Tomorrow I am going to the island of Mykonos with Tracy, Trish, and Meg. We are all super excited, its about all we could talk about all week while laying out on the beaches by my house. We think its beautiful in Athens this time of year, the islands are going to be awesome.
The island we chose is world renowned for partying, gay partying in particular. Its like Ibiza in Spain, anything goes, everything happens, and no one cares. What happens on Mykonos stays on Mykonos apparently. We are going to have fun at the clubs and all but the beaches is what we are really after. Supposedly the island is one of the most beautiful, with Cycladic architecture and soft sandy beaches.
I have been waiting to go to the really nice Greek isles for two years so I'm just a little anxious to get on the boat. It is the Orthodox Easter this weekend so everything is booked and my coach just told us our practice schedule on Sunday. So Monday morning we rushed to the travel agency to get tickets and book a hotel. We got some of the last tickets available and Tracy found a hostel on the internet. We are kind of thinking that the accomodations are going to be one step up from camping on the beach but who can complain about that?
My coach of course thinks I am a party animal (which is a common misconception). He is worried I am going to be drunk for three straight days, go without sleep and even asked me, "off the record", if I smoke. First of all he doesn't understand how much I like to sleep or how much i hate cigarette smoke. I'm like, okay folks, I am well aware that we have our season on the line next weekend. I am certainly not the one you need to worry about. Yes I will drink but mostly I just want to get out of Athens and plant my butt on a beach for three days. I haven't had three days off since i have played over here so i am definitely leaving town.
Another warning we got is that there will be gays there. Ohhhhhh. I'm like.... people! gay men are some of my favorite people to party with. As my friend Sam says, "they're guys but they don't want to do you, they want to do your hair." God bless them. I'm like the barbie doll they could never openly have.
So i will have tons of stories and pictures next week. If you're interested one of the island websites is
http://www.mykonos-greece.biz/
until then. ciao.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
The big 2-4
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…..” sang eleven preschool children somewhere in Kansas. Their little voices traveling across the Atlantic to wish someone they don’t even know a happy birthday. But you sure couldn’t tell from their enthusiasm, 9 out of the 11 of them screaming instead of singing. I could picture them so excited to sing, little bodies dressed in harry potter t-shirts and pokemon tennis shoes moving to the song without restraint. “Momma” read Trish’s caller i.d. and sure enough her mom, a daycare provider, soon got on to wish me a happy birthday too. It was one of the highlights to a wonderful evening.
Monday night we didn’t have practice so despite my birthday falling on Tuesday we decided to have the party on Monday. At eight o’clock we all gathered at my friend George’s taverna, the one that is located a block from my old apartment. I went and visited my old landlord beforehand. Some things never change as he was just waking up, his pants half on, but he insisted on bringing me in, taking pictures of me and telling me, “24?! You must find a good man and start making babies.” Okay, Manolis, I said and went off to my party.
Most of my teammates came, all my American friends, Greek friends, and even Mimi’s friends came to celebrate with me. All in all there were about 20 people there and a great mix of different people. Even Manolis and his friend came later and had a drink. He began to tell me about his new “special friend” who happens to be 43 years old, married with two kids. And he had me write down the perfume I was wearing so he could buy it for his cousin. He is such a character. I’m not really sure when he is drunk or not.
We ate wonderful Greek food. George always insists on taking the best care of us. Salads and appetizers were passed down the table, wine and cigarettes were abundant and since Greek people can’t show up without gifts, a table was set aside for presents. We had pictures and video cameras, every possible combination of people was recorded in photographs and everyone moved around, mixed and mingled. We had 6’10” Travis talking to little Demitria, her video camera documenting him taking a picture of her filming.
The rest of the week my apartment was redolent of roses from the two bouquets brought by friends, boxes and shopping bags were strewn all over from gifts, and new books sent from home sat anxiously on my table. I can’t remember the last time I got so many presents for my birthday. All in all it was a wonderful day. A birthday I will always remember….
Monday night we didn’t have practice so despite my birthday falling on Tuesday we decided to have the party on Monday. At eight o’clock we all gathered at my friend George’s taverna, the one that is located a block from my old apartment. I went and visited my old landlord beforehand. Some things never change as he was just waking up, his pants half on, but he insisted on bringing me in, taking pictures of me and telling me, “24?! You must find a good man and start making babies.” Okay, Manolis, I said and went off to my party.
Most of my teammates came, all my American friends, Greek friends, and even Mimi’s friends came to celebrate with me. All in all there were about 20 people there and a great mix of different people. Even Manolis and his friend came later and had a drink. He began to tell me about his new “special friend” who happens to be 43 years old, married with two kids. And he had me write down the perfume I was wearing so he could buy it for his cousin. He is such a character. I’m not really sure when he is drunk or not.
We ate wonderful Greek food. George always insists on taking the best care of us. Salads and appetizers were passed down the table, wine and cigarettes were abundant and since Greek people can’t show up without gifts, a table was set aside for presents. We had pictures and video cameras, every possible combination of people was recorded in photographs and everyone moved around, mixed and mingled. We had 6’10” Travis talking to little Demitria, her video camera documenting him taking a picture of her filming.
The rest of the week my apartment was redolent of roses from the two bouquets brought by friends, boxes and shopping bags were strewn all over from gifts, and new books sent from home sat anxiously on my table. I can’t remember the last time I got so many presents for my birthday. All in all it was a wonderful day. A birthday I will always remember….
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Things are heating up...
This week has been especially good. Sunday morning started off with a win by about 20 points on our home court to keep our chances of staying in the first division alive. With two more games to go we will mostly likely need to win out to remain in Alpha 1. It’s an okay place to be though, a lot of teams are fighting down to the wire but we hold our chances in our hands and don’t have to hope that another team loses. I played well and felt more like myself. Its been a bit of a struggle with a whole new system, the triangle offense, and a new coach that doesn’t speak English but Sunday I listened more to myself instead of trying to figure things out through a translator. It felt good.
