...Modern Greek life is rubbish
Here's another recent article with helpful insight into modern Greek life, this time sent to me by a Greek-Aussie (thanks Chris). It was written two weeks after the aforementioned killing of Alexi.
The tone is very pessimistic, though perhaps also true, but let me say clearly that we do not think modern Greek life is rubbish. There are many wonderful aspects to life here, and many redeeming features to counter the descriptions in this article. But it is a good illustration of the wide-reaching effect of sin, and the lack of a solution outside of the gospel. Have a read - it's very short:
http://www.ekathimerini.com/4dcgi/_w_articles_columns_2_19/12/2008_103180
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Some journalistic comment on Greece
I read the following article in a fairly new English language paper in Athens and some of the comments struck me - that was the day before the killing of the teenager that sparked all the rioting and demonstrating that you probably heard about leading up to Christmas. I thought I'd scan it and post it here - I'm sorry but I couldn't find an online version to link you to. Have a read for a journalist's take on contemporary Greek life - and as far as we can see, the complaints outlined here apply well to the events that transpired immediately after this being printed.
10 million characters in search of an author
Greece's tragedy is that it does not have modern tragedians - playwrights who can encapsulate in a few tight, merciless images the full glory of the madness that reigns in our public life. Without such an omnipotent intelligence to put things in order, we are left to struggle with the disparate images that keep rushing at us haphazardly, without protagonists but only miserable players piling up one on top of the other, without any semblance of order, without any tragic dignity. Each great story, which could be the stuff of parable, flies past like a series of incoherent images on a television screen, being replaced by the next object of mass hysteria before any lessons are drawn, before pity and terror can lead to any kind of catharsis.
The drama of the season has concerned the allegations, investigations and revelations concerning the very worldly real estate dealings of the monks of the Vatopedi Monastery on Mount Athos. This is the stuff of great drama, with initial claims of political influence being brought to bear on the state machinery to the benefit of the monks leading, in fits and starts, to revelations of wheeling-and-dealing that would not be out of place at the Vatican at its most conspiratorial best or in Umberto Eco's "Name of the Rose." (We all remember the case of "God's banker," Roberto Calvi, chairman of the Vatican-controlled Banco Ambrosiano, who was found hanging under Black-friars Bridge in London in 1982. A shroud of mystery still hangs over this story, even though Italy has no shortage of playwrights and filmmakers capable of making dark sense of it all.)
Here we have a handful of monks who set up a network of offshore companies (or, as they say, non-offshore companies, as they were based in EU member Cyprus) to buy and sell land that the monastery took control of after a conspiracy of (alleged) political and judicial favors resulted in the Vatopedi Monastery's ownership of a large tract of useless land around a protected lagoon being exchanged for very valuable properties that could be used for housing development. Supreme Court prosecutor Giorgos Sanidas, who did the work investigative journalists in this country will not, ordered a judicial investigation, saying that the state may have lost 100 million euros in the deal. The nation has been stunned by revelations that include an effort to blackmail a businessman who turned out to be a partner of the monks in at least one of their offshore companies, a former bellydancer's refutation of a lawyer's claims that Thessaloniki Prefect Panayiotis Psomiadis had hinted at the prime minister's interest in supporting the monks, the archbishop of Cyprus's declaration that the Vatopedi abbot and his Cypriot compatriots were "contrabandistas" who had funnelled money to the island republic, and so on and so forth. On November 28, Ecumenical Patriarch Vartholomaios - in God's absence - summoned the abbot, Ephraim, to the Phanar and called on him to resign. The deal, as far as we know, entails Ephraim handing over the finances of the monastery to another monk while remaining Vatopedi's spiritual head as the judicial investigation into the affair rolls on.
No one, of course, expected anything better. No politicians will be held to account. If anyone at all is punished it will be some anonymous member of the state machinery whose life will be destroyed because he or she got in the way of bigger interests. And so the general feeling of injustice, of citizens' impotence, will continue.
That is why the absence of a great tragedian is so profound. Not only are the protagonists of these wonderful tales (which never seem to end) deprived of their tragic grandeur - what's worse is that, knowing that there will be no dispensation of justice at the political and judicial level, we could only expect justice through a playwright's pillorying of those who poison our public life and undermine our future. Until a new Euripides, Shakespeare or Beckett arises, we will allow the protagonists to write their own script and drag us along with them.
10 million characters in search of an author
BY NIKOS KONSTANDARAS
Greece's tragedy is that it does not have modern tragedians - playwrights who can encapsulate in a few tight, merciless images the full glory of the madness that reigns in our public life. Without such an omnipotent intelligence to put things in order, we are left to struggle with the disparate images that keep rushing at us haphazardly, without protagonists but only miserable players piling up one on top of the other, without any semblance of order, without any tragic dignity. Each great story, which could be the stuff of parable, flies past like a series of incoherent images on a television screen, being replaced by the next object of mass hysteria before any lessons are drawn, before pity and terror can lead to any kind of catharsis.
