OPA!!!

Me and my Greek dance teacher

Today was “Carnival” in Greece. We were invited by Theoni, my Greek dancing teacher (I’ve been taking Greek dance classes once a week at the embassy), to a little village (about 1.5 hrs outside of Athens) for a carnival celebration. She wanted her dance students to see how Greek dancing was supposed to look...when it is done by real Greeks out on the plateia (village square) rather than by a bunch of rhythm-less Americans in a conference room in the embassy! So...me, Barb and 2 of my friends from the greek dancing class headed out there, having no idea what to expect but excited to see our dance teacher in action - she was going to be in costume, dancing at the carnival. (And it turns out she was being modest because she was actually the MC and kind of leading much of the festivities). When we got there she was dancing but she saw us and waved and got a big smile on her face. Next thing we knew, someone came over to us, confirmed that we were the ones from the American embassy and led us into the middle of the square, right up in front by the dancers and sat us at a big long table with the village mayor and other important people!! Then Theoni announced to the whole village over the loud speaker that her students from the American embassy were here and they all clapped and welcomed us. Everyone was so nice to us. They served us tons of wine, bread, feta cheese and huge chunks of lamb that came out in big dishes, with no plates or silverware – we just picked it up and ate it, it was great! After the “official” dancing was over, all the local people joined in dancing and it was just a big party. They all made us get up and dance with them and before I knew it, I was arm in arm with little old Greek ladies doing the dances that Theoni has been teaching us for the past two months. We were all up there (even Barb joined in although she’s never taken any Greek dancing classes) dancing with the locals. It was SO much fun. By the end, we totally blended in, and looked liked we belonged there. So, as many of you know, I was really upset earlier this week when we found out we had to cancel our trip to Rhodes because Barb had to work this weekend. But I’m so happy for the silver lining – that we got to experience this totally unforgettable day!
Check out my video of me dancing with the greeks. One of these things is not like the other! :)

Ancient sites and free wine

We needed to get out of Athens. Sometimes the non-stop noise of car horns, car alarms, motorcycle alarms and euro-sirens just gets to us and we decided that it was time for one of our notorious day trips. Although we no longer have our hard top convertible we do have a new car here, a Seat Ibiza, which is a good little car, that we are sharing because we decided that one car is more than enough (parking in our neighborhood is a nightmare and driving in Athens is even worse).

So we left home Saturday morning after our Eggo waffle breakfast (side note: At the embassy here, unlike Cyprus, they have a store with all American products, so every once in a while we treat ourselves to something classically Americano!) and headed west to the Peloponnesus area of Greece where the ancient city of Mycenae is found. It rained the whole way there. Luckily we missed our exit and there wasn’t another one for 20 minutes and by the time we turned around and headed back and arrived at Mycenae, it was a beautiful day!

We were in an area known for their vineyards, so we weren’t surprised when we stumbled upon a winery. We were surprised, however to see that there were no other cars there (it was a Saturday afternoon) and it didn’t really look “open.” But as were getting out of the car, a man came around from the side, smoking a cigarette and just looking at us like “what the hell are you doing here.” We said hi and realized that he didn’t speak a word of English. So in Greek I asked him if he worked there and if they were open and if we could taste some wine. He waved us in and we entered a large, industrial-looking winery; definitely not a place where they get visitors for “wine tastings,” as we know them. There were two other guys insides, obviously the first guy’s workers. Guy number one, we’ll call him Spyros, took two wine glasses each half full of wine that the guys must’ve been drinking themselves and took them outside to dump them and rinse them.


He came back in, filled them up with wine from a big metal wine storing barrel and handed them to us! We drank them and told him we’d like to buy a bottle of that one and asked to try another. I talked to Spyros in Greek about the different wines as he ran back and forth, giving us samples of every type of wine he had. I think that he really appreciated my pathetic attempts at speaking his language (especially because he couldn’t speak ours) and our interest in his winery because although he seemed reluctant at first (because they obviously aren’t used to tourists there), he didn’t want us to leave until we’ve tried them all. We asked to buy some “bottles” which they actually don’t sell there, but he filled up some big plastic jugs (equivalent of 2 wine bottles worth of wine each) and before we knew it, we had 6 jugs of wine at our feet.

He got us a bag and said he’d help us carry them to the car. When I asked him how much it would be altogether, he replied “It’s a gift!” When we resisted and told him we wanted to pay something he simply said, “it is just a little,” and then explained that to us it seems like a lot, but to him it is just a little. So we weren’t going to argue with the man, so we asked for his card and left, very happy.

