You're On Your Own, Kid: Week 2 Athens

My first week in Athens was an absolute test of wills. At first it felt like me against Athens but as the week progressed it became a test against myself. Could I handle the challenges I faced against my comfort, my body, my faith in myself? My first night I went to bed questioning my decision to come. And yet I knew not to trust that tired, overwhelmed, and scared voice that was spiraling. I told myself to wait a week before making any decisions about my stay (See Stuck In A Moment).

I’m so glad I listened to that patient voice and rode week one out. My eighth day in Athens started better than any before it because I slept through the night for the first time. The power of a good night’s sleep is a game changer. I woke up feeling renewed with more hope than the day before. And wouldn’t you know later that day the internet connection was restored! I wanted to weep in gratitude when I heard the welcoming gong of Netflix. It wasn’t only about access to entertainment, it was about feeling connected to something familiar.

More importantly, the internet connection meant I could begin my online Greek lessons with Dimitris! My adventure felt like it actually began when I logged on for the first lesson. This is what I came for - to learn Greek! And to learn it while living in Greece to have the privilege of real world practice every day. I was thrilled to begin my language learning journey.

Before I knew it was ordering my entire meal in Greek, even if it was painfully slow and measured, it was a win! Another win was getting on local dinner time. I don’t leave the apartment before 8PM to head for dinner. Initially this felt wild for someone who usually eats in the six o’clock hour. As time went on it felt increasingly natural because my body clock was completely out of whack. 

Because of the later dinner, most days I’m in bed after 1AM and then waking up around 11AM. I decided to listen to my body as it adjusted to a new circadian rhythm and way of life. This whole experience is about newness and slowing down. I let my latent Mediterranean spirit come to life and I was loving the vacation from a routine and an alarm clock. Themi lives a life of routine and discipline. Efthemia lives a slow life of leisure. 

About to board my first bus in Athens.

My Mediterranean spirit is more relaxed and much more adventurous. She has nothing to lose and everything to gain in experience. Another new experience this week was riding the bus. I don’t know why I found the bus more intimidating than the train but it was easier than I expected since the routes are numbered and the stops are called out in Greek and English. Turns out the bus is fool proof since they have a digital screen with a map that shows the route and next stop. It was so crowded I couldn’t get close enough to the pay pad and no one noticed or said anything so as the 70s classic goes, “come on and take a free ride,” I accidentally did Edgar Winter. 

I eventually got a seat and as I sat down the woman facing me started speaking to me. On the one hand, I was elated that I was passing for a local! On the other hand, I was disappointed that I didn’t understand her. I told her I’m sorry, I don’t speak Greek well, I’m a beginner. And with that admission the conversation stopped just like the bus at the next stop.

This is one Greek phrase I had down cold because I found myself saying it a lot. People are spontaneously speaking to me regularly. When I travel I’m always grateful for my dark features because it makes me look ethnically ambiguous and less American (as long as I keep my mouth shut since my hard a’s are a dead giveaway). Spanish, Italian, Armenian, if they have dark hair I can likely pass. I frequently get asked if I am Spanish when abroad. Last year it happened in Istanbul with my dad (see Time Waits For No One) and it happened this week in the Plaka. A man asked if I was from Barcelona. I said no, my family actually comes from Greece. The woman next to him said diplomatically, she looks Mediterranean. 

I guess I look more Greek than I ever understood. Sure my coloring and nose are immediate tells but I think the other thing is that I’m alone. Tourists usually come in pairs or groups. So flying solo gives me a more local air as does my attire. I’m not dressing like I’m on vacation. My daily wardrobe is absent of bright colors or tropical prints. I pride myself on packing light and I do it by keeping it neutral which for me is 90% black, white, and olive green. 

If week two taught me anything, besides how Greek I look, it’s that I’m doing a good job of assimilating to my new city and culture. I’ve got public transit down, I’m conversing in Greek however briefly, and I’m on local dining time. Speaking of dining, Efthemia is more epicureanly adventurous than Themi. My neighborhood has a seemingly endless supply of estiatorios (restaurants) and I want to try as many as possible. 

One night walking along Fokionos Negri I picked a place purely based on its lively vibes. As I perused the Cretan Basque menu at ¡Topa!  I quickly realized I didn't recognize almost anything on offer. I was about ready to walk out when the waitress came by to ask if I had any questions. I made a split second decision to make a different choice. Instead of walking out I decided to walk into the unknown of this fusion menu. I said “I don’t recognize much. What do you recommend?” She suggested four dishes and I took them all since this was a small plate situation. 

Several small plates at ¡Topa! 

This was a culinary coup. I am not a picky eater but I have a limited palette of what I truly enjoy and more often than not will go with familiarity and comfort over something new and different. In that moment between potentially fleeing and ordering, I asked myself “when will I get the opportunity to try Cretan Basque food again?” I seized the moment as if it was my only chance. 