The drama of the season has concerned the allegations, investigations and revelations concerning the very worldly real estate dealings of the monks of the Vatopedi Monastery on Mount Athos. This is the stuff of great drama, with initial claims of political influence being brought to bear on the state machinery to the benefit of the monks leading, in fits and starts, to revelations of wheeling-and-dealing that would not be out of place at the Vatican at its most conspiratorial best or in Umberto Eco's "Name of the Rose." (We all remember the case of "God's banker," Roberto Calvi, chairman of the Vatican-controlled Banco Ambrosiano, who was found hanging under Black-friars Bridge in London in 1982. A shroud of mystery still hangs over this story, even though Italy has no shortage of playwrights and filmmakers capable of making dark sense of it all.)
Here we have a handful of monks who set up a network of offshore companies (or, as they say, non-offshore companies, as they were based in EU member Cyprus) to buy and sell land that the monastery took control of after a conspiracy of (alleged) political and judicial favors resulted in the Vatopedi Monastery's ownership of a large tract of useless land around a protected lagoon being exchanged for very valuable properties that could be used for housing development. Supreme Court prosecutor Giorgos Sanidas, who did the work investigative journalists in this country will not, ordered a judicial investigation, saying that the state may have lost 100 million euros in the deal. The nation has been stunned by revelations that include an effort to blackmail a businessman who turned out to be a partner of the monks in at least one of their offshore companies, a former bellydancer's refutation of a lawyer's claims that Thessaloniki Prefect Panayiotis Psomiadis had hinted at the prime minister's interest in supporting the monks, the archbishop of Cyprus's declaration that the Vatopedi abbot and his Cypriot compatriots were "contrabandistas" who had funnelled money to the island republic, and so on and so forth. On November 28, Ecumenical Patriarch Vartholomaios - in God's absence - summoned the abbot, Ephraim, to the Phanar and called on him to resign. The deal, as far as we know, entails Ephraim handing over the finances of the monastery to another monk while remaining Vatopedi's spiritual head as the judicial investigation into the affair rolls on.
On the political front, the parliamentary inquiry into politicians' possible culpability is expected to end in the same way every major scandal in this country ends: in mutual recriminations between the political parties and, in the overall confusion, an impasse in which no one is held accountable for their actions (or inaction). The questioning of witnesses and possible culprits was due to end yesterday, after two former ministers, who lost their jobs because of this scandal, had put forward their views. Current and former ministers passed the blame from one to the other and to PASOK officials, for the initial decisions acknowledging the monks' eons-old right to the Vistonida lagoon property. New Democracy's majority on the panel blocked an effort by PASOK to extend the inquiry. All the parties are now expected to come up with their own, conflicting reports, leading nowhere.
No one, of course, expected anything better. No politicians will be held to account. If anyone at all is punished it will be some anonymous member of the state machinery whose life will be destroyed because he or she got in the way of bigger interests. And so the general feeling of injustice, of citizens' impotence, will continue.
That is why the absence of a great tragedian is so profound. Not only are the protagonists of these wonderful tales (which never seem to end) deprived of their tragic grandeur - what's worse is that, knowing that there will be no dispensation of justice at the political and judicial level, we could only expect justice through a playwright's pillorying of those who poison our public life and undermine our future. Until a new Euripides, Shakespeare or Beckett arises, we will allow the protagonists to write their own script and drag us along with them.
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Joel is the fairest of them all! He is also A1, 1st class and, perhaps, the most stubborn?!
Little Joely-Poly has had nearly two weeks at ‘BIG’ school now. And we thought we’d update you on his progress and give some points for prayer…
His first week at school started on Wednesday 10 September at 5.30pm. This was a meeting with the teachers for all the first year ‘πρώτη τάξη’ (proti taxi – 1st class) students and their parents. There are 3 classes in each year group in the school with about 16 students per class and no teaching assistants, and he is in class A1 (Άλφα ένα - Alpha Ena) and will remain with that class and teacher for two years. We met his teacher: Κύρια Βενετία (Keeria Veneteea) who explained that Thursday’s class would just be a blessing from the priest and a bit of time together as a class and that Friday they would start ‘proper’. For Friday’s lesson he would need a pencil, pencil sharpener, rubber, some colouring pens, a drawing book and something to eat and drink. His first few days at school ended at the earlier time of 1130 and would normally go on until 1230.
