Student Order Form - Opa! Of Greece: Fill & Download for Free

I did not visit Greece; my husband and I taught at an International School in Thessaloniki, Greece from 1976 - 1978. We lived in a suburb, the Village of Kalamaria. We experienced many culture shocks. We did NOT understand:that the Greeks would ask what we considered very personal and intrusive questions. This was the norm: How much money do you make? Do you like your mother-in-law?the true meaning of the word (phonetically) “ah-vree-oh.” Maybe next week or whenever they get around to it, but certainly not literally “tomorrow” as in the very next day we need our laundry back!the meaning of “then-bee-rah-zee.” Similar to que sera sera; whatever will be will be; or what I used to call it, “Oh well, What the hell!” (shrug or throw hands up in the air)that everyone took a nap in the afternoon - put on pajamas and went to bed. Could never understand the “siesta” schedule and what shop was open when. Truly learned the concept of flexibility - “Let’s go see if the tailor is open! If not we can try the brake repair guy!” After all if everyone closes at the same day and same time, how will the butcher ever get to the baker’s shop and vice versa? Very complicated schedules were published in newspapers, but not too much help if one cannot read Greek! Hmm…is this really a problem when your wife is at home 24/7?that a foreign, somewhat blonde woman- standing on a corner in Kalamaria waiting for friends to pick her up to go downtown to the symphony (me) - would be a target of a flasher in his car. After, I was told if I could have pointed him out in time to my Greek neighbors they would have chased him down for the insult to me and them. A positive note: I fled to the bakery on the corner and learned the baker spoke English - not common - and he became a good friend. He, too, was very upset at my experience and was positive this man did not live in Kalamaria and could not be Greek!not to wave at anyone with fingers up and palm towards the person to whom you are waving - no, I am not cursing you with the most vile curse imaginable, “May you lose your five senses, you creep.” Waving was with the hand at about waist level, wiggling fingers, your palm facing you. Ok to curse yourself? Extremely rude and aggressive to curse someone else with your ”American” wave!jerking one’s head up slightly initiated at chin with with a click of the tounge = “No,” and the word does not need to be spoken. Even more subtle was the almost imperceptible raising of head and eyebrows - or exquisitely just one arching eyebrow - to mean “no.”tilting the head slightly left or right and slightly dipping the same shoulder down means “yes.” Nothing spoken. Huh??that in Western cultures the previous two bullets mean the exact opposite. Shaking head up and down = yes. Shaking head left and right = no. Confused initially, but caught on quickly.that no one knows how to form a line, or queue, as the British say. “Standing in line” at the bank, or at a drinking fountain, or at a theater to get tickets was literally a free for all. I let my husband fight through the crowd to get “Star Wars” tickets. 6’ 3” tall, strong, and athletic, he towered over most Greeks. Me? At 5’3” I wanted to see the movie not covered in scratches, bumps and bruises.that I finally would learn when I got close to the cashier’s window at the bank to plant my hands firmly on either side of the counter to keep any one from pushing their way in, especially little old ladies in black, they were the worst!that little old ladies in black existed! When a married woman (or an unmarried woman) lost husbands/fathers, they were supposed to only dress in black clothing for the rest of their lives … unless they re-married or married… no matter their age! I guess I would be ornery, too, given that societal norm. Our school secretary, Dee Dee, bemoaned this custom when she lost her father as a single woman of about 30. She complied for a year or so then began dressing normally again.women were not supposed to drive cars, only men. They only had cars for about 5 years or so when we arrived in Greece. This is something Dee Dee ignored, too, as did I and most of my fellow female teachers.that (two for one, here) … little old ladies in black as observed by my friend, literally, could not cross the road on a Sunday where traffic was so heavy with people returning from the beaches of the northern Greek “fingers” - Halkidiki. (The “Three Fingers” of the Halkidiki Peninsula.No one would stop for them. Little old ladies in black: cross themselves, throw their black aprons over their heads, shout “then-bee-rah-zee” and make a dash to the other side of the road. Chaos ensues; cars go every which way, but they all make it safely to the other side of the road … no accidents! What IS this word “then-bee-rah-zee”?that there is no speed limit on the highway and the proper place to drive is on the shoulder of the road if you insist on driving at less than the speed of sound. This leaves the lane open to those who are vying for new land speed records!that a cement truck covered from one end to the other with cement always, ALWAYS has the right-of- way!people of same sex holding hands when walking in public was not unusual especially two or more men. It meant nothing, but was definitely strange to see. It was a big adjustment not to be rude and stare.Nude beaches not for Greeks, but for vacationing Germans, Swedes, Danes and Norwegians. Talk about distraction at the beach! Had to find a Greek beach especially for my husband! Dad, a professional photographer, hired a model, went to the beach and took lots of pictures … including nude pictures. My mother was furious!little boys do not run home to go to the