We needed to get out of Athens. We needed to be reminded that just like New York City isn’t representative of “America” as a whole, Athens isn’t representative of Greece, and Athenians of Greeks. The rude drivers laying on their horn or speeding up when a pedestrian tries to cross the road are not the Greeks who work in wineries on the countryside, who are known for their hospitality and eagerness to share their culture with foreigners. So whenever we get fed up with city life and city people, we will remember that we are just a road trip away from “real” Greece.

se pezodromio!

In a lot of ways Athens is like Cyprus. The drivers are insane, the streets are narrow, cars are parked as if someone dropped a bunch of cars out of the sky and however they landed is how they stayed. One difference that we found out the hard way though is that apparently on SOME streets, ours included, you aren’t allowed to park with half the car on the curb/sidewalk. Coming from Cyprus, we thought this was totally normal. In Athens, we get an 80 Euro ticket. Ugh!

One step forward... (Athens, day 4)

Ahh, here I am again, in front of the computer, in a new country. Feels like just yesterday I was writing my Cyprus Day 1 blog. Crazy how time flies. I can’t help but compare what the first few days in Cyprus were like versus the first few days in Greece. I don’t feel that panicky sense of loneliness that I did in Cyprus. I think that with this being tour #2, it just helps to know that everything will fall into place eventually. When I arrived in Cyprus I was afraid I wasn’t going to have any friends. But now, I guess in a weird way, I am comforted to know that I will probably be making friends eventually, with whom in three years I’ll be crying my eyes out when we have to say goodbye.

We arrived on Friday which was nice because we had the whole weekend to relax and start to get adjusted to the time. We also used that opportunity to get familiar with the maintenance people already, when Barb opened the door to the bathroom, which then crashed into the light that was hanging dangerously low from the hall ceiling which then blew a fuse knocking out half the lights in the apartment including the power to the refrigerator (approximately 2 hours after returning from the grocery store with a fridge full of perishable items!)

The good news is we succeeded in getting our internet working, although in the process we broke our wireless router and lost our home phone connection. One step forward, two steps back. I just attempted to do some laundry but the washing machine and drier are in GERMAN, (why wouldn’t they be?!) so I can’t even use my Greek to get me out of this dilemma. I guess I’ll wait til Barb gets home from work and see if she can remember any of her German.

Last night we went over to Barb’s coworkers’ house for a welcome BBQ with about 5 other couples, 3 of us brand new. It was a good opportunity to meet some of the people Barb will be working with and their spouses. Seems like a nice crew.

I guess that’s all I have to say for now. We love our new apartment. It's literally right in the center of Athens, with a lot of stores and restaurants in walking distance (plus a metro AND the embassy). I miss you all and promise to keep these coming, if YOU promise to keep writing to me too!

My realization

When I moved to Cyprus, I was amazed at the lack of diversity here. Everyone looks exactly the same. The only people who look different are the people who work as housecleaners, nannies, or prostitutes. There are no black people. There are no teenagers walking around with green hair in a mohawk. I don't think I've ever seen someone with a piercing on their face and I've definitely never seen a transgendered person. I haven't even seen anyone who I could honestly says looks "openly gay." Barb and I have learned a new way of life. We don't walk down the street holding hands as we would in DC. We never give each other a small kiss before parting, or dance together at events, such as weddings.

I learned last night that there are no zoos in Cyprus. There are no aquariums or planetariums. There are very few "real" museums. You might be wondering what this has to do with diversity, and maybe the answer is nothing. But it made me realize something. Cypriots are not exposed to very much. They just aren't. They know their island and much of their lives and education revolve around the infamous "Cyprus problem," which most other people in the world know nothing about. Going abroad and going to a zoo is a big deal. (You can count the number of species who live on this island on two hands.) Cypriots don't see lakes and rivers. They don't see big open fields of grass. And they don't see diversity.

In many places that I've been, on the surface, people appear to be open minded and gay friendly. But then you dig deeper and find that they actually have deeper-seeded issues or prejudices. I've found Cyprus to be the opposite. You wouldn't expect people living on this little island to be open-minded. And I wouldn't blame them for being that way. Like I said, they are not exposed to such things on a day to day basis as we are in the U.S.
But I have to say my experience has been different. The straight friends that I have made in Cyprus are the most open-minded, welcoming, accepting people I know. Barb and I completely expected to not be treated equally and we were prepared to deal with that. We made gay friends as soon as we arrived in Cyprus, but I never expected to become good friends with other Cypriots.

