This is Spartaaaa!

Statue of Leonidas.

Ancient Sparta

Me walking around and looking at the remains.

Ruins at Sparta

My sister.

Do not follow her lead!

"This is Spartaaaaaa!"

Ancient Theatre

More ruins.

The road that led us to the ancient site.

Now that I have been back in Canada for a little over a week, I can return to blogging and reflect on some of the places and things that I have seen in Greece. One of the sites my sis and I visited was Sparta, 2.5 hrs bus ride from Athens.

Sparta - History

Located in the mountainous region of Lakonia in the Peloponnese, Sparta was a great city state, equal only to Athens. They were a warrior state for Spartan boys had rigorous military training from when they were young. Shortly after birth, the mother of the child bathed it in wine to see whether the child was strong. If the child survived it was brought before the Gerousia by the child's father. The Gerousia then decided whether it was to be reared or not. If they considered it "puny and deformed", the baby was thrown into a chasm on Mt. Taygetos.

The Spartans rivalled Athens during the Peloponnesian Wars (war between the Greek city-states), but more importantly they were known for their courage during the Greco-Persian Wars. This was a series of wars between the Greeks and the invading Persians. During the Battle of Thermopylae they were led by King Leonidas, who held strong against the millions of Persian soldiers sent by Xerxes I. Leonidas had only his personal bodyguards (300 in number) and 7000 allied forces from other Greek city states. They held the pass of Thermopylae where they fought to the death. This enabled the other Greek city-states to gather their army for an eventual victory over the Persians.

(You can watch the Hollywood adaptation, the movie 300, which is pretty entertaining.)

Our Trip

My sister and I were quite excited to visit Sparta. When we were dropped off to the site of ancient Sparta, we saw the statue of Leonidas standing quietly in the middle of an empty small paved area. It was at the edge of town and there was no big "woo-ha" leading up the statue. To the unknowing passerby, it could have just been a statue of any person on the lonely stretch of the old town. It was not by any means glorious or guarded; the giant locusts hopped around the statue and the hot sun beat down on its cracked surface.

We walked down the street and saw the signs for the ancient site. We walked up a marbled (or cobbled?) street which led to what looked like a dry field, abandoned and sparse. There were olive trees around and dry bush everywhere. Beneath the tall grass and dry shrubs, we saw peaks of what was left of Sparta's greatness. Stone walls. We walked a little bit further and saw the remains of the theatre. The site was almost completely empty. I felt a sense of sadness as I realized the once great Spartans would soon be forgotten if this site continued to be left unkept. It appears as though there is hardly any restoration or preservation work being done routinely on the site, as the government chooses to focus on the Athenian ruins instead. Here, there were no strict guards following you around, making sure you didn't touch the ancient stones. You were left free to roam and think quietly. I was quite sad to come here and see this. I really felt for the Spartans and I think they deserve more. I hope that things will change and the government will start focusing on other sites to maintain.

As I walked back towards the exit, I saw a fellow Spartan citizen walking her dog through the ruins. I imagine they do this daily walk as part of their routine. I thought to myself, how Leonidas would never in a million years thought his kingdom would become a place where only a dogowner and her dog would be their devoted visitors.

Here, are a few pics...my sister insisted we re-enact a scene in the movie 300 where Leonidas kicks the Persian messenger into a well and screams "This is Spartaaaa!!!!" She also jumped into the site of the ancient theatre (much to my disapproval).

Final Assignment-Take Away

This final blog assignment is a deep one! The question is what can I take away from my experience in Greece? Some smart person once said that "We collect bits and bites along our life journey that make us the fascinating people that we are. Those bits could be lessons, examples, illuminations to reality, realizations of self, wider horizons, fresh directions, or deeper understanding."

And so, with this in mind, I think back to the two things that I did that made me feel really good inside....Forget the things I did for me - the great shopping, the site seeing, and even my MRP research - what made me think of was "Christina" and that "Kyriou" (Mr. in Greek) that sat everyday on the pavement at the top of my street.

On one of the last nights my sister was in Athens (and the last week for myself as well), my sister and I went to Monastiraki to do some late night shopping. Once the shops started to close down around 10pm, Sarah and I made our way back through the marbled streets and to the Metro station. As we scurried along, I saw a little girl on the pavement playing her accordion. She was really tiny with a head full of curls. I told my sis we should stop and give her money. I have encountered a lot of street kids and homeless people - many sang for change (just as those kids in the Slumdog Millionaire movie) and others played an accordion. But something about this little girl made me stop. I went up to her and asked. "Poso Lene?" (What is your name?) and she responded in the smallest and cutest voice, "Chris-ti-na." My sister asked her how old she was and she put down her accordion to hold up six tiny fingers. Immediately, I felt tears come to my eyes as I thought of my 5 yr old goddaughter back home, who was probably at that moment playing happily amongst friends in the comfort of her daycare centre. I thought to myself, Christina will never know what it is to feel that. We gave her change and my sister asked to take her picture. She smiled happily and my sister told her she was beautiful. It was so sad to leave her on the streets like that. I am sure her mother watched from nearby. That night I just felt sombre on the way home, thinking about what would eventually become of Christina. Will she grow up to become something or will she always beg on the streets of Athens? Her tiny voice and the way she said her name, "Chris-teen-a" still resonates in my ears.