Sunday afternoon I went with my teammate, Mimi, and her friends to a seaside taverna for a great meal. It was a makeshift building with mostly people sitting in a clear tent like area festively decorated with fake garlands, what looked like flowered contact paper for the ceiling and various colored lightbulbs hanging from a string. Wonderfully tacky. We ate fresh calamari and beer, among other Greek specialties, and stayed there for hours. Her friends are so sweet, Zoe, Rula, and my favorite Greek name, Aphrodite.
Sunday evening I wasn’t up for anything too exciting and not much was going on so I headed down to the movie theatre near my house. I hadn’t gone to the movies in awhile and hadn’t gone by myself for a long while so it was a welcomed event. I saw “The Interpreter” which was very entertaining. Its all with Greek subtitles so in the beginning when they started speaking Koo or whatever I began to worry that I had picked the wrong movie to see overseas. Luckily only occasionally did the actors not speak English. Sean Penn might officially be my favorite actor.
Monday morning I could be found on the beach running on the sand, dodging waves, and working on agility by avoiding rocks. It was nice to be outside, it was beautifully sunny and exercising with such fresh air bringing you back to nature in a wonderful way. Afterwards I laid out for a little while and then headed down to Glyfada, the Beverly hills of Athens, for some shopping and girl time with a good Greek friend.
Demitria met me outside the Pizza Hut and we proceeded to wind our way through the trendy shops buying little and talking a lot. The sun was out and everyone who was anyone was in Glyfada having coffee at the chic coffee shops. So Demitria and I sat down on one of the comfy couches, to sip fancy drinks, talk, and people watch in the sun. We saw many people we knew, basketball, soccer, water polo players and spent the whole afternoon just relaxing. That and bitching about our newly ex boyfriends. A good place to go when you are freshly single though as Glyfada attracts nice looking people.
The weather change has increased my social life exponentially. All I really want to do is go for coffee by the sea or lay out in the sun. People are out and about enjoying the heat and there is a certain energy in the air that is lacking during the colder months. It hasn’t gotten really hot yet but there are glimpses of the heat like yesterday when I was out for coffee with my teammate. I was wearing all black and actually got burnt on my shoulders while we sipped sweet cold coffee and talked all afternoon. It is so wonderful to live near the water.
Next I’ll write about my birthday but all for now….
Sunday afternoon I went with my teammate, Mimi, and her friends to a seaside taverna for a great meal. It was a makeshift building with mostly people sitting in a clear tent like area festively decorated with fake garlands, what looked like flowered contact paper for the ceiling and various colored lightbulbs hanging from a string. Wonderfully tacky. We ate fresh calamari and beer, among other Greek specialties, and stayed there for hours. Her friends are so sweet, Zoe, Rula, and my favorite Greek name, Aphrodite.
Sunday evening I wasn’t up for anything too exciting and not much was going on so I headed down to the movie theatre near my house. I hadn’t gone to the movies in awhile and hadn’t gone by myself for a long while so it was a welcomed event. I saw “The Interpreter” which was very entertaining. Its all with Greek subtitles so in the beginning when they started speaking Koo or whatever I began to worry that I had picked the wrong movie to see overseas. Luckily only occasionally did the actors not speak English. Sean Penn might officially be my favorite actor.
Monday morning I could be found on the beach running on the sand, dodging waves, and working on agility by avoiding rocks. It was nice to be outside, it was beautifully sunny and exercising with such fresh air bringing you back to nature in a wonderful way. Afterwards I laid out for a little while and then headed down to Glyfada, the Beverly hills of Athens, for some shopping and girl time with a good Greek friend.
Demitria met me outside the Pizza Hut and we proceeded to wind our way through the trendy shops buying little and talking a lot. The sun was out and everyone who was anyone was in Glyfada having coffee at the chic coffee shops. So Demitria and I sat down on one of the comfy couches, to sip fancy drinks, talk, and people watch in the sun. We saw many people we knew, basketball, soccer, water polo players and spent the whole afternoon just relaxing. That and bitching about our newly ex boyfriends. A good place to go when you are freshly single though as Glyfada attracts nice looking people.
The weather change has increased my social life exponentially. All I really want to do is go for coffee by the sea or lay out in the sun. People are out and about enjoying the heat and there is a certain energy in the air that is lacking during the colder months. It hasn’t gotten really hot yet but there are glimpses of the heat like yesterday when I was out for coffee with my teammate. I was wearing all black and actually got burnt on my shoulders while we sipped sweet cold coffee and talked all afternoon. It is so wonderful to live near the water.
Next I’ll write about my birthday but all for now….
Thursday, April 21, 2005
New places, New faces...
Living in different parts of the world opens up such new opportunities. Opportunities to learn and grow, to have new experiences, and mostly to meet new and different people. Even moving to Iowa changed my perspective. I met people who grew up on farms, that had never lived in a city, that had a more conservative attitude on things than the tree hugging liberals of Seattle. It made me realize that not everyone is exposed to diversity or thinks that vegetarian is the way to go. Our environment really does shape our perspective on things and exposure to other and different surroundings challenges the way we look at things.
Studying sociology in college allowed me to look at this phenomenon intellectually but living overseas has allowed me to look at it personally. I don’t necessarily want to be a sociologist and even two years after college its difficult to remember the details of specific theories or the contributions of famous sociologists but it is did give me an appreciation and a fascination with cultures, with people, and how societies with norms, languages, and traditions shape humans into individuals with many things in common.
