A Grecian Summer

It’s been eight years since I first stepped off the plane in Athens for an unforgettable summer in Greece. I was visiting to study ancient Greek theater with one of my favorite professors from Princeton, and I didn’t know what to be more excited about—the ancient ruins, the blue-green sea, or the tzatziki—a greek yogurt sauce that would soon eclipse my Frank’s Red Hot Obsession, i.e. I would discover that I also “put that sh*t on everything”. In so many ways, I felt reborn from this trip, an experience that would stay with me forever. I don’t know where exactly to begin, other than the first night, so let’s start there, and weave our way through the summer like the goddess Athena would a fine tapestry.

The first night we arrived, jet-lagged and a little bewildered for being in a foreign land, we were to attend a solo performance of Hippolytus, the classical Greek tragedy. Unlike the rest of the theater trips we attended all throughout the summer, I quickly fell asleep in the midst of the performance, despite desperately trying to stay awake as to not leave a bad first impression on my professor. Leaving the show, I remembered how for the first time I truly felt like I was in a foreign land. All of the street signs were not only in a different language, but in a different alphabet, and there was no way for me to just call my mom for help or even use google translate if I needed to find my way back to the group. I was far away from home, and I began to feel terribly home sick. But as time went on, somehow I began to feel even more at home in Greece than I felt in US of A.

Theater

After my falling asleep fiasco, I was sure to stay awake for the rest of the theater performances we would attend this summer. Some were truly breathtaking, some I had no idea what was going on because of the language barrier, but all were memorable. My favorite was one that we saw during our final weeks, about Odysseus and the Cyclops, played by a fem-nomenal all female cast. We saw all kinds of performances, from small indie plays to massive concert hall spectacles. But what I took away from every single one was the passion for theater that was in the DNA of this land, steeped and imprinted on the soul from the ancients, continuing on almost like a religion into modernity.

Art

Just as intrinsic to the cultural experience was the art of this mythical land. Art was everywhere, like a living installation. Whether it was found by following the cats scurrying the trellis-lined streets leading to ancient temples, or in old marble and bronze statues perfecting the human form, art was central to this world. I traveled all over that summer, not only to Athens, but to the islands, and I will always remember distinctly the temple to Poseidon overlooking the Grecian sea. The columns rose to the heavens, and the open-hearted center caught the sea breeze as you stood where holy rights were once performed. High on a hill, above the heavens, you could feel you were closer to something higher, maybe closer to the Gods. We were always elevated, whether literally and physically on a hill or when experiencing an artistic work. There was something to be said of a culture that still placed so much value on art, and the beauty it captures. The sheer beauty of this world was incomprehensible, immersive, seemingly untouchable, and yet as I embraced the columns with my finger tips, it was also all too real. Magical. Higher, not of the world I had known before.

The Sea 

Never have I ever seen so many colors of water as I did experiencing the sea in Greece. By Athens, it was a light blue-green. On the islands, a deep cerulean. By Santorini, indigo. But my favorite was by the small island garden I spent the final two weeks with my class, which was more green than blue. This emerald teal went for several feet over a rocky shore, and as we walked with swimming shoes over the pebbles, we could float in this oasis of what looked like melted sea-glass. I had lost connection to religion for many years, but just floating there in that water, held, divinely, it was clear to me there was something more to this world than an absence of spirit. Here, in this land of the Gods, of such ethereal beauty that had once seemed to only be dreamed, how could there not be something more mystical holding us all together. How could Athena not have woven a tapestry that interlinked our lives to such heavenly beauty, to such splendor? How could the divine not be all around us, as I floated and looked to sunflowers and orange trees rising towards the sky in this miracle of nature?

The Food

If any part of this experience could compare to the art, the culture, the ruins, the sea, it was the food. Sumptuous, to say the least. As I stayed in Athens, some days I would treat myself to a visit to the local bakery just for a loaf of fresh bread and pastries. But the magic was really in the tavernas, where there were dips galore. Hummus, fish dips, and most importantly, tzatziki. As we say in the states for red hot sauce, I now put that creamy, delicious yogurt and cucumber sh*t on EVERYTHING. Especially Gyros, which, did you know, come with french fries wrapped inside in Greece? Tell your local diner that their Chicken souvlaki needs to be tried and true and include french fries inside the wrap too! My favorite meals were simple, however. In my final weeks, just as I savored the sea of the garden villa we were staying at, I also savored the food—particularly breakfast. I treasured the fresh greek yoghurt, which I covered in fresh honey and jams. I also savored the sea food, which we would have with our class before theater performances in the evening. One night I even made a simple fish dish for myself, which was one of my all time favorite meals. I took some frozen mussels, and sautéed them in a red sauce with shallots and onions. Delicious. Even frozen is better in Greece!

Love

By the end of the summer, I felt even more at home in Greece than in the states. The warmth, the sun, not just from the Athens heat but in the hearts of the people and friends I made would stay with me forever. Perhaps the highlight was not a summer romance, but the friendships I made with my classmates and the locals, learning about the culture, learning about myself. Feeling so deeply connected with something bigger, and higher. Like the magic of the sea, this profound wonder I felt connected to an ancient feeling of love of humanity, and for the humanities, for the beauty of human beings that was so sacred and revered not just in temples but in art, in theater, in the entire Greek culture. It was not la dolce vita, like the Italians would say, but a love for one another and a love for life that permeated this land, and stayed with me as I returned home after my several weeks abroad, tanned and longing to stay in the sea forever. The time will always stay with me, just like the magic of the sea.