So, on Thursday I took him to school and watched and waited as the whole school gathered (about 270 kids), and as the priest prayed, chanted (ALMOST badly) and threw a bit of ‘holy water’ in the general direction of the children. I was struck immediately by how fair Joel is compared to practically the whole school – even the other blond(e) kids have more olive skin tones.
On Friday he was given 7 (that’s SEVEN) A4 textbooks which we had to cover with clear sticky plastic: 2 Maths, 2 Geography (sort of), 1 Literature and 2 Language. And the Κύρια Βενετία told us that he would need a bigger bag for all his books and his food. So, on Saturday, on the way back from the beach, Joel and I went to Carrefour and picked up a MASSIVE Spiderman bag.
On Monday Joel was given a long list of other things that he would need (all of which we’d bought by the end of the week: see picture below, which is missing a drawing book with different coloured sheets and all the stuff he already had). All of it (including each pen and crayon) needs to have a name label, so I spent a happy couple of hours doing that! (I'm such an admin nerd!) He sits next to Andreas, has 10 boys and 6 girls in his class and has writing homework every day. School starts at 8 and finishes at 1230 but he could opt in to the afternoon school if he wanted. We might consider that next year.
Culturally there are so many differences to school in the UK. Last year we bought Joel a book called ‘Starting School’ by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. It’s a lovely introduction to Infants’ School UK style. I flicked through it last night and it made me so sad I almost cried (which, let’s face it, isn’t THAT sad – I cry SO easily…). School here is so formal from the beginning that Joel’s class has very little of that familiar Reception class bumpf (role-play stuff, sand/water table, named pegs, etc) although they DID have to take in cushions for the ‘story and singing corner’ sessions (swing your pants!). There seems to be quite an emphasis on pleasing his teacher and Joel isn’t as much of a pleaser as H or E (it’s just not his personality – something about being a first child?). Joel clearly has no idea of these cultural differences, so it isn’t a sacrifice for him! He is always a bit reluctant to GO to school and occasionally complains about his teacher and the lessons, but once through the gates he is really happy to be there and enthusiastically greets his teacher and classmates!
How’s he doing? Good but not great (sic). His favourite thing to do is to play with Darius and Kiara in the playground. Darius (6) and Kiara (10) are Meikles: the children of our friends Heath and Meriko, a Canadian family who work for Hellenic Ministries and live LITERALLY around the corner. It’s great to be getting to know them better – they’ve been here for a year so – and, no doubt, you’ll hear more of them in due course. It’s great that he has good friends already but the Anglophonic nature of that friendship will, at least initially, hamper his Greek progress. Bullet points of what the teacher has said:- He is bright but stubborn and a bit daydreamy. Consequently he isn’t good at listening and often doesn’t want to get involved with what the class is doing. His main defence of his position (not wanting to write or speak in Greek) is that he’s English.
- He is bright and it’s not clear how much he understands. She can’t believe he can read difficult Greek words but doesn’t know them or know what they mean.
- He has developed bad habits at his νηπιαγωγείο (pre-school) where he was allowed to opt out of activities and not listen to the Greek.
- We should consider getting him to join a Greek club, eg a football team in order that he make Greek friends and be part of something completely in Greek.
She also suggested that we think about sending him to one of two state schools that deal specifically with children who don’t speak Greek. The closest one is in Alimos, in the South of the city, and would require us taking him to the bus-stop near the metro every morning for a 730 pick-up and collecting him from there at 330 every afternoon. Heath and Meriko sent their kids there last year, it was definitely good for Kiara but was exhausting and probably didn’t make much difference for Darius. Because the real issue is his social development (and especially in Greek), we’ve decided to stick with the school here. We’re trying to speak more in Greek and watch, read and listen to more Greek language media. The kids are finding the Greek invasion into their English haven (our home!) a bit of a struggle (even Esther has learnt to say, “No Mummy, in ENGLISH!”), but we’ll get there!
Please pray for us that we would continue to love and support our children through this process. They are all quite content in their situations in spite of the language and the difficulties. Hannah’s teachers (the same as last year) say that she’s settled back really well and that she’s mixing and playing even more nicely with her peers than last year. Praise God! Pray especially for Joel’s and our relationship with Κύρια Βενετία during this ‘teething’ time and that he would grow friendships with his classmates.
Thanks!
Monday, 15 September 2008
Suffering and Shining: God's Strategy (aka No Mud, No Glory)
UCCF FORUM marked the (almost) end of our summer UK visit. We left the children with Jonathan’s parents and drove the (oh so) familiar route to Quinta, Oswestry, Shropshire, LOVELY. 