As different as American and Greek culture are there are still so many commonalities between them. I think generally people want to be happy, they want to laugh, to be loved/liked, and they need to connect with other people. At first it seems you need a common language to do this but after living amongst many people I can’t communicate with I have learned that you don’t always need to speak the same language.
I found myself laughing at my dad when he was visiting because before a game as I was shooting I looked up to see him deep in conversation with our general secretary’s mother who speaks one word of English: “good”. That is so typical of my dad, to make friends with someone he doesn’t know and can’t openly communicate with. But after living over here I understand the important of unconventional communications. Its amazing how close you can get to someone with sign language and a smile. When I think about it, some of my favorite people here, the people that put a smile on my face, do not speak any English.
The general secretaries mom-
I’m not even really sure what her name is but she cooks for me and comes to all our games, to cheer for us and yell at the refs. She’s about 65 or so and I see her riding her scooter around the square occasionally. After games I give her kisses and ask how she is doing and I can see in her eyes that she is proud of me. Sometimes we go out to eat and between my limited Greek, some help from her son, and an occasional “good” from her, we bond.
Hussein the c.d. guy-
Hussein is from Syria and sells black market c.d.s for a living. Everyday I see him with a huge bag of c.d.s walking through the square, in every coffee shop stopping when people show an interest. People pretty much only buy black market c.d.s and dvds almost always sold by Africans or other immigrants. Hussein is so incredibly sweet always stopping to talk to me at Starbucks despite the fact that we don’t speak the same language. We exchange formalities and smile when we see each other which is fairly often. He asks me how I am in Greek and tells me simple things but mostly he says “good, very good” and gives me a huge thumbs up as he walks away to make a living. We’ve exchanged phone numbers and he wants me to come have a drink at his house which is hilarious because we can’t really communicate.(Which by the way is another thing I have noticed while living overseas: The fundamental difference between women and men is that men don’t seem to care if we don’t speak the same language while the thought of trying to date someone I can’t talk to hardly seems worth it.) Anyway, back to Hussein. I love that we can feel like we know each other despite the language barrier but it also makes me sad that I can’t ask him what is life is like. I mean what does a person leave behind to come to a foreign country, mostly likely alone, to sell black market cds? And how remarkable is it that he does it all with a smile on his face. Everyday he walks around selling cds for five euros and I wonder what that is like. I want to know what his story is.
Toula the cleaning lady-
Toula is this short Greek woman that mops the floors of our gym in the mornings. I see her there cleaning up and moving between the rooms of our gym, whistling and talking to people. Remarkably I speak more Greek than she speaks English which, with the amount of English movies around here you’d almost have to try to do. But I speak to her in Greek and she answers back, with a huge smile and a great big wave. She blows me kisses and sings to me in Greek, sappy love songs, as she sweeps the floor. She is cute as a button and always makes me laugh. One time during practice as our coach was talking and reprimanding someone she screamed down, “Maria, Maria” to one of my teammates completely unconcerned with my coach. Erin and I were laughing into our jerseys. I love this woman.
Vasa my teammates mom-
My teammate Eleni was the first one on my team I became close with. This is mostly due to the fact that she would pick me up in her Peugeot convertible and her mom would cook for me. They wanted to make me feel welcome and that they did. Her mom is so cute. She’s little so I tower over her and she colors her hair with red and wears tight pink clothes and jeans with rhinestones. Not so cute but I love it! She too doesn’t speak much English but she always hugs me and gives me kisses. And she can cook really well.
There are countless other people that I can’t speak to and still adore. Most young people speak some English as they all take it in school and watch a lot of American movies so its easy to rely on English most of the time. But there are still a lot of people who only speak Greek and while it is difficult to communicate with them, it doesn’t stop me from making them my friends…
Studying sociology in college allowed me to look at this phenomenon intellectually but living overseas has allowed me to look at it personally. I don’t necessarily want to be a sociologist and even two years after college its difficult to remember the details of specific theories or the contributions of famous sociologists but it is did give me an appreciation and a fascination with cultures, with people, and how societies with norms, languages, and traditions shape humans into individuals with many things in common.
As different as American and Greek culture are there are still so many commonalities between them. I think generally people want to be happy, they want to laugh, to be loved/liked, and they need to connect with other people. At first it seems you need a common language to do this but after living amongst many people I can’t communicate with I have learned that you don’t always need to speak the same language.
I found myself laughing at my dad when he was visiting because before a game as I was shooting I looked up to see him deep in conversation with our general secretary’s mother who speaks one word of English: “good”. That is so typical of my dad, to make friends with someone he doesn’t know and can’t openly communicate with. But after living over here I understand the important of unconventional communications. Its amazing how close you can get to someone with sign language and a smile. When I think about it, some of my favorite people here, the people that put a smile on my face, do not speak any English.
The general secretaries mom-
I’m not even really sure what her name is but she cooks for me and comes to all our games, to cheer for us and yell at the refs. She’s about 65 or so and I see her riding her scooter around the square occasionally. After games I give her kisses and ask how she is doing and I can see in her eyes that she is proud of me. Sometimes we go out to eat and between my limited Greek, some help from her son, and an occasional “good” from her, we bond.
Hussein the c.d. guy-
Hussein is from Syria and sells black market c.d.s for a living. Everyday I see him with a huge bag of c.d.s walking through the square, in every coffee shop stopping when people show an interest. People pretty much only buy black market c.d.s and dvds almost always sold by Africans or other immigrants. Hussein is so incredibly sweet always stopping to talk to me at Starbucks despite the fact that we don’t speak the same language. We exchange formalities and smile when we see each other which is fairly often. He asks me how I am in Greek and tells me simple things but mostly he says “good, very good” and gives me a huge thumbs up as he walks away to make a living. We’ve exchanged phone numbers and he wants me to come have a drink at his house which is hilarious because we can’t really communicate.(Which by the way is another thing I have noticed while living overseas: The fundamental difference between women and men is that men don’t seem to care if we don’t speak the same language while the thought of trying to date someone I can’t talk to hardly seems worth it.) Anyway, back to Hussein. I love that we can feel like we know each other despite the language barrier but it also makes me sad that I can’t ask him what is life is like. I mean what does a person leave behind to come to a foreign country, mostly likely alone, to sell black market cds? And how remarkable is it that he does it all with a smile on his face. Everyday he walks around selling cds for five euros and I wonder what that is like. I want to know what his story is.
