The second week of classes has begun! My schedule has changed slightly:
- Black and White Photography
Our darkroom facilities are...interesting. 5 enlargers in a space barely larger than your average closet, a loading room with a light switch ON THE OUTSIDE, a drying room full of dust....it should be fun. On the other hand, Eric (our teacher) is awesome.
- Philosophy, Life Themes
Less a philosophy class in the classical sense and more a personalized life discussion course. Barry Tagrin, the teacher and director of the whole HISA program, has led a really interesting life and is willing to open up and tell us about it. We talked today about such varied topics as underage abortion, age of consent, cheating/forgiveness, and the concept of god. Fun stuff.
- Creative Writing
Very personalized. I meet with Larry/Barry (both are poets) and George Crane, separately, once a week to discuss my work. So far, they have proven insightful and helpful. I'm hoping to get another short story written in my time here.
- Historical Sites
Don't really have a bearing on this course yet. The first and only class we have taken was essentially a "here is where we're going" sort of thing.
- Theory of Art
I'm torn on this. Its interesting, for sure, but I have been steadily growing away from 'Art' and its criticism since high school. What is interesting about it is that it's taught by a different prof each week, so we should get a fairly varied look at art as a whole.
The island remains beautiful. The sunsets here are unbelievable--they roll in over the ocean with these obscene reds and purples.
On Saturday, we visited the Myceneaen Acropolis above Naoussa as well as circumnavigated a peninsula on the north side of the island. Jarre and I summited the mountain for photos (mine are all analog, so you'll have to wait) and stood on the peak watching the sea spread out from us in turquoises and deep blues. Islands reared up on the horizon, and the sunlight glinted off whitewashed houses crowding their shores. Surprisingly, I didn't burn. A good day.
The strays here are ridiculous. One cat in our complex, once terrified of me, now bothers me constantly for food. I suspect others are feeding and sheltering it.
I walked up to the back gate at 5:30 AM or so last week and found myself face-to-face with a pack of at least 20 dogs, just staring. Back. Away. Slowly.
The island is not quite as safe as we were told, apparently. One girl on our trip was chased by a Rottweiler last week. Another was pushed into a telephone booth by a strange man. Luckily, she had pepper spray on hand (technically illegal in Greece), and fast legs. Some guys in our group took his bike after he stumbled off, clutching his face. I bet he feels silly now!
All in all, life is pretty darn good.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Elias and the Island
Made it to Paros. The island is beautiful -- whitewashed houses, cobblestone streets, little fat hob-leg stray dogs that follow you around. And the cats! They are EVERYWHERE.
Before leaving Athens, Jarre and I went to nearby Monastiraki Square to meet up with our friend Rachel Marks, who is also studying in the city. There, we met Elias:
After first asking the ubiquitous question ("American?"), he proceeded to tell me how much he loved our music. Ringing endorsements of everything from Led Zeppelin to the Beastie Boys to Slayer followed, punctuated by many an "OK!" and "No problem". He even pulled out a Joy Division CD! Here I was, thinking: Hey, this is a pretty cool dude. Also, well-dressed for the sort of guy who seems to spend his time drinking heavily in public places and not shaving for long periods of time. Smelled a bit, too.
Then he started talking about immigrants. I quote: "Now, I am not a racist, but these Arabs, these Africans...they are dirty, you know?" Smile and nod. "Athens...she was so much better 20 years ago before...you know, they started showing up."
He also went on a tirade about how much he hates the Turks. When I asked him more about it, he said, "You know much about the war?" I explained that no, I did not know the details, to which he replied, "eh, no problem. It is in the past. Long time ago." Odd, for a guy who just spent 10 or 20 minutes bashing them.
On Tuesday, we went up to the Acropolis by the Pareanaic Way, the same which the ancient Athenians used to transport their sacrifices to Athena during the annual festival in her honor. Once outside the shop district, I found myself momentarily thinking I was in a very well-manicured Southern California. The weather is near identical and, but for the olive trees, the vegetation as well. We even saw a few prickly pears along the side of the path, though how they got there is anyone's guess.
We arrived (my Lewis & Clark ID card got me half off the ticket price!) and were greeted with this:
Inside, the Parthenon loomed:
According to Cameron, our soon-to-be Historical Studies professor, the Parthenon was fine -- practically in perfect shape -- until Mussolini decided it would be a fine place to store artillery shells. Predictably, they went off, and hence the present ruined state.
As we wandered between these ancient pillars, I couldn't help but think that those stones still standing have done so for at least 10 times longer than we have even had a country. We hold ourselves up as a police force and moral compass for the entire world, and yet, as a country, we are infants compared to a place like Greece. It's sobering, and somewhat worrisome.
Leaving the A-Crop (as we took to calling it), we picked up a few adorable strays. They followed us all the way down the mountain! I wonder if they are smart enough to realize that people dressed differently than the locals are most likely wealthy tourists, and therefore more likely to give them food. They must be doing something right -- they all seem impeccably groomed and well-fed.
Spent a few hours eating lunch at a small cafe. The Greeks (and, from what I understand, Europeans in general) have no sense of hurry whatsoever. I'm reminded of Douglas Adams' maxim that "Time is an illusion, and lunchtime doubly so."