FORUM is the national student leaders’ conference run by UCCF (the UK branch of IFES). It’s the venue and the event where Jonathan and I were first in the same room at the same time (although we never met): we were both at FORUM ’95 as student leaders and both attended a meeting for those interested in doing Relay, about 40 people packed into a small lounge (Severn Lodge Lounge for those interested?!). Jonathan has spent over a hundred nights at Quinta as it is
the venue for all Birmingham Uni CU houseparties (he went to 5), Midlands CU Leaders’ Training Weekends (8), Relay 1 and 3 (3 of each), Relay Reunions (2), FORUM (8) and other CU houseparties and events. I have been there almost as many times and in some ways it’s like home – it’s so familiar. Having been on staff and organised conferences based there we know the centre staff and the layout really well; know the shortest routes from any A to B; know the toilets least frequented and have marvelled at the small improvements made by the staff every year.We first met properly at Quinta (3rd September 1996 at Relay Training 1) and we celebrated our 12th anniversary of meeting by returning!
FORUM has grown significantly in the last ten years and now accommodates about 800 student leaders and 150 UCCF staff, Relay an
d guests. Most of the students camp and most of the meetings are held in big top tents of varying sizes. This year John Piper was giving the main Bible Readings from Ruth in the mornings and spoke at the World Service and Graham Daniels (Christians In Sport) spoke at two of the main meetings from Matthew 10 (Jesus sends out the Twelve).
We were only there for a couple of days but it was great to be back. We were able to catch up with dear friends and meet new ones. The most significant moments though were probably the same for most who attended FORUM this year. Two things really: it rained, a lot, and people responded to God’s call to take the gospel to all nations.
THE RAIN
As I have said in previous entries, we LOVE the rain. It rained and rained for most of the week and Clarkie’s hopes of running
around barefoot wanging a Frisbee were sadly not to be. As a result the site got muddier and muddier – it wasn’t like Glastonbury 2005 but it was pretty wet – and, as is often the case, bad weather made for more of a community spirit and was definitely the wettest FORUM on record (and the weather got worse on the day we all left).
THE RESPONSE
John Piper spoke at the FORUM World Service from John 20:21 and he spoke in two sections: “As the Father sends me …” and “… so I send you”. The evening was packed with little interviews with various folk working in IFES teams in various parts of the world and an opportunity to pray for each area. Piper spoke about Jesus’ suffering and our call to both proclaim his suffering and extend it in our own lives. For me, this was the key to a talk which was designed to make folk reflect on what the call of the gospel is: suffering and sacrifice for the sake of God’s glory and the salvation of others. Piper said that suffering is not just a cost, but a strategy. God sends his people and gives suffering in order that they might communicate God’s love with authenticity. I’ve thought a lot about this over the past year and a half. We left our lovely lives in Beeston and Athens is hard in comparison. Visits to the UK, to church and life in Beeston, to UCCF events, are bitter sweet: they are a great joy to be involved in but a stark reminder of what we have left. We pray that we would make the most of this sacrifice; make it count and do it for the sake of the glorious name of Jesus, who sacrificed himself that we might be made right with God and have a relationship with him.
At the end of his second talk Piper explained that he was going to ask two different groups of people to stand up. The first group were those who were called to ‘cross-cultural, vocational (whole life) mission’, whether they were absolutely certain or just believed that that might be the case. The second group were those who were prepared to go on some short-term cross-cultural mission, whether that be a few weeks, months or a couple of years.
I think that somewhere between 150 and 200 stood at the first call. I, of little faith, couldn’t believe so many responded. As the second group were called to stand with them a further 400 or so stood. Most of the tent was standing. It moved me to tears and I need to explain why. 13 years ago I stood at FORUM and responded in the same way that some of these guys had: tentatively, knowing that God had called me to give my whole life for his glory and that, for me, that would mean moving outside of my comfort zone. I cried that Wednesday night because I know how much that response is going to cost. Suffering is not an option, it’s a cost and a strategy. But, and this is what I really want to make clear, it’s a strategy not just for the sake of those who see but for those who suffer. My personal pain at leaving my lovely life in Beeston helps me to “look forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” (Heb 11:10) It forces me to live for Jesus. I don’t do that very well and pray that I might glorify him more and more. But at the end of the evening I had two quotes ringing in my ears: further on in Hebrews 11 and some of the words from one of the songs we sang at FORUM:
FORUM is the national student leaders’ conference run by UCCF (the UK branch of IFES). It’s the venue and the event where Jonathan and I were first in the same room at the same time (although we never met): we were both at FORUM ’95 as student leaders and both attended a meeting for those interested in doing Relay, about 40 people packed into a small lounge (Severn Lodge Lounge for those interested?!). Jonathan has spent over a hundred nights at Quinta as it is
the venue for all Birmingham Uni CU houseparties (he went to 5), Midlands CU Leaders’ Training Weekends (8), Relay 1 and 3 (3 of each), Relay Reunions (2), FORUM (8) and other CU houseparties and events. I have been there almost as many times and in some ways it’s like home – it’s so familiar. Having been on staff and organised conferences based there we know the centre staff and the layout really well; know the shortest routes from any A to B; know the toilets least frequented and have marvelled at the small improvements made by the staff every year.We first met properly at Quinta (3rd September 1996 at Relay Training 1) and we celebrated our 12th anniversary of meeting by returning!