The risk of trying something new came with a very delicious reward. I enjoyed everything! I had seasonal cheese with fresh fruit which just happened to be nectarines, one of my summer faves. The seasonal greens reminded me of horta (boiled dandelion greens served with olive oil and lemon) and were exceptional. The pepper dish was a delight. Don’t ask me for specifics because I eat to sustain myself and enjoy the taste. A gourmand I am not (note: this was a conscious decision to avoid the word foodie. I abhor the word and anyone who uses it to describe themself makes me lose my appetite). 

The final plate was dolmades. The only thing I recognized from overall Greek cuisine. Admittedly I don’t like dolmades but I decided to try their take and see if they change my mind. Wish granted. They were the first I ever enjoyed. I liked their tiny size, no bigger than a pinky finger. In the US they are giant, almost on par with a Taco Bell burrito, and for whatever reason the size negatively impacted my opinion. Is there anything more exciting than changing your mind? I love it. It reminds me of our capacity for change, whether it’s something as small as a dish or for me as big as a band, like the complete about-face I’ve recently done on Steely Dan. It reminds me that many things aren’t truly fixed and I find that thrilling. 

I brought this flair for new food to another neighborhood spot. I passed Pantika Kitchen countless times on my walks and this was the night I decided to walk in and say “Tha ithela trapezi ena” (I’d like a table for one). I was offered a spot at the empty community table or the bar. The bar was the obvious choice because when you saddle up you’re never alone. 

I immediately felt at home as I looked around with their posters from movies (Trainspotting) and music (everyone from Iggy Pop to Tupac). This was the second music-forward restaurant I had been to in Kypseli in just as many weeks. I would later find out that Kypseli is known for being an artsy neighborhood. 

I was warmly welcomed to the bar by Dimitri who I would later learn is one of the owners. When I bursted his bubble and told him I’m a beginner in Greek, he switched to English and introduced me to Khalil, the barback. He said Khalil speaks excellent English and can keep you company. English is just one of three languages Khalil speaks in addition to French and Arabic since he’s from Tunisia. I asked him how hard it is to learn Greek and he said it’s been five years and he hasn’t caught on. I was not surprised since this week I’ve been told twice already that learning Greek is as hard as Mandarin. So you’re saying it’s hard, message received. One woman said if I learned I’d be a genius. 

Not one to get discouraged by a challenge, I used the little Greek I knew with Dimitri each time he checked in. He was patient and gracious not to mention his English was better than he initially let on. We talked about the awesome music playing. Backpack rap had transitioned to a full grunge playlist that spoke to the eternal teenager in my heart. Music is universal and how lucky am I that English is the language for so much of popular music. 

Dimitri shared that music is a big part of what he and Chef Christos do at Pantika which means radical. They play what they want as loud as they want and I can get behind that. I pointed to the framed photo of Matty Matheson facing me and asked if he had seen The Bear. I forget how much the eyes speak and it turns out “Duh” needs no translation. But hearing him say Matty Matheson with his charming accent was worth the embarrassment of asking the obvious. I said “Meno apo ti Chicago” (I live in Chicago) and he didn’t realize The Bear was set in Chicago. Which made me realize why would he? I don’t know if it’s ever explicitly mentioned. It’s explicitly clear to me in the visuals, but that’s a local pov. Another good lesson in perspective, to step outside your own and see it from someone else’s.

When it came time for dessert, Dimitri said “I know you mentioned the chocolate, but it’s not my favorite.” Many Greeks will freely share their opinion and I love it because it’s the opposite of the phony niceness we get all too often in the states. Fresh off my success at ¡Topa!, I said I’d like to try his favorite. Again, people recommend it for a reason. Find out why and see if it’s for you. Dimitr’s desert wasn’t a homerun but I took a chance on something new and that’s what so much of this experience is about. Not everything is going to be a win. I’m here for wins, loses, and everything in between. 

I came to get a sense of what it feels like to live in Athens, not visit Athens and check every landmark off an itinerary. I say that from a place of privilege. I’ve been here six times before and don’t feel pressure to visit landmarks or museums. I came for the language, the culture, the lived experience. My night at Pantikaa is a great example of what I came for and I appreciate Dimitri and Khalil (on his first night no less) for keeping me company and making me feel at home. 

Week two had me more at home in my body too. It was a huge relief that my body was feeling better, my cane was boosting my confidence, and I was on a four night sleep streak as the week wrapped. 

The other morning I woke up to white noise so strong that I thought the AC had spontaneously turned on overnight. It took me several minutes in my soporific stupor to register that it was the sound of rain. Pouring rain. It was the most glorious way to wake. It was so cozy and inviting that for a few minutes I tried getting back in bed to wrap myself in the white noise a little while longer. Not only did I want to stay in bed a little bit longer, but I started thinking about extending my stay. 

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