Toula the cleaning lady-
Toula is this short Greek woman that mops the floors of our gym in the mornings. I see her there cleaning up and moving between the rooms of our gym, whistling and talking to people. Remarkably I speak more Greek than she speaks English which, with the amount of English movies around here you’d almost have to try to do. But I speak to her in Greek and she answers back, with a huge smile and a great big wave. She blows me kisses and sings to me in Greek, sappy love songs, as she sweeps the floor. She is cute as a button and always makes me laugh. One time during practice as our coach was talking and reprimanding someone she screamed down, “Maria, Maria” to one of my teammates completely unconcerned with my coach. Erin and I were laughing into our jerseys. I love this woman.
Vasa my teammates mom-
My teammate Eleni was the first one on my team I became close with. This is mostly due to the fact that she would pick me up in her Peugeot convertible and her mom would cook for me. They wanted to make me feel welcome and that they did. Her mom is so cute. She’s little so I tower over her and she colors her hair with red and wears tight pink clothes and jeans with rhinestones. Not so cute but I love it! She too doesn’t speak much English but she always hugs me and gives me kisses. And she can cook really well.
There are countless other people that I can’t speak to and still adore. Most young people speak some English as they all take it in school and watch a lot of American movies so its easy to rely on English most of the time. But there are still a lot of people who only speak Greek and while it is difficult to communicate with them, it doesn’t stop me from making them my friends…
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Greek Specialties
So I love that fact that there are bakeries here and meat stores and flower shops separate from the supermarkets. Don’t get me wrong, many people do all their shopping in the grocery stores but the individual stores are really cute. For instance, they don’t have a lot of grocery store floral departments so people buy their plants and flowers on the street at the open market, from gypsies driving the street with pickups overgrown with house plants, and from these beautiful shops. They are everywhere. They look like exotic greenhouses in the middle of the concrete jungle of Athens. They have palm trees, potted plants, and freshly cut flowers in every color. From the street you can see in the glass windows with plants overflowing onto the sidewalk outside. Inside you are surrounded by greenery in every shape and size and flowers that look like flowers are supposed to look, not like in the grocery store. I love going inside because it is like an arboretum.
I can't comment too much on the meat shops quality but I can comment on the shock value of these little stores. They have the regular things, pork chops, chicken breasts, ground beef. Then they have pigs feet, whole lambs with the hair still remaining on the end of their tails hanging upside down lifelessly, and whole chickens with their clawed feet still on. Ewwwwww...
But the bakeries here are awesome to say the least. People buy bread at the grocery store also but mostly they shop at the bakeries on every block. Its nice to have specialized stores because the quality is so much better. The bread is SO yummy and it is so cheap, like 60 cents for a loaf of fresh bread made that morning. They have all different kinds so I just point at something over all the short Greek women around me and they wrap it up for me. Then they have all different kinds of pretzels, crackers, cookies, and things to dip in coffee. They have them in baskets all over the bakery and they sell them by the kilo very cheap. Then they have deserts and they are exquisite. I literally walk into one of these places with my mouth open in awe (and drooling). If I have to pick something out I never know what to choose because everything looks so good. They have éclairs and chocolate mousse, rice puddings and fruit tarts, huge chocolate cakes decorated with strawberries and whipped cream, caramel and shaved white chocolate, or crystallized oranges and cherries. The things are almost too pretty to eat… almost. They’ll have ten, twenty different kinds of “sweets” which are small, individual treats usually made with chocolate. People buy “sweets” for their name day or birthday and bring them to practice, work, whatever. People buy “sweets” for every occasion. Last week my trainer brought “sweets” for everyone because he passed his drivers test! Any excuse for chocolate.
The name day is a big deal in Greece. Almost every Greek person is named after a Saint and every Saint has a special day. There is usually a girl name and a guy name for each one. Like Stella/ Stelios, Nikos/Niki, Stavros/Stavrula, Pangiotes/Pangiota, Demitrius/Demitria. On your name day you bring sweets and get some presents, phone calls, and lots of kisses. Every time I bring sweets to practice from America I claim it is my name day. Next week is my birthday and I am super excited to go to a bakery and pick out beautiful sweets to take to practice. I wonder what I'll pick out! It’s the simple things in life…
I can't comment too much on the meat shops quality but I can comment on the shock value of these little stores. They have the regular things, pork chops, chicken breasts, ground beef. Then they have pigs feet, whole lambs with the hair still remaining on the end of their tails hanging upside down lifelessly, and whole chickens with their clawed feet still on. Ewwwwww...
But the bakeries here are awesome to say the least. People buy bread at the grocery store also but mostly they shop at the bakeries on every block. Its nice to have specialized stores because the quality is so much better. The bread is SO yummy and it is so cheap, like 60 cents for a loaf of fresh bread made that morning. They have all different kinds so I just point at something over all the short Greek women around me and they wrap it up for me. Then they have all different kinds of pretzels, crackers, cookies, and things to dip in coffee. They have them in baskets all over the bakery and they sell them by the kilo very cheap. Then they have deserts and they are exquisite. I literally walk into one of these places with my mouth open in awe (and drooling). If I have to pick something out I never know what to choose because everything looks so good. They have éclairs and chocolate mousse, rice puddings and fruit tarts, huge chocolate cakes decorated with strawberries and whipped cream, caramel and shaved white chocolate, or crystallized oranges and cherries. The things are almost too pretty to eat… almost. They’ll have ten, twenty different kinds of “sweets” which are small, individual treats usually made with chocolate. People buy “sweets” for their name day or birthday and bring them to practice, work, whatever. People buy “sweets” for every occasion. Last week my trainer brought “sweets” for everyone because he passed his drivers test! Any excuse for chocolate.