FORUM has grown significantly in the last ten years and now accommodates about 800 student leaders and 150 UCCF staff, Relay an
d guests. Most of the students camp and most of the meetings are held in big top tents of varying sizes. This year John Piper was giving the main Bible Readings from Ruth in the mornings and spoke at the World Service and Graham Daniels (Christians In Sport) spoke at two of the main meetings from Matthew 10 (Jesus sends out the Twelve).We were only there for a couple of days but it was great to be back. We were able to catch up with dear friends and meet new ones. The most significant moments though were probably the same for most who attended FORUM this year. Two things really: it rained, a lot, and people responded to God’s call to take the gospel to all nations.
THE RAIN
As I have said in previous entries, we LOVE the rain. It rained and rained for most of the week and Clarkie’s hopes of running
around barefoot wanging a Frisbee were sadly not to be. As a result the site got muddier and muddier – it wasn’t like Glastonbury 2005 but it was pretty wet – and, as is often the case, bad weather made for more of a community spirit and was definitely the wettest FORUM on record (and the weather got worse on the day we all left).THE RESPONSE
John Piper spoke at the FORUM World Service from John 20:21 and he spoke in two sections: “As the Father sends me …” and “… so I send you”. The evening was packed with little interviews with various folk working in IFES teams in various parts of the world and an opportunity to pray for each area. Piper spoke about Jesus’ suffering and our call to both proclaim his suffering and extend it in our own lives. For me, this was the key to a talk which was designed to make folk reflect on what the call of the gospel is: suffering and sacrifice for the sake of God’s glory and the salvation of others. Piper said that suffering is not just a cost, but a strategy. God sends his people and gives suffering in order that they might communicate God’s love with authenticity. I’ve thought a lot about this over the past year and a half. We left our lovely lives in Beeston and Athens is hard in comparison. Visits to the UK, to church and life in Beeston, to UCCF events, are bitter sweet: they are a great joy to be involved in but a stark reminder of what we have left. We pray that we would make the most of this sacrifice; make it count and do it for the sake of the glorious name of Jesus, who sacrificed himself that we might be made right with God and have a relationship with him.
At the end of his second talk Piper explained that he was going to ask two different groups of people to stand up. The first group were those who were called to ‘cross-cultural, vocational (whole life) mission’, whether they were absolutely certain or just believed that that might be the case. The second group were those who were prepared to go on some short-term cross-cultural mission, whether that be a few weeks, months or a couple of years.
I think that somewhere between 150 and 200 stood at the first call. I, of little faith, couldn’t believe so many responded. As the second group were called to stand with them a further 400 or so stood. Most of the tent was standing. It moved me to tears and I need to explain why. 13 years ago I stood at FORUM and responded in the same way that some of these guys had: tentatively, knowing that God had called me to give my whole life for his glory and that, for me, that would mean moving outside of my comfort zone. I cried that Wednesday night because I know how much that response is going to cost. Suffering is not an option, it’s a cost and a strategy. But, and this is what I really want to make clear, it’s a strategy not just for the sake of those who see but for those who suffer. My personal pain at leaving my lovely life in Beeston helps me to “look forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” (Heb 11:10) It forces me to live for Jesus. I don’t do that very well and pray that I might glorify him more and more. But at the end of the evening I had two quotes ringing in my ears: further on in Hebrews 11 and some of the words from one of the songs we sang at FORUM:
If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.
(Hebrews 11:15-16)
Purify us Lord, so we’re spotless and pure as we hold out your word to this generation
How can they hear? And how can they believe? How can they call on your name unless we tell them?
I am not ashamed, I know whom I believe for God himself has come to me, now Jesus is my destiny.
I know I am changed and all you’ve given me: this hope, this love, this life, I can’t deny your power within me.
So, here I am, send me.
I AM changed. I’m not the person I thought was growing up to be. I have left behind me a lot of things that I used to hold very dear - a lot of dreams and aspirations. But the life I have is a gift from God to be lived out to his glory. It’s dirty and uncomfortable and inconvenient at times (like the mud at FORUM), but it also reminds me of my need for a Saviour, my need for power that does not come from me and the call to give my life for the sake of God’s glory and for the salvation of others.Friday, 12 September 2008
The Green, Green Grass of Home
A few notes on cultural acclimatisation and a compare and contrast (but hopefully in a good way!)