Next time: More about this paradisaical little island. Τα λέμε!
Before leaving Athens, Jarre and I went to nearby Monastiraki Square to meet up with our friend Rachel Marks, who is also studying in the city. There, we met Elias:
After first asking the ubiquitous question ("American?"), he proceeded to tell me how much he loved our music. Ringing endorsements of everything from Led Zeppelin to the Beastie Boys to Slayer followed, punctuated by many an "OK!" and "No problem". He even pulled out a Joy Division CD! Here I was, thinking: Hey, this is a pretty cool dude. Also, well-dressed for the sort of guy who seems to spend his time drinking heavily in public places and not shaving for long periods of time. Smelled a bit, too.
Then he started talking about immigrants. I quote: "Now, I am not a racist, but these Arabs, these Africans...they are dirty, you know?" Smile and nod. "Athens...she was so much better 20 years ago before...you know, they started showing up."
He also went on a tirade about how much he hates the Turks. When I asked him more about it, he said, "You know much about the war?" I explained that no, I did not know the details, to which he replied, "eh, no problem. It is in the past. Long time ago." Odd, for a guy who just spent 10 or 20 minutes bashing them.
On Tuesday, we went up to the Acropolis by the Pareanaic Way, the same which the ancient Athenians used to transport their sacrifices to Athena during the annual festival in her honor. Once outside the shop district, I found myself momentarily thinking I was in a very well-manicured Southern California. The weather is near identical and, but for the olive trees, the vegetation as well. We even saw a few prickly pears along the side of the path, though how they got there is anyone's guess.
We arrived (my Lewis & Clark ID card got me half off the ticket price!) and were greeted with this:
Inside, the Parthenon loomed:
According to Cameron, our soon-to-be Historical Studies professor, the Parthenon was fine -- practically in perfect shape -- until Mussolini decided it would be a fine place to store artillery shells. Predictably, they went off, and hence the present ruined state.
As we wandered between these ancient pillars, I couldn't help but think that those stones still standing have done so for at least 10 times longer than we have even had a country. We hold ourselves up as a police force and moral compass for the entire world, and yet, as a country, we are infants compared to a place like Greece. It's sobering, and somewhat worrisome.
Leaving the A-Crop (as we took to calling it), we picked up a few adorable strays. They followed us all the way down the mountain! I wonder if they are smart enough to realize that people dressed differently than the locals are most likely wealthy tourists, and therefore more likely to give them food. They must be doing something right -- they all seem impeccably groomed and well-fed.
Spent a few hours eating lunch at a small cafe. The Greeks (and, from what I understand, Europeans in general) have no sense of hurry whatsoever. I'm reminded of Douglas Adams' maxim that "Time is an illusion, and lunchtime doubly so."
Next time: More about this paradisaical little island. Τα λέμε!
Monday, March 1, 2010
From Syntagma Square...
Since my laptop pretty much needs to be plugged in to function, I'm writing this on my iPhone...
From in front of the Greek parliament! Apparently the only place in town with free wi-fi. Pretty awesome. Apparently this joint is where the recent riots go down. The polizia have a nice habit of pepper spraying the crowds.
The trip in was pretty easy, despite the length. 20 odd hours, all told, from San Diego to Athens. Surprisingly, I slept great the first night and felt pretty awesome yesterday, but my luck did not hold last night, and I found myself staring at the ceiling of my hostel at 4 in the morning. Oh well.
Wrote this on coming in:
One gets the impression on entering Athens of descending onto a series of canyons. At first, you're on a pretty American-looking freeway, but soon these rough rock walls and graffiti covered dividers (and oh, what graffiti!) rear up on either side. The city streets wind between multi-level balconied aparment buildings. Nothing is parallel. But from the right spots, you suddenly catch a glimpse of the great rock of the acropolis, lit up in the sky like a the burning gates of heaven itself.
Anyway, this is a lame iPhone post, but Coming Up Next: the story of a delightful drunk chap named Elias I met in manistiraki square yesterday. There will be pictures!
From in front of the Greek parliament! Apparently the only place in town with free wi-fi. Pretty awesome. Apparently this joint is where the recent riots go down. The polizia have a nice habit of pepper spraying the crowds.
The trip in was pretty easy, despite the length. 20 odd hours, all told, from San Diego to Athens. Surprisingly, I slept great the first night and felt pretty awesome yesterday, but my luck did not hold last night, and I found myself staring at the ceiling of my hostel at 4 in the morning. Oh well.
Wrote this on coming in:
One gets the impression on entering Athens of descending onto a series of canyons. At first, you're on a pretty American-looking freeway, but soon these rough rock walls and graffiti covered dividers (and oh, what graffiti!) rear up on either side. The city streets wind between multi-level balconied aparment buildings. Nothing is parallel. But from the right spots, you suddenly catch a glimpse of the great rock of the acropolis, lit up in the sky like a the burning gates of heaven itself.
Anyway, this is a lame iPhone post, but Coming Up Next: the story of a delightful drunk chap named Elias I met in manistiraki square yesterday. There will be pictures!
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