My reason for writing this blog in the first place was to tell my Cypriot friends—and you know who you are—how grateful I am to have met you and to thank you from the bottom of my heart for embracing Barb and me in your lives. It may not have been a big deal for you but it really was for us. And even if we haven't told you this, or haven't told you this enough, know that we do talk about it to each other all the time and feel lucky to have gotten to know you deeper than just at surface level!

Life is simple when you live in a tent (our trip to JORDAN)

This past weekend was Orthodox Easter so Barb and I decided to take advantage of the 4 day weekend and go spend it in a Muslim country (no one does Easter like the Muslims ). But really, It was so nice to get out of Cyprus . Jordan is similar to Cyprus in some ways: the land is brown and the sea is blue, the ancient tombs in Petra aren't all that different from the tombs in Paphos, Arab music sounds like it could be Greek, just with annoying whining rather than singing (Ok, I'm biased). But that's where the similarities end. The people in Jordan were some of the nicest I've ever met. As our guidebook said, even though Jordan is bordered by the "hot spots" of Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the Israeli and Palestinian territories, the Jordanians welcomed us with open arms, regardless of if we said we were from the US or Cyprus (which most replied "What's that?" even though it is less than an hour flight away!) The nicest being a small section of the Jordanian population called the Bedouins, who are probably the simplest people on earth. Similar to how I would imagine the Native American used to live, these people come from huge families who all live together in a single tent. Most have a surprisingly good command of English, which they've learned from tourists (most of them make their living by selling souvenirs in Petra ). And yes, they're definitely trying to rip you off (they have to make a living), but they're also the first to welcome you into their tent for tea and to tell you all about their people. As one guy told Barb and me, "We have our village and we have our mountain. What more could we want?"

Life is simple.

They're happy with the way life is. When you don't even keep track of how old you are, because it just doesn't matter, well, not much else does either. One guy told us that whenever he gets upset about something, or at someone, he just goes and sits behind a tree and makes a fire until he feels better. Maybe we could learn something from these people. (Although the most entertaining story this guy could tell was about the time his goats got mixed up with his neighbors' goats and his dad yelled at him)
Anyway, Petra was amazing. Breathtaking. Barb and I rode camels, took a hike to the top of a mountain to see a 2,000+ year old monastery carved into a rock ( Petra means rock in Greek). We even went to the Cave Bar which is literally a bar inside old tombs, for drinks and narghile.

Although we had budged 2 days for Petra , our sore legs told us that a day at the Dead Sea was needed. So we drove the desert highway (now there's an exciting road, let me tell you) to an expensive hotel on the Dead Sea where we agree to have a Dead Sea mud wrap at their spa and then got to use all the hotel's amenities and have access to their beach for "free." Floating in the Dead Sea is something I can't even describe, but since most of you have never been there, I'll try. First of all, it is called the Dead Sea because nothing (plants, animals, etc) can survive in it because of the amount of salt (30% more than in the ocean). Looking around it looks as if everyone is lying on rafts; you are so buoyant that you couldn't drown yourself in this sea no matter how badly you wanted to die. The salt and all the minerals are also really good for your skin so you feel soft when you get out, although you have to shower almost immediately because the salt cakes to your skin. The mud is also said to have healing and softening powers when rubbed all over your skin. We tried the do-it-yourself version first but then went to the spa for a more luxurious version. (Well, if you call being covered in mud from head to toe, then wrapped in plastic and a heated blanket and being left alone like that for 20 minutes luxurious!)

The last day, as we were loading the rental car to head to the airport, my brilliant girlfriend locked the keys in the trunk (its ok for me to say that, because I'm the one who backed the rental car into a wall ). Several Jordanians (hotel workers and some others that were in the parking lot) approached us to see if we needed help. Crime (and IQ) must not be very high in Jordan because everyone who tried to help us had the same "solution." They would come over and after trying to open every door (in case we hadn't thought of that) they would try their own car key in our car's lock! Then, when it didn't work, they would just stand there and look dumbfoundedly at the car as if to say "That's the weirdest thing... It works on my car every time!"

The Jordanians—not the brightest, but certainly the sweetest, nicest people you'll ever meet!

If you want to see more pictures, there's plenty here.

"skiing" in Cyprus

I use the term "skiing" loosely. Cyprus isn't exactly known for its big ski mountains, but surprisingly, the tippy top of one mountain does have real snow and a semi-real ski slope. We taught two of our Cypriot friends, Marios and Patrick how to ski. Well, kind of. Here are some pictures.