The name day is a big deal in Greece. Almost every Greek person is named after a Saint and every Saint has a special day. There is usually a girl name and a guy name for each one. Like Stella/ Stelios, Nikos/Niki, Stavros/Stavrula, Pangiotes/Pangiota, Demitrius/Demitria. On your name day you bring sweets and get some presents, phone calls, and lots of kisses. Every time I bring sweets to practice from America I claim it is my name day. Next week is my birthday and I am super excited to go to a bakery and pick out beautiful sweets to take to practice. I wonder what I'll pick out! It’s the simple things in life…
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Super Mom
I really don’t know how my mom did it. Three kids, a large house, and a full time job. I have myself, a little apartment, and I’d hardly call it a “job”. And I feel like I am always doing housework. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not stressed or in a time crunch but that’s only because I have as much free time as any one person needs. Like today I went swimming in the morning and then went to the grocery store and outdoor market. I bought milk and eggs, fruits and vegetables and loaded them all into my cart, steering through the pot holed streets of my neighborhood and up to my apartment. Then I proceeded to clean my whole house, mopped the floors, washed the dishes, put out my fresh cut flowers, and washed all the produce. After that I ate and took a nap before practice. And that was my day (okay so somewhere in there I got my nails done). A great day for me, its sunny outside, I love going to the market and cleaning my apartment feels so good. But I do find myself cleaning a lot just to keep my apartment looking nice and I don’t have to clean up after anyone but myself. I don’t know how my mom kept our house livable because aside from “family clean up” every Sunday, which, by the way, always turned into a giant family fight, I don’t think we helped her out with house work all that much. And we made a lot of mess. Plus I don’t think anyone ever sympathized with her much when she freaked out about the house being dirty. As a female and a feminist I should have been more understanding but I was the youngest and just wanted to play with my brothers and not hear about how the dishwasher needed to be emptied. I just didn’t understand why she hated having the house dirty. Now of course, I can totally understand how coming home to a messy house after working ten hours could drive someone nuts. But then, no, I had more important things on my mind…. Like how to avoid getting pinned down on the oriental carpet in the living room.
Food preparation alone is a job. I mean for three growing kids who didn’t have small appetites, just keeping the house stocked with food must have been difficult. We bought in bulk a lot; trips to Costco where our cart was bigger than the Vietnamese store owner’s next to us in line. These trips took a long time, used a lot of money and the food didn’t really even last us that long. So my mom would then have to go to the supermarket just to keep food on the table. I find myself going to the grocery store like every other day. Granted I don’t have a car so I only buy about 20 euros worth of food at a time but still, I am only feeding myself and I’m happy with a turkey sandwich for every meal but breakfast. I can’t imagine cooking for a family every night and keeping enough food for them to have lunch, breakfast, and snacks. We ate a lot.
Plus just planning for meals takes work. You have to make sure you have all the ingredients, make sure people will eat it, and then go about cooking it. We weren’t especially picky eaters I don’t think but, inevitably there were times when whatever she cooked wasn’t what someone was in the mood for. So she’d whip up some eggs or rice pudding. Simple meals but still time consuming when she probably just wanted to go to bed. All that on top of a 40 hour week?
Then there is laundry. To think that I used to have my mom do all my laundry! Like it was her fault if my jersey wasn’t clean or if my favorite pants hadn’t been washed. She only had four other people’s laundry to do and all the linens and towels. Oh I think we all started doing our own laundry off and on when we were about 12 or 13 years old. But to this day she still does the laundry if it is just sitting there. I can barely keep up with my own laundry here. Granted my washing machine takes about an hour and a half, I sweat through enough clothes for about three people, and I have to hang dry everything. But, I don’t work! And I am not even going to start on the ironing because I don’t iron anything but my mom does and its just one more thing on her never ending ‘to do’ list.
I guess my point is that living on my own has taught me just how much work everyday things are. In college I studied in my sociology and women’s studies classes how career women are often times working double duty. Most women who work to help support a family find themselves working a second shift of housework and taking care of the family. I know my mom felt the strain of what amounts to two full time jobs and I am realizing more now how much work that really is. My mom and I always marvel how a whole day can be spent just doing things around the house. You don’t even have to have a project to do, it can be simple things like cleaning, doing laundry, organizing. I don’t mind doing them because I have the time but they take more time than I ever imagined. In college, we had training table so we didn’t have to worry much about food and our apartment was small and during the season our practice clothes were laundered for us. So I didn’t have a lot of chores to take care of. But now, its all up to me and I finally realize how someone could be a house wife and keep perfectly busy. And I definitely understand why my cousin Jamie told me not long ago, “Whatever you do just make sure you make enough money to hire a housecleaner.” Wise words. Maintaining a home, not too mention a family, takes a lot of work and now that I am doing a fraction of what my mom did I am realizing even more how unbelievable she is.
Food preparation alone is a job. I mean for three growing kids who didn’t have small appetites, just keeping the house stocked with food must have been difficult. We bought in bulk a lot; trips to Costco where our cart was bigger than the Vietnamese store owner’s next to us in line. These trips took a long time, used a lot of money and the food didn’t really even last us that long. So my mom would then have to go to the supermarket just to keep food on the table. I find myself going to the grocery store like every other day. Granted I don’t have a car so I only buy about 20 euros worth of food at a time but still, I am only feeding myself and I’m happy with a turkey sandwich for every meal but breakfast. I can’t imagine cooking for a family every night and keeping enough food for them to have lunch, breakfast, and snacks. We ate a lot.