We’ve arrived back safely from a great summer in England. I’ve just been looking back over photos and thinking about all the friends and family we were able to see; the weddings and birthday celebrations attended; the relaxing trips to favourite places; the new people we were privileged to meet; the green grass we got to really enjoy (and we did – see below!) and the rain. Joel has said, on numerous occasions since we left the UK permanently twenty-one months ago, that rain is his favourite weather, and the rest of us are inclined to agree. We LOVE rain. We don’t see that much of it in Athens – and yet there is no hosepipe ban, ever. Often, when it rains in Athens (and it doesn’t often rain), it rains heavily all day. We may have had about 7 days like that last year, and it probably rained for a shorter period, usually at night, 15 to 20 times (and that’s a generous estimate!). In fact, this last year, it nearly snowed as much as it rained!
The kids enjoying the grass in York Minster Gardens
Hannah running around at Twycross Zoo
Esther in Museum Gardens, York.
Joel and Esther in 'our' back garden in Beeston 
Athens is a dry (no kidding) and dusty city with little open space and barely any green grass. The greenest part of the city is definitely the Ancient Agora at the foot of the Acropolis and overlooked by the Areopagus (see pic). As a family we were discussing what colours our two home countries were – what colours came to mind when we thought of them: Greece is the bright white of the sun shining off the white buildings and marble steps and paving slabs in the city centre; the bright blue of the sky; the olive green of the, erm, olive trees and other vegetation and the pale brown of the sun-scorched earth. England (or Britain, if you like) was mostly green and grey: the dark green of the trees; the deep green of lush grass; the grey-ey white of the clouds not quite ready to rain on us; the dark grey of the roads not bleached by the sun and browny-red, the browny-red of the red-brick buildings and roof-tiles.Athens is built-up with busy roads and relentless noise. Although it’s sunny most of the time we are usually in shade because most buildings are 5 or 6 storeys high. The roads are broad and packed and the pavements are narrow – so it always feels crowded. The city has population about ½ the size of London packed into a space ¼ the size – so it’s DENSE! With t
he exception of businesses in the city centre, most places are open from 8ish til 2.30ish Monday to Saturday and re-open from 5ish til 9ish Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. There are very few places open on Sundays – mostly περίπτερα (periptera – kiosks), ζαχαροπλαστεία (zakaroplastia – patisseries), and flower shops – which are generally open when other places aren’t, to service the visiting periods… We live around the corner from most of the shops we’d ever need: supermarkets, cafés, bakery, clothes shops, etc I guess that’s big city life – very convenient! Joel and Hannah are at school 8ish til 12ish, so the mornings are quiet! We have enforced quiet time between 2.30 and 5 (mostly for the sake of our neighbours), with the kids ‘down’ and ‘away’ (reading quietly in a corner or sleeping in their beds) for about an hour and a half of that time. Bedtime for all of us is about the same as it would be in the UK (730/8ish for the kids, 1130ish – but aspiring to be earlier! – for us!). Cafés, bars and restaurants are open til late (at least midnight) and are generally chilled out but smoky. In terms of transport, we get around on buses and the metro which makes it impossible to blend in when we’re all together (the children talk loudly in English!). It’s cheap – 80 cents for a 90 minute ticket – and convenient and there isn’t enough space outside our house for another parked car anyway! We are able to borrow a car from Greek friends at church or missionary friends who live up the hill in Zografou for trips to the airport, the beach or IKEA! The only other immediate thing to say about Athens is that no building is the same as the next. There is absolutely no uniformity in the planning and building of this city. When a building needs replacing its neighbouring buildings are fortified and the building is carefully demolished and replaced. Only the outer-reaches of suburban Athens have anything remotely like housing estates, and even there it is quite rare.
