E.L.E.P.A.P

Today was my first day volunteering at ELEPAP, a school for disabled children about a ten minute walk from the school. It was such an amazing experience; I’m so glad I went. They have kids of all ages but I’m working with the young kids, ages 2-7. There are twenty kids, split into two classes based on cognitive abilities. A lot of the students have cerebral palsy, Down syndrome, or Asperger’s. From now on I’ll stick with one class until spring break and then finish out the semester with the other, but since today was my first day I spent an hour with each class.

The kids were so sweet, I’m completely in love with them! I spent the first hour with the higher-functioning kids. At first I kind of just sat there awkwardly, but as the time went on I got more involved. The guy that runs that class speaks great English and was explaining how everything works to me. I actually learned a lot of Greek, because the hour I was there they were working on teaching the kids the names of colors, foods, kitchen items, etc using plastic toys. Plus, the Greek he spoke to the children was pretty simple and slow so I could understand a lot of it. There was one adorable blond girl who seemed to be operating at a higher level than the rest of them and acted sort of as their leader. Apparently when she arrived at the school a year ago, she didn’t speak a single word—it was so great to see her dancing, playing with a little fake guitar and singing Christmas carols to me! Then there were two boys, aged 5 and 2 1/2, who were brothers and were probably my favorites (even though I don’t think you’re supposed to have favorites…or is that mothers?). They couldn’t speak as well but neither could I, so I just made faces or played little games with them and it was so much fun!

The next hour I spent with the more seriously disabled kids, who can’t really speak and most of whom can’t walk/are in chairs. That was a little harder to see, but they were still such sweethearts. One little girl toddled over and gave me a hug, and then just sort of swung off my hands, giggling. I’m so excited to work with these kids—it seems like I’ll actually be doing something to help, unlike the soup kitchen where I get the feeling I’m definitely not needed, just politely and patronizingly tolerated. Depending on how it goes I think I might try to volunteer more than once a week.

Other than that, I just had a busy day of classes today. I got my first ever college paper back (A) and took two tests. Everything was closed by the time I got home but it’s OK—yesterday my friend and I took a bus to Carrefour, the big supermarket where everything is really cheap, and I stocked up on non-perishable type groceries (veggies and stuff I’ll still get daily from the local vegetable lady). An added bonus, I found the Carrefour-brand version of the delicious cereal I’ve spent many a day searching for, always an exciting find.

On the downside, I wore jeans today and rubbed my burn raw. I hate this stupid thing!

Oh Hey There, Sun!

It was so beautiful out today! It’s amazing that it was snowing and cold and gross out yesterday, and today, though not hot, it was warmer and the sun was shining and the sky was blue. It made me very happy!

I got my Greek test back today—90. Not too shabby! It means nothing though—I memorized a few grammar rules right before the test. I still can’t speak; I did better than the kids that are really Greek and live with Greek speakers, etc. I have two tests tomorrow but that’s pretty much all. Other than that, walked past a man peeing in an abandoned lot at four in the afternoon on the way back from school. Oh, Thessaloniki, what wonders will you greet me with tomorrow?

It was also my RA’s birthday today, so we all went out to dinner. I love that my building is small and cozy enough for that. And of course, Abby made a delicious cake for us to have when we got back.

Phallus Festival!

**WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS PICTURES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF A FESTIVAL ENTIRELY DEVOTED TO THE PENIS WHICH MAY BE INAPPROPRIATE FOR YOUNGER READERS***

Well hey there! Just got back from the penis festival in Tyrnavos. It actually wasn’t as mad crazy as I was expecting, but it was so much fun, I’m so glad I went! Now I can say that I’ve been to a Dionysian pagan fertility festival! What did you do with your Monday?

In the rest of Greece, Clean Monday is spent as a family day, with the traditional activity of flying kites. In Thessaloniki today, there were free kites in Aristoteles Square and all sorts of food and I think a family-friendly parade. In Tyrnavos, a tiny little Greek town two hours from Thessaloniki and about 10 km from Larissa, they celebrate “Dirty Monday” with their annual phallus festival.

It’s pretty much just as you imagine it. We get to Tyrnavos and they set us down about a five minute walk to the town center—we know which way to go by following the crowd just let off a coach bus. The festival itself is relatively small, in keeping with the size of the town. There are stalls set up in the center and within about a two-block radius, but no further. But in this concentrated area there are more penises of all shapes, sizes, and materials than you can possibly imagine. Our first experience, as we were still on the outskirts of the festival, was with an old man with a fishing pole. There was a wooden penis tied to the end of the string and he was waving it around, calling and laughing in Greek trying to hit us with it. We knew right then it was going to be an interesting day.