Plus just planning for meals takes work. You have to make sure you have all the ingredients, make sure people will eat it, and then go about cooking it. We weren’t especially picky eaters I don’t think but, inevitably there were times when whatever she cooked wasn’t what someone was in the mood for. So she’d whip up some eggs or rice pudding. Simple meals but still time consuming when she probably just wanted to go to bed. All that on top of a 40 hour week?
Then there is laundry. To think that I used to have my mom do all my laundry! Like it was her fault if my jersey wasn’t clean or if my favorite pants hadn’t been washed. She only had four other people’s laundry to do and all the linens and towels. Oh I think we all started doing our own laundry off and on when we were about 12 or 13 years old. But to this day she still does the laundry if it is just sitting there. I can barely keep up with my own laundry here. Granted my washing machine takes about an hour and a half, I sweat through enough clothes for about three people, and I have to hang dry everything. But, I don’t work! And I am not even going to start on the ironing because I don’t iron anything but my mom does and its just one more thing on her never ending ‘to do’ list.
I guess my point is that living on my own has taught me just how much work everyday things are. In college I studied in my sociology and women’s studies classes how career women are often times working double duty. Most women who work to help support a family find themselves working a second shift of housework and taking care of the family. I know my mom felt the strain of what amounts to two full time jobs and I am realizing more now how much work that really is. My mom and I always marvel how a whole day can be spent just doing things around the house. You don’t even have to have a project to do, it can be simple things like cleaning, doing laundry, organizing. I don’t mind doing them because I have the time but they take more time than I ever imagined. In college, we had training table so we didn’t have to worry much about food and our apartment was small and during the season our practice clothes were laundered for us. So I didn’t have a lot of chores to take care of. But now, its all up to me and I finally realize how someone could be a house wife and keep perfectly busy. And I definitely understand why my cousin Jamie told me not long ago, “Whatever you do just make sure you make enough money to hire a housecleaner.” Wise words. Maintaining a home, not too mention a family, takes a lot of work and now that I am doing a fraction of what my mom did I am realizing even more how unbelievable she is.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Full Court Press 4
Sorry i have been out of touch. Here's the latest from Full Court Press....
Playing overseas is a wonderful experience. Its opened my eyes, expanded my thoughts on everything from politics to what I want to do with my life, and changed my perspective of the world. My world, that was once limited to life in one country, with one language and one way of doing things, has opened not only to Greece but to a way of life that embraces differences, challenges, and new ways of looking at things. Its made me live a life full of the ideals that I once could only intellectualize. I knew the world was bigger than America, I knew that cultures were different, I knew the dangers of narrow thinking, of ethnocentricity. But I also knew that I can’t possibly know until I live it. Because reading in a book, discussing it during class, and seeing the world through a television doesn’t begin to teach you the lessons that total immersion offers.
But as I’ve said before, it isn’t easy. It isn’t a vacation where you settled into comfortable lodging every night, falling asleep with dreams of the next day’s adventure. Where you take pictures sipping wine with the locals and drinking coffee on a cobblestone street, the sun shining down on your face, not a care in the world. Not that I haven’t done these things but it isn’t happy go lucky all the time, nothing but great memories. Its life, the normal ups and downs but without your normal world around you. Support systems are distant, in another country, another time zone, and new support systems are distanced by different thoughts, language, values. So its all up to you.
Slowly though you adjust. The sad thing is that most people don’t make it that far. Sometimes they have a bad situation and have to leave (an abusive coach, a team that doesn’t pay etc.) but many times they just don’t know how to make it. And I hate seeing that because I know how tough it is in the beginning but I also know how wonderful it is if you can make it through that. There are still tough days, like I said, its not vacation. But overall, playing ball overseas is incredible. Its this experience that even as I am doing it, I can feel myself filling up with substance. Every day brings life anew, every morning the prospect of a new experience that will shape my outlook on the world. Where in the beginning the diurnal anxiety that comes with culture shock made me long for a more prosaic life, I now live with an appreciation for making the uncomfortable livable. And how I wish I could reveal those lessons so that others would see the rewards that await.
But no one can describe the ineffable so I’ll simply describe how I came to love it here. There isn’t a magic formula and there isn’t a certain type of person that necessarily loves living in foreign country. There are introverts and extroverts, intellectuals and people that don’t know anything but being an athlete. People either make it or they don’t and it isn’t necessarily because of their personality. That being said, I have noticed that the people that are the happiest overseas do certain things.
Get out of the house
A place like Athens can be intimidating at first. Taxis can be difficult to get especially if they are on strike, the drivers are rude sometimes, many don’t speak English, and they very well may yell at you if you get lost and leave you on the side of the road at night in a strange neighborhood. Not very reassuring if you don’t know your way around and don’t speak the language. Going out can kind of be scary, not because of crime, but because not being able to get home is not a fun feeling. Have you ever felt that way? I mean literally, not having a parent or friend a phone call away. Trust me, it doesn’t make you anxious to leave the house. However, to stay sane you have to zip up your jacket, bear the elements, and embark on journeys that may be uncomfortable at first but at the very least will give you a good story and something to look back on.
Make Native Friends
Greek people can be rude if you don’t know them. They bump into you on the metro, they cut you in line at the grocery store, they won’t stop for you on the street, they are liable to yell at you for what seems like nothing, and customer service is not their specialty. It can make things uncomfortable but these things, that Americans would consider rude, are just cultural differences and you get used to them. That being said, if you know a Greek person they will make keeping you happy their life goal. They will take you into their home, feed you until you can’t move, bring you gifts, cook you brownies, and take you and all your family visiting to a taverna and not let you even leave the tip. I’m telling you, they will give you the shirt off their back just to make you feel at home, to make you love their country as they do.
