Independence Day

Earlier in the week, Athens was a sodden and slippery grey world. The rain blew sideways, whipping through the trees and across the plateias in diagonal sheets – umbrellas were comical in the face of such elements. On the way home from the gym, I slipped and fell on the marble sidewalk, tearing a big hole in the knee of my pants and doing some damage to the skin beneath. As I limped back to Stassinou, singlemindedly focused on dry socks and soup, it occurred to me that I’d just about had it with the rain.

Thus it was a surprise and a relief to awake Friday, field trip day, to shafts of blue between the apartment buildings of my neighborhood. We set out for Brauron, a coastal religious site just across the Attic plain, but arrived to find that it had rained there too, to say the least.



So our ever-intrepid fearless leader Diamant led us on a scramble up a nearby hillside, where we could sit on rocks among the scrubby vegetation and goat poop and at least gaze upon the temple of Artemis, flooded as it was. Oddly, I think I preferred it this way – it was fun.



Then it was off to Sounion and the very well preserved Temple of Poseidon. A lot of it has stood continuously, and it’s been a sort of beacon for grecophiles for a long time – Lord Byron carved his name on one of the pillars somewhere, but we couldn’t find it.



The location in the landscape was pretty nice, it was sort of out on a peninsula.



This is also the spot where, according to the myth, Theseus’ father threw himself to his death in the sea when he saw his son’s ship returning with black sails. I probably shouldn’t be smiling in this picture, but the wind was incredibly strong and blowing inland, and the difficulty I felt trying to stand there struck me as funny. I couldn’t have made the jump I’m imitating if I tried.



Today was Greek Independence Day.



There were two parades, one of schoolchildren and one of the military. I much preferred the former, although the latter was better attended and obviously considered the marquee event.



The number one sight was definitely toddlers in costume. Awesome.



There were just thousands of kids in this thing – it was pretty staggering.



Almost everyone around me was a parent with a video camera, craning their necks for the approach of school number whatever to come round the bend. It reminded me of home somehow, of my own childhood, which is an unusual feeling for me here – I lingered, and talked with them about it.



I didn’t take any pictures of the tanks and police cars and firefighters, the myriad military men. I just didn’t care really. It struck me though, what rapt attention people paid to them, the respect they were paid. Perhaps its because Greek Independence is a much more recently realized ideal than it is in the states, or maybe it’s because a term of military service is compulsory for young greek men. But it was a big event.



I had my eye on something else.



This is embarrassing, but I sort of thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen in that moment, ridiculous uniform be damned. I took an entirely inappropriate number of pictures.



But alas, all good things come to an end – they took to the streets behind a marching band, and I was left to watch yet another line of motorcycles putter by.



Most of my flatmates were away, and it was quiet, so I got pretty much all the academic work done that stands between me and spring break. When tash comes we’ll probably go to an island for a few days, maybe Naxos or Andros. Then Wendy and I are off on the first for Rhodes, Crete, and finally Easter on Santorini. It’s been fun seeing pictures and hearing stories about all my friends breaks back home (road trips! Concerts in Colorado! Cornwallbridge!), and I think I’m ready for some rambling time of my own…wish me luck.