Penises were everywhere. Candy penises, candle penises, bread, cake, ceramic, puppet penises galore. At one stand there were wooden penises of all different sizes, but they looked like they might serve a humorous if practical purpose. I asked the stall owner in Greek, “What is this?” meaning, “What does this thing do?” He looks at me like I’m mental and says, deadpan, “πέος”—penis. There was music blasting over loudspeakers all over the place, and it sounded like traditional Greek folksy-type music—but when I listened to the words, I’m pretty sure all the lyrics were really dirty—I recognized penis, ass, and fuck you.

The whole festival was one large joke, and I loved it! You’re supposed to giggle and snicker at everything you pass, and the people of the town encourage it. It’s amazing that this place, which is normally just like any other quiet little town in Greece, goes absolutely crazy once a year and invites everyone to come watch.

I think the best way to walk you through my day is through pictures and accompanying descriptions, so here we go. Avert your eyes, ye faint of heart!

Here’s just some examples of the variety of penis. They had tables and tables of this red penis candy, in various shapes and sizes, some with giant candy balls and some you couldn’t possibly fit in your mouth (what do they do with the excess, save it for next year? Sell them super cheap at the end?). Next is a picture of a penis cake a pastry shop had out to entice you in. The bread penis outside a bakery was as big as me, but they had smaller loaves you could buy inside. Next to the giant bread penis was a penis rocking horse that one tiny child was riding very enthusiastically, it was hilarious.

Then of course there were giant paper-mache penises everywhere that you could pose with, like this guy below or that crazy girl in the next picture…

It should be noted that there were literally all kinds of people at this festival. I actually think my age group was in the minority. As mentioned before, there were little kids, and lots of them, begging their parents for penis candy, walking around and seeing the sites. This cute little boy was trying on a hat, giggling and swinging around the balls attached to the brim. The next picture is of the old guy with the penis on a fishing pole, looking to “catch” unsuspecting passerby. And lastly was just some random guy we saw at lunch. Note the penis nose and, well, the penis, that he used to smack some lady eating her meal.

  

Our lunch was amazing. We sat down outside at a table next to this Greek couple and were trying to decide what to order. We looked over to their table and they had some amazingly good-looking food, so I leaned over and used my most polite Greek to ask what it was. She told me and then was asking where I was from, what I’m doing here, all in Greek. They were so friendly and recommended things on the menu. When the waiter came he gave us a pad to write what we wanted and they offered (keep in mind this is all in Greek and I understood and communicated with them, I’m pretty proud of myself) to write down what we wanted for us. It probably would have actually been easier for us to do it ourselves, but they were so enthusiastic and excited to help us, though for a minute we thought they were going to order us way more food than we really wanted. It turned out all right, though. While we were waiting for our food to come out they whipped out a loaf of penis bread and offered it to us and wouldn’t take it back until they felt we took enough. I’m pretty sure they were locals, because they called the waiter by name, and, along with the table next to them, seemed to have brought some food from home that they also shared with us. They were so amazing—they gave us these delicious olives that they had prepared in some sauce, horta (a Greek vegetarian dish) they had obviously made themselves, and they gave us some of the delicious kalamari they had ordered. I felt bad taking all their food, and the food of the next table that they gave us, but it was so yummy and they were so nice—we ended up with a much bigger meal than we anticipated for three euro each! Here’s a picture of us with the wife, she was so sweet!

Everyone we met and talked to in Tyrnavos were really great. All throughout the streets, the “bourani people” have little fires going and are cooking bourani (μπουράνι), a spinach/nettle soup that’s the specialty of the festival and is supposed to be an aphrodisiac or good for your penis, something along those lines. Abby (in the purple above) and I made it our mission to get some of this soup. It was hard though—one pot was guarded by the penis-fishing old man, and another was in the main square and surrounded by a huge crowd. The bourani people, all middle-aged/old men, cook the soup in these cauldrons, wearing aprons with little phalluses painted on in the appropriate area. As they’re stirring the soup, they grab women from the crowd, lift them up over the soup and have them stir, and won’t let them down until they kiss this giant penis hand-puppet one guy has. It’s supposed to bless both the soup and the girl, fertility-wise. Supposedly. We kept edging closer and closer trying to figure out how to get a hold of a bowl, when Katie (middle above) and I were grabbed and hoisted into the air! It was so funny, I was laughing hysterically. Hopefully Abby got some good pictures that I can snag from her and post up later. The only bad part was my burn—they grab you from under the legs, and they sort of messed up the bandage a little, but I was fine. The second they put us down, I grabbed one of the guys and started asking for soup. I had a whole conversation with him in Greek; I’m so proud of how much I spoke today! Of course, I didn’t really know how to say it, so I just used a ton of polite words and said “I want a cup!” He told me what was in it and when I asked how much it cost he said five. I said OK and he came back with two bowls, but when I tried to give him the money he just put it back in my jacket pocket and went to get us some penis bread to dip in it—I think he was actually saying it would be ready in about five seconds, but I didn’t understand right. It was so nice of him to give us two bowls and bread for free. Plus, I asked at just the right time, because it was ready and everyone in the square descended on this little pot, but he got some for us. It was delicious, and surprisingly sweet. The two bowls were more than enough for four of us to split.