bathroom when playing in the neighborhood church yard. The same is true of their fathers when traveling on the highway. No one hides … they stand openly by the car (or little guys in near the fence of the church yard across from my home) and a stream similar to what exits a water hose is seen. Little guys try to imitate as best they can. The same was true at my bus stop where mom told her little girl to squat down and relieve herself. Hmmm … would mom be next? And little girl was not wearing underwear, at least none was removed or adjusted! Mom??why the Greek Orthodox Church across the street was so small and the yard was so large. Together they occupied the entire block in front of our home, bordered on all sides by streets. We did not know the priest entered the sanctuary and the people stood outside. But the yard was still enormous. Now it’s Easter and everyone in Kalamaria comes to church after dark holding a lit candle. People in the yard overflow into the streets filled with candlelight which we see from our slightly elevated balcony. Breathtaking, beautiful, magical!public bathrooms were, more often than not, Turkish toilets; just two pedals and a hole and no toilet paper. We called these “bombadiers.” One had to BYOTP on trips or suffer the consequences … “shake, wriggle, and dance; the last drop is in your pants” applied at camp as a kid, but I never knew it applied in the real world, too!even if you got used to the water where you lived, you traveled with bottled water (our first experience with bottled water as we Americans were not so advanced in the 70s). Fail to do this and you would quickly find yourself in need of “the facilities” and you would not care if it were a “Bombadier” or not!you did not tell your neighbors that you were going to visit Turkey which was a day trip from Thessaloniki. Greece was occupied by Turkey for at least 400 years which did not end until after WWII, about 1948. They were not about to let bygones be bygones after a mere 30 years; maybe not even now!that most Greeks were terrified of dogs and we happened to bring two beagles with us. Packs of starving dogs ran wild during and after WWII and would attack people. On the other hand, we shared our house with Nick and his family. Nick may have been the only hunter in Northern Greece, certainly the only one to keep several hunting dogs on the roof. He was ecstatic to see our dogs especially when he found out they were male and female. We had two litters of pups in Greece. Nick only got one from the 1st litter. When we could not find owners for the 2nd litter, he took the whole litter! I suspect that Ben’s and Jamie’s descendants filled Northern Greece with beagles and are today’s entire beagle population.Greek time: if invited for dinner at 8 pm they probably meant 9 or 10 pm. If you arrive at 8, your host was probably still in the bathtub. Awkward! Even if you brought retsina with you.that retsina was definitely an acquired taste … like pine needles or turpentine, I could not drink it.Nick thought it strange that we bathed daily. He heard water running every morning for months and finally asked “why?” We were told once a week or even once a month was plenty. This, mind you, was a country of severe water shortages and the water might be turned off certain days of the week especially during summer. Cisterns on top of homes collected rain water to use when the water was off. Hey, but we learned to economize! I ran the water and took a very hot bath, then hubby got in as I exited, and took his cooler bath. This was the “weekday, we have to go to work” routine. The weekend routine varied somewhat, but I leave that to your imagination! There are ways to adjust to inconveniences.there were no lawns and if you had one people would think you were crazy to water it. No lawns, just dust.the street cleaner wore a suit and tie to work and was proud of his job, refreshing!those who did not perform manual labor grew the nail on the little finger very long as a status symboleveryone seemed to have a job and take pride in it no matter what it was. If I had to buy a stamp at the post office it was not legal until three other people scribbled on itat customs they opened every pre-natal pig order ordered for dissection in our high school science class rendering them useless. They also opened every individually wrapped Tampax in a box of 40 … all 12 boxes shipped to self to last a year rendering them … oh, deal with it!in a very hot land where people may only bathe once a month, “nice” women did not shave their underarms or legs. And since most people used public transportation, one learned how to “breathe, but not breathe” on a crowded bus.that the locals could tell we were foreign from the way we dressed, the moment they saw us, before we ever tried to speak. Had to buy local clothes.that they did not dress as informally as we did; never wear shorts in downtown Thessaloniki, ladies; only a skirt or dress! Not unless you really like to be stared at, maybe even harassed somewhat.supermarkets were non-existent. One did all shopping within a few blocks of home … one shopped often and never bought more than one could carry.that one did not buy olive oil in a bottle at the supermarket. See previous bullet. One had a container - one liter or more - and purchased oil from a hole in the wall store that had a huge vat built into the wall with a spigot showing. Only other things in this shop were a small counter, cash register, and person collecting payment. Best olive oil ever!everything in the market was sold in kilos. I did not want a kilo of most things, only a pound. They sold pumpkins by the slice and could not understand at the end of October why, when I never bought a kilo of anything, I