So making Greek friends is important. They will show you the city, bring you to their house for holidays, and show you real cultural experiences that you can’t sign up for at a travel agency. They teach you the language and explain cultural values. They’ll take you to places that aren’t listed in your tour book and give you hours of conversation, comparing countries, languages, and cultures. Its endlessly interesting. Greek people have made my experience special, without them Athens would just be another busy city.
Make American Friends
I love Greek people and I love Greek culture. The food, the music, the coffee, I enjoy it all. But I am still American and I always need to feel connected to my home. American friends give that balance between experiencing the new but holding onto the old. Its important to have that time around people that know where you are coming from, understand your nuances, your slang, so that you can completely let down your guard from time to time. It is more wearing than you realize to be away from your culture and being around Americans melts that stress away.
Do American Things
I remember being at a pay phone last year calling home late at night. I was miserable, wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into. I had just finished another yelling session that we called a practice, cars were honking on the road, people were talking on the street in a language I couldn’t understand, and I had never felt more alone in my life. I was trying to adjust, reminding myself how lucky I was to be playing pro ball when I started bawling to my older brother on the phone. He lived in Japan for two years so no one understood better the effects of cultural shock. He comforted me and told me not to try and immerse myself totally and completely. “Go see an American movie,” he said. So that night I plugged my laptop in and watched “Pretty Woman” and marveled at how America, and Hollywood Blvd., had never looked so wonderful.
See the sites
Everywhere in the world has something cool to see. Its nice to go to American movies and good to eat at Applebee’s if you are really missing America but its important to experience the place you are living and not block it out with satellite t.v. and restaurant décor that matches exactly the restaurant décor in anytown, USA. These things are important when you are homesick or just adjusting but slowly the place you’re living has to become your home, if only temporarily. Here in Greece the options are endless, there is the Parthenon, Roman ruins, Ancient Olympia, museums and so many temples they start to look as rare as farm houses in the Midwest. The history is amazing and I have learned and seen so much while I have lived here. Living over here to play basketball presents an opportunity to see things some people only read about in books, to stand next to things older than our minds can even conceptualize, and to miss out on that opportunity would be a shame. In addition, the history of this area, the history of the Greek culture reflects back on the Greek people of today. This has helped me immensely to understand their thinking better which, in turn, helped me to appreciate them and accept them with less criticism.
Find a hobby
Its extremely difficult to know how to occupy your time when you have never had any free time to occupy. This isn’t college ball with classes, weights, treatment, practice, film, and homework everyday. With some exception we only practice for two hours every evening and rarely travel. That gives you all day to do whatever you want. I love it now but boredom which leads to loneliness which leaves to homesickness, was my worst enemy at first. It hangs on you all day as the hours drag on. But if you can find things you like to do, time is on your side and the days go by filled with things you enjoy and you’ll thank your lucky stars you a have a job that allows you the freedom to do these things.
Get used to “me” time
Living overseas by yourself definitely teaches independence. In college, I barely went to Target by myself and I not once did I ever have more than an hour in an empty house. But now I live by myself, I go out to coffee by myself, to movies, dinner, shopping. It isn’t to say that I don’t have a social life its just a little different when you live in a foreign country without friends close by. I go out with my Greek friends some or I meet up with my Americans for a movie or dinner but typically I have all day to entertain myself. What was once a curse is now a blessing. I love “me” time and going out for coffee in the sunshine with a good book doesn’t feel lonely at all, its just relaxing.
All in all, living overseas is a huge adjustment. Mostly it just takes time to get used to a different culture and different lifestyle. Being taken out of your comfort zone really is difficult but can be an awesome experience as well. As I said before, there are some situations players find themselves in that are miserable and nothing can be done but pack up and leave. But assuming that circumstances are somewhere close to normal, and I use that term loosely, playing ball overseas can be a rewarding experience if only given the chance.
Playing overseas is a wonderful experience. Its opened my eyes, expanded my thoughts on everything from politics to what I want to do with my life, and changed my perspective of the world. My world, that was once limited to life in one country, with one language and one way of doing things, has opened not only to Greece but to a way of life that embraces differences, challenges, and new ways of looking at things. Its made me live a life full of the ideals that I once could only intellectualize. I knew the world was bigger than America, I knew that cultures were different, I knew the dangers of narrow thinking, of ethnocentricity. But I also knew that I can’t possibly know until I live it. Because reading in a book, discussing it during class, and seeing the world through a television doesn’t begin to teach you the lessons that total immersion offers.
But as I’ve said before, it isn’t easy. It isn’t a vacation where you settled into comfortable lodging every night, falling asleep with dreams of the next day’s adventure. Where you take pictures sipping wine with the locals and drinking coffee on a cobblestone street, the sun shining down on your face, not a care in the world. Not that I haven’t done these things but it isn’t happy go lucky all the time, nothing but great memories. Its life, the normal ups and downs but without your normal world around you. Support systems are distant, in another country, another time zone, and new support systems are distanced by different thoughts, language, values. So its all up to you.
Slowly though you adjust. The sad thing is that most people don’t make it that far. Sometimes they have a bad situation and have to leave (an abusive coach, a team that doesn’t pay etc.) but many times they just don’t know how to make it. And I hate seeing that because I know how tough it is in the beginning but I also know how wonderful it is if you can make it through that. There are still tough days, like I said, its not vacation. But overall, playing ball overseas is incredible. Its this experience that even as I am doing it, I can feel myself filling up with substance. Every day brings life anew, every morning the prospect of a new experience that will shape my outlook on the world. Where in the beginning the diurnal anxiety that comes with culture shock made me long for a more prosaic life, I now live with an appreciation for making the uncomfortable livable. And how I wish I could reveal those lessons so that others would see the rewards that await.