Below, a pot of bourani. The crowded square where they’re making the bourani; you can see the giant penis-puppet thing. And lastly, me doing was I did for most of the day, eating. The bourani was excellent!

I did eat a lot today. The nice people at the restaurant stuffed us to the brim like good Greek grandparents would; I ate bourani, and they had stalls of λουκουμάδες, one of my favorite Greek desserts that I’ve haven’t yet seen on my trip (when there are Greek fairs back home, I literally go to have a huge gyro and a bowl of λουκουμάδες all to myself). They were offering them with a chocolate sauce that I’ve never seen before and it looked good, but I stuck with the classic honey. I bought a penis-lolly, but I was too full to eat it and it’s sitting in my room.

I don’t know if you can tell from any of the pictures, but it was actually snowing when we were there! I couldn’t believe it; Tyrnavos is more up in the mountains, but apparently it snowed in Thessaloniki while we were gone too. I thought we’d escaped all that by coming to Greece! Apparently it’s never like this in March…At any rate, it made it a little uncomfortable to walk around—nothing was really open, everything was either stalls or outdoor tables, so we couldn’t go inside to get warm. If it had been nicer out we probably would have stayed a little longer, but we saw everything there was to see and went back early, which was fine by everyone.

I’m just so excited to take these little cheap trips to the areas immediately around Thessaloniki—it’s just a great way to get to know the country and its people. Halfway through the bus ride, we saw this huge, gorgeous white stone castle on a plateau overlooking a beach with crashing waves right below it to one side and beautiful mountains directly to the other side. It was amazing—we looked for road signs nearby and wrote down the names so we can hopefully find it and come back. I love finding things like that; it was so cool, and just popped out of nowhere!

Anyways, a very fun day, and an interesting way to kick of Lent! Hope your Monday was as bizarrely different as mine—shake it up!

Slow Saturday

This is actually the first weekend in a few where I’ve had nothing going on. I slept in this morning, and when I woke I initially decided to go for a jog (Anyone who knows me knows I NEVER run, so this shows you how terrified I am of getting fat over here). Then I sat up, and remembered my gimpy leg.

So instead I spent 2 and a half hours cleaning my room and bathroom. Intensely. I mopped and trapped myself in the bathroom, and cleaned that while I waited for the floor to dry. I literally had to leave the room afterwards or be asphyxiated by the chemical smell. At least it’s won out over the wet death smell that’s been pervading the hallway…

I haven’t left the apartment all day. I wanted to go read my Anthro book down by the water, but it’s cold out—one teacher yesterday said if we’re lucky we’ll see flurries. Lucky? I don’t think so. I really hope I can put on proper pants tonight, because if I’m stuck indoors all night I might go crazy.

I Choose…That One.

Today I had to get up early to go to the hospital again so they could check my chest x-rays and give me a piece of paper saying I don’t have TB. Working at Meadow Ridge, where all the old people are afraid they’re going to die of consumption, I’ve been TB tested at least four times already this year. But whatever. We were in the waiting room forever, watching kid after adorable kid came in and out. Literally, Greek babies are the cutest I’ve ever seen—I don’t believe there’s such a thing as an ugly baby, but there is definitely no such thing in Greece. There’s a surprising number of them with blond hair, and an even larger number with piercing blue or green eyes. It’s adorable. We spent the hours we were in the waiting room making faces at the babies and picking which one we were going to snatch and make our building’s mascot. We settled on one tiny little boy who was running around; he would just be so cute to have roaming around Papa K!

After that I had to take the bus all the way down to school just to turn in a paper, since I spent the class time at the hospital. Then I went home and took a nap; I think this leg injury is draining me of my life force. It’s taking so much of my energy to heal that it leaves me super tired, and I think gives me a weakened immune system as well.

