all on the 3rd floor at the lowest. And apparently, all the elevators in Athens are perpetually out of order.) Not that I mind—I need the exercise anyway! (And I’m sure after living here for 4 months I will have a pretty in-shape lower half at least!)

But when all was said and done, I was there. I had made it to my apartment. And I really like the apartment, but I will write more about that later on. But the best part is, that we are able to tap into someone else’s wireless internet here! We were told when we were accepted to the program that the only internet access we would have was at the computer lab in the academic center, and I was pretty upset about that. But thanks to a stranger who lives in our apartment building, it will be much easier to keep in touch with everyone I love back home! We lucked out majorly with this, as I haven’t met another student yet who also has internet access at home.

But after about 15 hours in airplanes and airports, 2 hours of trying to get where I belonged with a mad woman behind the wheel, and a half hour of lugging 50 pound bags up three flights of spiraling stairs in the dark (yes, I didn’t figure out how to turn on the hallway light until after I was finished hauling both bags), the night was not yet over: I still had to check in at the academic center. Luckily, one of my roommates had just arrived as well, so we took out or maps and headed out.

The academic center is actually very close to where I live (my apartment is in the Pengrati area of Athens, which is closer than the other neighborhood CYA students were placed, called Kolonoki.) It is only about a 10 minute walk, (entirely downhill!—on the way there, anyway. Coming back home is quite a different story!) And we didn’t have any problem finding the center. It is actually right next to the Panathinaiko Stadium, which made it easier to find. But when we got there, they told us we were too late to get checked in, and that we would have to come back the next day to get checked in.

So my roommate decided to go home, and I decided to check out the computer room, to send a few “I made it here alive” emails to my family back home. But ironically, Mrs. Frailey happened to be online when I signed on, and it turned out Sean was home from work (because it was MLK Day), and I got to talk to him! I couldn’t have asked for much more than that! So after I said goodbye to Sean, I walked back to my apartment, unpacked my bags, and went to sleep—happy to have survived my first official day (or rather, days) of Greek adventures.

-Summer Rose