There’s no place like Athens

This past weekend I ventured to Corfu, one of Greece’s green islands.  It’s a little bit of a hike from Athens so naturally we chose to take a bus that ranges between 6 to 10 hours as opposed to a flight –the glamorous life of a student.  Yes, the buses here, like the Greeks, do whatever the hell they want and don’t feel the need to specify anything to you, not even travel times.  The way back took about 7 hours so not bad.  And the bus ride there?  I honestly couldn’t tell you how long it took because I took a dramamine to avoid motion sickness.  As a result I literally passed out for the entire ride-like passed the hell out-couldn’t keep my eyes open or operate machinery.  I think Greek dramamine is actually vikadin with a hint of morphine.  Needless to say, I was in the island state of mind once we arrived seeing as I was still comatose.

 The hostel we stayed at was called The Pink Palace-it’s one of the most famous hostels in Europe, holding up to 750 in the high season.  It’s on the beach and the clientele was “I’m about to be too old to stay here.”  Guests are known to stay longer than they initially planned- it even says it on their t-shirt, which I purchased?  But we had to be back Monday for class.  The next day was beautiful so we relaxed on the beach, which was easy to get to, “just follow the yellow footprints” the staff told us.  I felt like I was in The Wizard of Oz following the yellowfoot road.  Corfu certainly felt like Oz.  We met a lot of Canadians and some kids from Argentina.  They were all cracking me up and language barriers only made everything funnier. 

 All in all, Corfu was really relaxing and I did not want to leave-apparently I fit the Pink Palace stereotype.  As we left, I popped another dramamine to sleep on the ride home.  Clicking my ruby red slippers just doesn’t equate to the magic of dramamine.

 However, my drugged up dreams were cut short when we arrived in Athens.  There were riots in our neighborhood.  Wake up call! –Quite literally for me at least.  All of these men wearing black were parading through my hood throwing flaming bottles and rocks. They damaged some stores and cars.  Rioting the newly elected Prime Minister?  No, they were rioting about volleyball.  Not even futball, volleyball.  I thought that was ridiculous! Volleyball? Does that even exist in Greece?  The most physical activity I’ve ever seen any Greek do is swing worry beads.  Why are they so passionate about volleyball?

 Only in Athens.

 Today my art and archaeology class met at the National Archaeological Museum.  We walked around the enormous museum discussing the classical ideal-specifically amongst male nudes.  Then all of a sudden Vince Vaughn walked by.  Now talk about an ideal male.  I couldn’t believe it.  Last week I saw the Costner during class and now I get to see Vince Vaughn!  This is crazy.  I got a little giddy and acted all excited-he makes me laugh in all of his films (expect The Breakup. What was that?).  Now Vince Vaughn is something that I would riot in the streets of Athens for!

 I guess the rioting volleyball fans aren’t so crazy after all.  If I could get that excited over a stranger who I know nothing about, then who am I to judge them for getting excited over a sport that no one here seems to know anything about.  It’s nice to relax and zone out for the weekend but eventually you have to leave Oz and get back to Kansas.  Even if Kansas is a place where men riot about volleyball.  Good thing there is always a new yellow brick road to follow.

 Love,

 TZEINA

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