now wanted the whole pumpkin; nor did I understand why one pumpkin had to cost so much!that there was an American Farm School of Northern Greece where we could buy popcorn and peanut butter and cranberries and other items from home. I hope it is still there. It was staffed by Americans who taught agricultural practices to the locals.that Greek yogurt was (IS) as good or better than sour cream in any recipe that calls for it.that we never saw cows, so where did the milk, cheese and yogurt come from? One giant cow for Northern Greece hidden, where? Oh, all those herds of goats we had to wait for as they crossed the road? Oh yes, and cheeses not feta were imported.that we would buy feta cheese in the same manner as olive oil. Soak in water before using to remove excess salt. It will still be salty … an acquired taste … but delicious!at the taverna groups dining out together all dipped into the “community” village salad placed on the table. No individual salads. Everyone had their own fork, though! You eat with people you know!that it was not normal for the taverna to serve dinner between 5 and 7 pm! But they were friendly and accommodating and got used to our strange ways. We, on the other hand, never waited for a table or waited long for our food. Wonderful especially on school nights. We were teachers and all teachers need to be at school early before their students arrive. Many enjoyable meals we had in full view of the Aegean Sea.In the taverna, only men were waiters and most were insulted when you left a tip. I will never forget the waiter who came running after us to return the 50 drachma note we “forgot.”that if we could not read the menu, the Greeks - very practical - would take you back to the kitchen so you could point to what you wanted to eat. No problem.that Germans and Scandinavians “migrated” to Greece in vast numbers for summer vacation. How confused the Greeks were when I told them - in German: we are not German, even though we’re blond - especially my husband - and our name is German, but we are not German. Keine Deutsche, Amerikane!Greece often has earthquakes - it is on a major fault line. There were several quakes on the 1st night we arrived in Thessaloniki. We did not recognize the feeling nor left the building until people outside yelled at us to get out. When my mom and dad were visited from the US, my mom preferred to die in our house before leaving the bathroom during a 5.0+ quake … same quake that bounced our car up and down at the gas station where my dad and husband were filling our VW caravan station wagon a few blocks away. To this day when heavy equipment or trucks shake the building I am in, I still startle and have the urge to leave the building. There are virtually no earthquakes in Michigan where we live.that we would arrive with earthquakes and leave after 2 years with earthquakes. We were traveling with my parents in Eastern Europe when the 8.0+ earthquake hit Thessaloniki. With an epicenter a few kilometers closer, it would have leveled the city. We arrived home from our trip: our 3-story building was standing, our dogs survived (Nick was dog sitting), bed covered in plaster, and no one was sleeping inside at night. We left doors open during the day while packing to go home, but had to camp out for the last two weeks in the church yard; yes, the same church yard where the little boys … you know! The last night we tried sleeping inside on couches with doors open … but not 5 minutes passed and another aftershock hit. Out we go to our little tent again.that we would understand the concept of the ugly American who visited for two weeks and did nothing but complain the whole time that it was not like home. We lived there, in local neighborhoods, not even on an American base. Why leave home if you expect a foreign country to be exactly like home? I love my county, but could understand why Europeans did not like the ugly Americans. I did not like them either.Let me say that for all the cultural differences that exist between societies, it was important to learn firsthand that all people are more alike then not alike. Governments are more problematic than people. I am eternally grateful I had the chance to live and work in several countries that were foreign to me. It was an adventure every American should experience.None of these things need translation: a smile, a hug, the laughter of children playing, the twinkle in an eye, or a helping hand from someone one does not know and with whom one cannot communicate. In Greece, I remember complete strangers - who we asked for help on the street, staying with us for hours despite language barriers - until they helped us find our destination. No GPS then, just many kind, caring people given an opportunity to exercise some of the best of human qualities … and they never failed us.Now ask me if I would ever go back to live there?In a heartbeat!Opa! But that’s another story!P.S. something I almost forgot. In the West when presented with something extremely difficult to understand we say, “It’s Greek to me!” Why would a Greek say this when they understand their language (which many find very difficult to learn) perfectly!? My neighbors - Nick and his wife Leda - say, “It’s Chinese to me!”Added to original answer: Thank you if you read this very long answer, but we were so young (“You’re just babies,” Dee Dee exclaimed.) We were 24 and graduated 6 months before from Lenoir Rhyne College in Hickory, NC. We were so impressionable. We never lived in any country except the U.S and I only visited Canada briefly - day trips across the Detroit River - in those days one did not even need a passport, nor did I have one!Thank you for staying with me on a very long and beloved walk down memory lane.