Kelli and I spent a good three and a half hours tonight trying to book spring break. It’s so frustrating, because we had a pretty good plan that we managed to turn into an AMAZING plan, with all sorts of awesome stops throughout Italy and Spain for two and a half weeks, for what we thought was only going to be 240 euro for all the flights, trains, and buses. We were so wrong it wasn’t even funny. All those uber-cheap airlines that advertise flights for 7 euro hit you with so many service charges and fees it’s ridiculous; there were sometimes 12 euro fees for using a credit card to book the flight, even though there was no other way to do it. On a bunch of the flights, fees could add up to more that double of what the ticket itself cost. It’s just incredibly frustrating, especially when on a budget, to think you’re getting this amazing deal and then to find that it’s actually going to cost way more than you thought. We had to cut out one of the stops because the expected 10 euro flight cost turned into 100. In the grand scheme of things our flights are still pretty cheap, but just not as magically cheap as we expected. Although we should have known--if it’s too good to be true, it probably isn’t.

“This is not a class, it’s pure adventure…like Indiana Jones!”

My leg is feeling a lot better. It still looks pretty nasty, but nasty over a smaller area, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. It will still take time to heal completely, hopefully so it won’t scar. Everyone keeps telling me if this was America, I could sue. I’m very annoyed, because I had planned to go out tonight but I still can only wear sweats—all my jeans and tights are too tight to try and pull up, I’m too nervous I’ll do damage—and my longest dress is still too short, since the bandage reaches down to my knee, and I just don’t want to expose anyone to that nastiness. I still had fun hanging out with everyone until they left, it’s just really frustrating not being able to leave with them!

I got a hair cut today. Considering I hadn’t had one for months when I was in the states, I felt I owed it to my poor split ends. I guess I just have to accept that my hair will never grow long enough fast, ever. At any rate, it was a very nerve-wracking experience; the hairdresser spoke some English (if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have stayed), but it’s still hard to communicate exactly what it is that I wanted. I was pretty nervous in the chair, but it came out alright. Not spectacular, but not the worst hair-cut I’ve ever had.

The quote is from my adorable folklore teacher—she’s small and Greek and so much fun, and was telling us about a proposed field trip to have class where Aristotle taught Alexander the Great. Pure adventure, pretty much sums up my experience so far here in Greece!

Burn, Baby Burn

Not a fun day today. Last night I went out with my building for tea and coffee. I was sitting on a stool and the waiter came up behind me and spilled a huge, steaming, sizzling mug of fresh hot tea all over me. It went all over the back of my leg, and I was wearing thin tights that offered no protection and instead clung burning to my skin. This being Greece, of course, he didn’t even apologize or give us free stuff, and actually still tried to rip the group off at the end of the night.

I didn’t stay until the end, though; I knew it was bad and went right home. I was going to take the bus but as I limped through the street trying not to cry, I flagged down the first cab that came by and went home. The cabbie was trying to talk to me but I could hardly think straight because of the pain. I got home, peeled off my pants, and it was just as I feared; the entire back/side of my thigh was red and blistered. It’s really nasty and disgusting, I won’t go into any more detail than that. I ran it under cold water and found some Neosporin to put on it, took some Motrin, and went to sleep as best I could, holding an icepack to my leg.

It still hurts really badly today, and looks absolutely revolting, but it’s not as bad as yesterday. I actually was scheduled to go to the hospital for a TB shot and chest X-ray for my residency permit, so while I was there I had them take a look at it. They just made sympathetic “oooohhhh” sounds and didn’t actually do anything, so I called the school doctor and she took a look and got me all bandaged up so I could at least sit down.

I went to a pharmacy after school to pick up more gauze and burn cream, and the guy behind the counter made me feel really bad—not because he was mean, but because he was so nice. I just asked for what I needed and then he was asking where is the burn, how big, how bad, those type of hot liquid burns are the worst to deal with, if only I had come to him sooner it would probably be less painful now. He seemed really upset the doctor hadn’t prescribed any antibiotics or anything, and told me if I needed anything or if it got worse to come straight back. I really was just looking for someone to hand me what I needed and for some reason this made me almost cry.

So now I’m sitting here in my room with a huge bandage and no pants on, wallowing, eating nutella, and pretty much feeling sorry for myself. It sucks to get hurt away from home—I just want my mommy! Instead I still have to get myself dinner, get my work done and keep going tomorrow. It sucks to be a grown-up!