I'm living in a postcard. But its not merely the beauty of this country that has made me enjoy Greece so much. A country on the precipice of change, Greece blends the ancient with the modern. The architecture is sun baked and flaking, paint peeling from years of scorching Grecian summers. But at the same time there's a vigorous energy to the city led by their recusant youth. I found myself in the midst of a general buzz everywhere I went. I missed the newsworthy protests by two days but I could still sense the momentum it had stirred. There have been cities in Europe where I've felt this dichotomy of the old and the new but nowhere was it more visible then in Athens. Accompanied by two Canadian sisters I met, we took on the Acropolis our first day there. Despite the engulfing throngs of tourists, the experience still inspired awe. You can actually feel the age of the stone under your feet. Its slippery smooth surface sanded down by innumerable footsteps makes the possibility of breaking one's ass very high. The climb itself wasn't too arduous despite the 29 degree dry heat. Maybe the heat only seemed to be an afterthought because of the amount of sights that held my immediate attention. The Parthanon and theatre of Dionyses were my favourite of the lot but they were only a few of many. The view alone from the summit would have been enough for many though. Getting back to the people of Greece itself, I guess I can best explain them through an interaction I had at a bar later that night. Being pretty green in my knowledge of the city, we decided to head out of the hostel and try to let our ears guide us to a spot. We ended up following a trail of Michael Jackson to a grungy bar down a side street. I want to be clear that when I say grungy I don't mean seedy or dangerous but rather, raw or unpretentious. The interior felt similar to a house party just before it gets busted by the cops. The patrons were drunk but playful. There wasn't any of the bullshit machismo or crying girlfriend crescendos that I've come to hate in North America. Just genuine people having fun; with ouzo. Ouzo, for the unfamiliar is an alcoholic beverage distilled from the sweat of Lucifer. It will fuck you without foreplay, steal your wallet and say obscene things about your mother. But I digress. Getting back to the Greeks, there was a particular moment when we were chatting outside when a guy approached me and asked how I heard about the bar. Evidently, we had stumbled upon a local spot and were coming off as painfully Canadian. I was waiting for the inevitable territorialism to come next, but instead he just smiled and said welcome to Greece. This exchange seemed to encapsulate the attitudes of every Greek we encountered, consistently helpful and congenial (With the exception of one experience which must be recounted in person, involving physical gestures and necessary impersonations). For people who have been posited into such dire financial situations by their government I was amazed at their positive outlook. Now I'm not going to be so arrogant as to think that I've seen the true underbelly of Greek society in a week, but I can only comment on my experience. Tourists will never fully penetrate the layers of stoicism and forced hospitality to reach the full truth, but I can confidently say that I never felt that my presence was oppressive in some way. Maybe they were just happy to see that not everyone had dismissed Greece as having nothing to offer. And really if one were to do an inventory of the mouthwatering food, azure water, beaches, history and nightlife of the place, you'd have to be insane to write it off. Just go to Greece already you asshole.