The second event happened on the last night I was in Athens. By then, my family had left already and the CIG office/apartment was quiet without the usual chatter and laughter of my family. I finished up some work and cleaned out my kitchen. I had a lot of food left and I hate to waste. I thought of that man who sat in his raggedy clothes, barefoot and dirty, with his hand out asking for change. I passed him almost every day, as he stood post on that corner of my street. I packed him some torta (a filipino meat dish), rice, cucumbers, yogurt, chocolate, and a litre of orange Fanta. I walked up to him and said, "Kyriou, thelo?" then mimicked eating. I will never forget his big smiling face and his big blue eyes, as he saw me hand him the makeshift lunchbag I had prepared for him. As I walked down the street I turned back and saw him smile and give me a big wave. And even further down the street, I looked back and saw him holding that yogurt in his hands and chugging it hungrily. It felt so good to help him, I wished I had given him my whole fridge.

These two things made me feel so good inside. I wish I could help others more like this. It just gives you this feeling inside that makes you smile. I always remember this particular story when I turn my head away from beggars on the street. The story is as follows:

There was once a couple so poor that they had hardly anything to feed their kids. One day, they had saved up just enough to buy a loaf of bread. After a long trek to the market, they returned home with their single loaf of bread. On their way home, they came across an old beggar who sat on the road. He looked dirty, blind, and wore scraggly pieces of clothing. The old couple looked down and away from him, and kept walking. But after passing him, the couple looked at each other and thought that they can always save money again to buy another loaf, but this invalid beggar couldn't. They turned back around and put the loaf of bread in his hands. They returned home with a heavy foot, but a burden had been lifted off their hearts. They were glad to help another, but they were sad to disappoint their hungry kids who were awaiting them. They went home and went to bed. An hour later, there was a knock on their door and when they opened it, the beggar stood at their door. And he spoke to them, "You did not turn your back on me, and so I will not turn my back on you." From that day on, the couple and their family were blessed with good fortunes and blessings and were never poor or hungry again.

So whenever I begin to turn away I always think, what if that homeless person is Jesus in disguise, how can I turn away from Him? Now, that is not to say that I always give, there are times when I do look down and away and I am ashamed. So what would I rather feel, shamefulness or that warm fuzziness I felt in my heart when I saw Christina smile for the camera or Kyriou's big blue smiling eyes as he reached for the food?

Assignment #4-Tourist or Tempest?

It's hard for me to pick one over the other. I think that in some sense, I am still a tourist. I stop every so often to take photos of everything, even of a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. I can never get tired of staring in admiration at all of the beautiful sites.

However, I am only a tourist when it is convenient. For example, I have cut my Metro expenses by cheating and buying the student ticket for Greek students only (half price). My plan is that if I get caught, I will pull out the tourist card and pretend I was ignorant of that fact. After all, it read "student" and I am a student!

On the other hand, if I am shopping and the salespeople or store owners make conversations with me, I tell them I am working here in Greece. I want to give them the impression that I know what I am doing and let them know that they cannot gyp me! "I live here buddy!" is the impression I try to give out, so I throw around the few Greek words that I can speak. It also works for the street vendors, when you say "Ohi Efaristo" instead of "No thank you" because then they really listen and walk away.

I have also have began to dress like the Greek ladies. I quite enjoy wearing dresses and fancy things, even if I am just going down the street to buy groceries! It makes me feel prettier to be up to par with these fashionable Greeks.

So to sum it up, I am a bit of both....I eat at both family owned restaurants and big restaurants
in the tourists districts; I dress in my North American short shorts and tank but I also dress up more frequently; I have donned myself in authentic Made in Greece leather gladiator sandals but still asked my mom to bring my stilettoes when she arrived; and I secretly took tons of pics at an exhibit that had a No-Photograph-Policy, but scowled at that tourist who touched the marbles at the New Acropolis Museum.

And now, I leave you with something interesting found in the Athens In Your Pocket Tourist Guide: (I don't know whether to laugh or to be offended since I know they are making fun of North Americans!)

"Touristas Gormless
There's a certain kind of visitor of Greece that seems to be under the impression that a brain is not essential for travel. There's no mistaking them as they mill around the shops in Plaka or the slopes of the Acropolis. Often found in flocks, they are clearly distinguishable from the native species due to the bright scarlet markings on the head shoulders and arms. They seek out pools of blazing sunlight while the residents hide in the shade, and when in large packs have a distinctive braying cry that resembles that of donkeys. Their scientific name is Touristas Gormless, and though there are many subspecies, they share the same characteristic - they are totally clueless. In their native habitat, they may be highly educated and accomplished businessmen, educators, professionals, etc, but once they are on Greek soil, a mystifying transformation takes place. The eyes glaze over as they switch to holiday mode. Their plumage changes from sombre neutral officewear to brightly coloured shorts, tanks, and in some cases, straps of fabrics. Footwear for the men are sandals with socks.
While some start off by slapping on SPF 60, after a couple of days many are down to SPF 2 or resorting to Baby Oil so as to show off their "suntan" while the locals wince at the sight of their raw, red shoulders, and rapidly peeling nose."