Our friend Maria (the wife of our ‘boss’, Thanos) and her eldest daughter, Myrto, visited England in July and that has made me think all the more about the differences between the countries. Beeston is quiet. Our house is in the Rylands, one of the quietest parts of the town, and the contrast is stark. The roads are all wide and open and even in the rush-hour traffic of University Boulevard it is somehow calmer and less frenetic than Athens. It was great to go into Nottingham city centre for a day – we used the bus (first time as a family!) and found it VERY convenient! – and good to experience smoke-free pub lunches! It was also good to see that Costa coffee in the city centre is now open til 8! Café lifestyle is so much an all-day, all-evening thing here – the local Starbucks (3 mins walk up the hill) is open til 1130 – that I still find it unbelievable that cafés in the UK aren’t up for staying open later. Most of all (in objective terms) we love the green (have we said that before?!)! Maria took LOADS of photos of trees, bushes and grass when she visited – it’s just SUCH a contrast to Athens and Greece. As we flew into Gatwick I LOVED seeing all those lovely almost-square fields lined with green bushes and green trees. We even flew over the village I grew up in (where my parents still live) and saw park land and playing fields. The uniformity of buildings and streets is so comforting and easy on the eye…Finally (sorry, I could ‘talk’ for hours about such things…), here are a few tips for anyone visiting Greece/Athens and the British alternatives (for those unfamiliar with British ways):
- Yes and No. Greek people will make TINY head gestures indicating a positive or negative response. A slight tilt to one side for yes and a sharp upward movement (often with a puckered-lip tut) for no. This is especially difficult when hailing a taxi: you need to be vigilant – as the taxi slows and you shout your destination, watch the driver’s head carefully, hesitation might cause frustration and embarrassment (even more so when you misread it and try to open the door of a taxi that’s not stopping! British people tend to speak first and only occasionally give a nod or shake of the head (often for emphasis).
- Paying at a till and change. This is especially true in supermarkets, but people in Greece generally like you to have the right change. I have no idea if this has any historical origin but if you have to pay, say, €8.80 for something, they will ask you if you have the 80 cents – especially if you pay with anything more than a €10 note. And you put the money on the counter (there is often a helpful scoop section) and not into the shop assistant’s hand. I had a reverse-culture-shock moment in Luton airport in June: I was in WHSmith’s and was scrabbling around in my purse for exactly £8.65 (just in case I had it!), laying money on the counter and eventually apologising that I only had £8.70. The shop assistant wasn’t that pleased that she had to pick up all that change and a little incredulous that I’d gone to so much trouble. Oddly paying money into the hand of the shop assistant is a rare way in which the British are more tactile than Greeks!
- Getting on and off transport. Most Mediterranean nationalities don’t queue unless they are made to. When they are made to queue (in the post office or bank) they are remarkably patient and calm. Bus, tram and metro stops are, however, a free-for-all. As soon as the bus/tram/train stops people are generally trying to get on, often pushing past you as you try to get off. This was particularly ridiculous on our first ever visit when we used the metro every day and had Joel (almost 2) and Hannah (5 months) in a double-pushchair. It was almost impossible for anyone to get on before we got off and yet people were always trying to clamber over the pushchair or squeeze past (occasionally losing some ankle skin in the process!). I still struggle to remember that it’s not rude to do so in Greece – it’s not expected, so why do it. It feels rude and thoughtless, so it’s especially nice when people help me off with the pushchair or the shopping, or both!
- Washing your hands. Athens is a dusty city and it seems that most Greek visitors to our house like to wash their hands on arrival. Not sure why. Maybe (probably) we’re just not as clean or hygienic as our friends… Maybe because Britain is less dusty and downstairs toilets are less common the practice is less common too.
If you ever come to visit as part of a mission team you will probably hear this again in a slightly re-jigged format. Apologies in advance for the repetition. Apologies too for the length of this entry but I hope it’s a bit of an insight into the differences in our lives.
Estie, My Estie
Esther was two at the end of August. She will almost certainly celebrate every birthday in the UK, and usually have some, if not all, of it on IFES Staff Conference. This year we returned to Otford Manor (base of Oak Hall) in lush green Kent for the IFES Orientation/Staff Conference. Last time we were there, two years ago, Esther was a tiny, weeny baby – 2 days old when we arrived. Now she’s a big girl: walking, talking, joining in with all the kids’ activities. These past two years have seen significant growth and change in all of us as we’ve moved to Athens and begun a different life there. In spite of the teething problems and growing pains there is MUCH to give thanks to God for. His grace has kept us and we have learnt more and more about his goodness and provision, his church – our wider family – and our true home. The next few blogs are going to be mostly on my musings on that theme…
Thanks to all who worked out ways to get birthday wishes to Estie-Pestie (not that she noticed if you didn’t!). Next year we’ll try to give an address and a heads up!
Monday, 21 July 2008
Lost in Translation...
I've been wondering how to write something about translation for a few months now... There are lots of things to say, vaguely connected. So I am afraid you'll have to bear with me as I offload them...
The Greek script is the first hurdle and for someone learning the language it is not a big hurdle, but for friends and family visiting it is enough to put them off learning to read Greek at all, mostly. Now if we see a familiar Greek brand sign transliterated into English it doesn't just look weird, it feels weird that the word can exist in the other script. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it's true. Sadly I can't find a photo of the western script version, but imagine this sign reading ALFA instead of ΑΛΦΑ and you'll get the gist.
