Athens - Right Here and Now, It Means Everything
- Themi Alexandra
- May 19
- 5 min read
I’ve wanted to be a polyglot for a long time. There are two dreams wrapped in that one desire to be multilingual. I want to become fluent in Spanish and I want to learn basic Greek. The second dream was reignited during a recent trip to the Netherlands of all places (see Being Funny in a Foreign Language).
I met an Athenian cafe owner in Alkmaar. I cobbled together a conversation in Greek using the few words and phrases I know. I floated out of the cafe and told my travel companion Mary that I wanted to hop the next plane to Athens and immerse myself in learning. I said it the same way you dreamily discuss going to the airport and hopping the next flight to anywhere. In the moment the desire was real but the reality felt far-fetched.
I’m a sober drunk person. When I’m excited I don’t say things I don’t mean. Euphoria is my drug of choice. After Alkmaar I thought about that comment a lot because I knew there was a lot of truth in that fantasy. The questions that came up felt too big: When would I have that kind of time to travel to Greece? What about my job? Aren’t you too old to learn a language?
And then I lost my job. It’s like the universe heard me in Alkmaar and took a few months to clear the runway. The only obstacle left between my dream of learning Greek was me. Could I spend the money to go all that way when I wasn’t working? Shouldn’t I be looking for a job? “Now is the time to be practical, not fanciful!” is what my inner monologue was shouting. And if you know anything about my inner monologue, she is practical AF. Maybe it’s my paternal Spartan side, but we do not mess about, particularly when it comes to money (see In My Blood).
Luckily, I let my left brain get in the game and whisper things like “When are you going to have this freedom and time again?” And when I thought about that question the answer was likely not until I retire. Losing my job has shifted my attitudes towards time and money. The money will come back, the time won’t. As for my age, too old for what, learning? I’m a lifelong learner. As for failure, I’d rather try and fail than not try at all. Just ask the many men I have approached who have rejected me. I’d rather shoot my shot than live with what if. Ultimately, that’s what it came down to, regret.
Would I regret not taking this opportunity, yes.
I spent months vacillating after being laid off: should I stay in Chicago and be practical or should I go to Athens and be impractical? I thought a lot about time. I’m beyond mid-life, so if not now, when my friend. Nothing lights a fire quite like the realization you have more years behind you than ahead of you. It was getting real hot in here.
More than mine, I am motivated by my parents' age. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one. My desire to learn Greek is because I want to speak it with them. Here and now. Simple as that.
When I told my bestie Mario about this dream, he jokingly asked me just how close I want to be with my parents? I told him I would crawl back inside my mom if I could. I said it for emphasis, for a laugh. But as I write it, I see the truth in that wisecrack. I was born at 24 weeks, robbed of my final trimester in the womb by my premature birth. So maybe that was pre-natal me talking to Mario.
If you know me at all, you know just how close I am with my parents and just how sentimental I am. Speaking of my sentimentality, I’m also doing it for my yiayias and papous. I grew up with Greek being spoken in my house and my grandparents' homes, just not by me. My great-grandparents came to America at the turn of the 20th century. My parents both grew up in multigenerational households on the west side of Chicago in the Austin neighborhood. They lived among their parents and their grandparents who only spoke Greek.
I grew up in close proximity (geographically and emotionally) to both sets of grandparents. I wasn’t the kid who only saw them on summer break or at Christmas. I saw them weekly, sometimes daily, because I grew up across the street from my dad’s parents, Al and Diane. I was maybe five years old the first time I remember getting in trouble because I crossed the street to my grandparents by myself. Al and Diane had a rotary phone on their kitchen wall that greeted you as soon as you walked in the back door. That day, I came through the back and soon after the rotary rang, with my parents looking for me. They were pissed and I didn’t understand why. I was like I’m just at yiayia and papous, calm down. The notion of telling someone where I was let alone crossing the street solo was beyond me. Yiayia Diane did her best to try and convince dad not to punish me.
My grandparents may be gone, but they are still here to protect and inspire me. They would be thrilled to know that I am trying to learn their language. I still want to make them proud because they are still with me in spirit. Their memories are held close to my heart and occasionally they visit me in my dreams. I feel their presence over me more than ever since my accident.
I am not ready to write about the accident that could have ended me. But I will say this. There is no good reason why I was able to walk away from the scene of that hit. The only explanation I have is that my grandparents weren’t ready to receive me yet. To Al, Diane, Ed, and Helen: thank you so much for looking out for me. The rest of my life is for you.
I’ll never forget being in the hospital room when my papou Al died. It was the most humbling experience of my life. As he lay in bed his wife Diane kissed his forehead and whispered to him “Go home. Be with your mom and dad.” I had to have my mom translate her sweet directions since she gave them in Greek. The last thing she ever said to him was in their first language.
So I came to my great-grandparents' home to find connection with my family and their mother tongue. I warned you I was sentimental. That river runs deep through my soul. My grandparents are the reason I walked away that November day. They are my guardian angels guiding me to where I’m meant to be.
That place is Athens, Greece. For the next month I will take online Greek classes while I apply what I learn in daily life. I feel called to be here while I have the time. Will I find another job, eventually. Will I get this kind of opportunity again, unlikely.
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