But no one can describe the ineffable so I’ll simply describe how I came to love it here. There isn’t a magic formula and there isn’t a certain type of person that necessarily loves living in foreign country. There are introverts and extroverts, intellectuals and people that don’t know anything but being an athlete. People either make it or they don’t and it isn’t necessarily because of their personality. That being said, I have noticed that the people that are the happiest overseas do certain things.
Get out of the house
A place like Athens can be intimidating at first. Taxis can be difficult to get especially if they are on strike, the drivers are rude sometimes, many don’t speak English, and they very well may yell at you if you get lost and leave you on the side of the road at night in a strange neighborhood. Not very reassuring if you don’t know your way around and don’t speak the language. Going out can kind of be scary, not because of crime, but because not being able to get home is not a fun feeling. Have you ever felt that way? I mean literally, not having a parent or friend a phone call away. Trust me, it doesn’t make you anxious to leave the house. However, to stay sane you have to zip up your jacket, bear the elements, and embark on journeys that may be uncomfortable at first but at the very least will give you a good story and something to look back on.
Make Native Friends
Greek people can be rude if you don’t know them. They bump into you on the metro, they cut you in line at the grocery store, they won’t stop for you on the street, they are liable to yell at you for what seems like nothing, and customer service is not their specialty. It can make things uncomfortable but these things, that Americans would consider rude, are just cultural differences and you get used to them. That being said, if you know a Greek person they will make keeping you happy their life goal. They will take you into their home, feed you until you can’t move, bring you gifts, cook you brownies, and take you and all your family visiting to a taverna and not let you even leave the tip. I’m telling you, they will give you the shirt off their back just to make you feel at home, to make you love their country as they do.
So making Greek friends is important. They will show you the city, bring you to their house for holidays, and show you real cultural experiences that you can’t sign up for at a travel agency. They teach you the language and explain cultural values. They’ll take you to places that aren’t listed in your tour book and give you hours of conversation, comparing countries, languages, and cultures. Its endlessly interesting. Greek people have made my experience special, without them Athens would just be another busy city.
Make American Friends
I love Greek people and I love Greek culture. The food, the music, the coffee, I enjoy it all. But I am still American and I always need to feel connected to my home. American friends give that balance between experiencing the new but holding onto the old. Its important to have that time around people that know where you are coming from, understand your nuances, your slang, so that you can completely let down your guard from time to time. It is more wearing than you realize to be away from your culture and being around Americans melts that stress away.
Do American Things
I remember being at a pay phone last year calling home late at night. I was miserable, wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into. I had just finished another yelling session that we called a practice, cars were honking on the road, people were talking on the street in a language I couldn’t understand, and I had never felt more alone in my life. I was trying to adjust, reminding myself how lucky I was to be playing pro ball when I started bawling to my older brother on the phone. He lived in Japan for two years so no one understood better the effects of cultural shock. He comforted me and told me not to try and immerse myself totally and completely. “Go see an American movie,” he said. So that night I plugged my laptop in and watched “Pretty Woman” and marveled at how America, and Hollywood Blvd., had never looked so wonderful.
See the sites
Everywhere in the world has something cool to see. Its nice to go to American movies and good to eat at Applebee’s if you are really missing America but its important to experience the place you are living and not block it out with satellite t.v. and restaurant décor that matches exactly the restaurant décor in anytown, USA. These things are important when you are homesick or just adjusting but slowly the place you’re living has to become your home, if only temporarily. Here in Greece the options are endless, there is the Parthenon, Roman ruins, Ancient Olympia, museums and so many temples they start to look as rare as farm houses in the Midwest. The history is amazing and I have learned and seen so much while I have lived here. Living over here to play basketball presents an opportunity to see things some people only read about in books, to stand next to things older than our minds can even conceptualize, and to miss out on that opportunity would be a shame. In addition, the history of this area, the history of the Greek culture reflects back on the Greek people of today. This has helped me immensely to understand their thinking better which, in turn, helped me to appreciate them and accept them with less criticism.
Find a hobby
Its extremely difficult to know how to occupy your time when you have never had any free time to occupy. This isn’t college ball with classes, weights, treatment, practice, film, and homework everyday. With some exception we only practice for two hours every evening and rarely travel. That gives you all day to do whatever you want. I love it now but boredom which leads to loneliness which leaves to homesickness, was my worst enemy at first. It hangs on you all day as the hours drag on. But if you can find things you like to do, time is on your side and the days go by filled with things you enjoy and you’ll thank your lucky stars you a have a job that allows you the freedom to do these things.
Get used to “me” time
Living overseas by yourself definitely teaches independence. In college, I barely went to Target by myself and I not once did I ever have more than an hour in an empty house. But now I live by myself, I go out to coffee by myself, to movies, dinner, shopping. It isn’t to say that I don’t have a social life its just a little different when you live in a foreign country without friends close by. I go out with my Greek friends some or I meet up with my Americans for a movie or dinner but typically I have all day to entertain myself. What was once a curse is now a blessing. I love “me” time and going out for coffee in the sunshine with a good book doesn’t feel lonely at all, its just relaxing.
All in all, living overseas is a huge adjustment. Mostly it just takes time to get used to a different culture and different lifestyle. Being taken out of your comfort zone really is difficult but can be an awesome experience as well. As I said before, there are some situations players find themselves in that are miserable and nothing can be done but pack up and leave. But assuming that circumstances are somewhere close to normal, and I use that term loosely, playing ball overseas can be a rewarding experience if only given the chance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)