Some Greek words have become the most natural word for an item or feeling: we never say kiosk (περίπτερο - periptero), rarely say aubergines (μελιτζάνες - melitzanes), I generally ask Clarkie what the time is in Greek (I don't have a watch! It's "Τι ώρα είναι;" - "Tee ora eenay?") and I am hardly ever tired these days (κουρασμένη - kourasmeni) and we pray that that would become more and more the case... Some English words will never be ceded to Greek - there is no word for 'nod'. I have been reading Harry Potter 1 in Greek (am just about to start the Magician's Nephew - Narnia 1) and there was a lot of nodding which had to be translated as 'moving head in a positive indication'...
I've also been pondering the difference between the decision to translate or to transliterate. The metro signs, for example, are mostly transliterated (they are, after all, place names) - the airport being the exception. I wonder if it would be more helpful though for some of them to be translated, so you know you're at the Ministry for National Defence (Εθνική Άμυνα - Ethniki Amyna) or at Constitution Square, by the parliament (Σύνταγμα - Syntagma). I wonder how many non-guidebook-dependent tourists miss these places as a result (not that there's much to see at Ethniki Amyna!).
Sometimes, as an anglophone, you read translated guides or menus and want to get out a red pen (the teacher in me) and correct the spelling or syntax errors.
The real translation issue though, living as an ex-pat, is not the translation from Greek to English and vice versa but from American English to British English and vice versa. Most of our Greek friends are (obviously) more familiar with American English, some have lived in North America at some point, and most of our anglophonic friends are American or Canadian. So, here's a little test - I'll give you the American word, you give the British word...
The Greek script is the first hurdle and for someone learning the language it is not a big hurdle, but for friends and family visiting it is enough to put them off learning to read Greek at all, mostly. Now if we see a familiar Greek brand sign transliterated into English it doesn't just look weird, it feels weird that the word can exist in the other script. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it's true. Sadly I can't find a photo of the western script version, but imagine this sign reading ALFA instead of ΑΛΦΑ and you'll get the gist.Some Greek words have become the most natural word for an item or feeling: we never say kiosk (περίπτερο - periptero), rarely say aubergines (μελιτζάνες - melitzanes), I generally ask Clarkie what the time is in Greek (I don't have a watch! It's "Τι ώρα είναι;" - "Tee ora eenay?") and I am hardly ever tired these days (κουρασμένη - kourasmeni) and we pray that that would become more and more the case... Some English words will never be ceded to Greek - there is no word for 'nod'. I have been reading Harry Potter 1 in Greek (am just about to start the Magician's Nephew - Narnia 1) and there was a lot of nodding which had to be translated as 'moving head in a positive indication'...
I've also been pondering the difference between the decision to translate or to transliterate. The metro signs, for example, are mostly transliterated (they are, after all, place names) - the airport being the exception. I wonder if it would be more helpful though for some of them to be translated, so you know you're at the Ministry for National Defence (Εθνική Άμυνα - Ethniki Amyna) or at Constitution Square, by the parliament (Σύνταγμα - Syntagma). I wonder how many non-guidebook-dependent tourists miss these places as a result (not that there's much to see at Ethniki Amyna!).
Sometimes, as an anglophone, you read translated guides or menus and want to get out a red pen (the teacher in me) and correct the spelling or syntax errors.
The real translation issue though, living as an ex-pat, is not the translation from Greek to English and vice versa but from American English to British English and vice versa. Most of our Greek friends are (obviously) more familiar with American English, some have lived in North America at some point, and most of our anglophonic friends are American or Canadian. So, here's a little test - I'll give you the American word, you give the British word...
- onesie
- diaper
- pacifier
- crib
- stroller
- teeter-totter
- pants
- jumper dress
- bib-and-brace
- sweater
- sneakers
- couch
- biscuit
- cookie
- granola bar
- scallion
- zucchini
- eggplant
- shopping cart
- stickshift (car)
- garbage
- sidewalk
- highway
- elevator
- gas
- faucet
- "i gotta go bathroom"
- "where did you go to school?"
Click here for the answers: http://alltheclarks.googlepages.com/thelostintranslationanswers
Some of them are seeping into our vocabulary - hopefully just for the sake of being understood (we hope to retain the British words in our active vocabulary as much as we are able to!).
Trying to become fluent in another language does hamper my eloquence in English but it also makes me value the richness of both English and Greek. Most importantly though, it makes me again "look forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:10)
Here's what we can look forward to, no matter how limited our language skills are:
Revelation 7:9-12After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice:
"Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb."
All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying:
"Amen!
Praise and glory
and wisdom and
thanks and honor
and power and strength
be to our God for ever and ever.
Amen!"
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