Post from Michelle:
No one could ever accuse Greeks of being a meek and timid people. They are more like little firecrackers, ready to explode with opinions, greetings, laughter, or insults at any moment. I had to adjust to their way of communicating after coming from Southeast Asia, where showing strong emotion is equivalent to losing face.
The elderly are the most interesting to watch. The white haired women are short and stocky with large drooping bosoms, round buttocks, and their wrinkled faces clearly express it would be a mistake to get on their bad side. Their presence, whether standing on a balcony calling to neighbors below, watching grandchildren play in the park, or returning from the market carrying local produce, makes any stroll in Greece more interesting. They exude a quiet confidence, filling me with a sort of reverence as I watch them pass on the street, big hips swaying to their slow steady steps.
The old men can be seen socializing together on benches in the village square, their conversations growing loud and animated and then fading to contemplative silence, almost in a rhythmic pattern. The men also hang in kafeneia, Greek cafes serving only men. I peek in the windows of the smoke-filled rooms as I walk past and see men playing cards together, reading the paper, or participating in animated discussions.
When the Greeks are unhappy they are not shy about expressing their anger. I met a couple from Florida who had this tale to tell: Walking in Plaka, the old city of Athens, a kind, grandmotherly-type shop owner ushered the couple into her store with a smile. They had read in their guidebook it was appropriate to bargain and, after browsing, picked an item and asked for a reduced price. They must have bargained too low for the woman's demeanor changed instantly and she began yelling, hurling insults, and chasing them from the store. They ran down the street as people stared and felt like they had just been caught shoplifting instead of trying to make a business transaction.
We were on a public bus in Athens and the driver stopped too quickly, sending an elderly woman to the floor with a thud. She rose unscathed, and united with all the other women aboard, they proceeded to ream the driver with a cacophony of verbal insults. The driver just watched stone-faced through his rear view mirror with an air of unconcern, as if this was an every day occurrence.
Another time we were on a train, waiting at the station to leave when a young couple boarded and sat at the far end of the carriage. An irate old man followed û I presume the girl's father û yelling and screaming. All the passengers' necks stretched to get a better view of the red-faced man shouting and projecting spittle inches from the couple's faces. It was too much stress for the young man who escaped to the train's toilet until the tirade was over, leaving the girl to fend for herself. She sat staring out the window and puffing on her cigarette, indifferent as the bus driver had been when his passenger was flung to the bus floor due to his bad driving.
The old man was putting on an impressive show involving his whole body: feet stamping, finger wagging, arms waving, eyes bulging, and repeatedly pointing to his heart. Since all the screaming was in Greek I made up my own story about the conflict û the girl was running away with the young man to Athens and the father didn't approve. He was screaming for her to return home and she was breaking his heart with her disobedience. It was a stirring story of family loyalty and romance, but of course, for all I knew, he could have been yelling at her for cooking a lousy breakfast and giving him heartburn. When the train whistle blew signaling departure, he stopped screaming, straightened his collar, and calmly departed. The young man didn't emerge from the toilet until the train was moving and the coast was clear.
I don't think these emotional explosions are uncommon among the Greeks. We have witnessed many as we travel through the country and I am impressed by the energy that goes into an argument û shaking fingers, shrugging shoulders, waving arms, and fists pounding chests. It has the same intensity as a maestro conducting an orchestra with concentration and passion.
Where the Greeks can be passionate in their anger, I find they can be equally passionate in their kindness. A Greek couple we met on the plane from Nepal spent hours with us, giving us advice and tips for our time in Greece. Old women squeeze my arms in affection as I pass; old men holler the Greek hello, "Yasas!" A hotel owner brought freshly baked cake to our room, still steaming from the oven. After a wonderful meal, a restaurant owner brought wine and a plate of fruit to the table, on the house. These are only a few examples of the kindness shown to us while touring Greece.
With a history of strong tradition, mythic gods battling in the heavens, festive dancing, great wine, and the birthplace of democracy, it is no wonder Greece is a land of passionate people. The enthusiasm and zeal they show in expressing themselves is an art form in itself.
The elderly are the most interesting to watch. The white haired women are short and stocky with large drooping bosoms, round buttocks, and their wrinkled faces clearly express it would be a mistake to get on their bad side. Their presence, whether standing on a balcony calling to neighbors below, watching grandchildren play in the park, or returning from the market carrying local produce, makes any stroll in Greece more interesting. They exude a quiet confidence, filling me with a sort of reverence as I watch them pass on the street, big hips swaying to their slow steady steps.
The old men can be seen socializing together on benches in the village square, their conversations growing loud and animated and then fading to contemplative silence, almost in a rhythmic pattern. The men also hang in kafeneia, Greek cafes serving only men. I peek in the windows of the smoke-filled rooms as I walk past and see men playing cards together, reading the paper, or participating in animated discussions.
When the Greeks are unhappy they are not shy about expressing their anger. I met a couple from Florida who had this tale to tell: Walking in Plaka, the old city of Athens, a kind, grandmotherly-type shop owner ushered the couple into her store with a smile. They had read in their guidebook it was appropriate to bargain and, after browsing, picked an item and asked for a reduced price. They must have bargained too low for the woman's demeanor changed instantly and she began yelling, hurling insults, and chasing them from the store. They ran down the street as people stared and felt like they had just been caught shoplifting instead of trying to make a business transaction.
We were on a public bus in Athens and the driver stopped too quickly, sending an elderly woman to the floor with a thud. She rose unscathed, and united with all the other women aboard, they proceeded to ream the driver with a cacophony of verbal insults. The driver just watched stone-faced through his rear view mirror with an air of unconcern, as if this was an every day occurrence.
Another time we were on a train, waiting at the station to leave when a young couple boarded and sat at the far end of the carriage. An irate old man followed û I presume the girl's father û yelling and screaming. All the passengers' necks stretched to get a better view of the red-faced man shouting and projecting spittle inches from the couple's faces. It was too much stress for the young man who escaped to the train's toilet until the tirade was over, leaving the girl to fend for herself. She sat staring out the window and puffing on her cigarette, indifferent as the bus driver had been when his passenger was flung to the bus floor due to his bad driving.
The old man was putting on an impressive show involving his whole body: feet stamping, finger wagging, arms waving, eyes bulging, and repeatedly pointing to his heart. Since all the screaming was in Greek I made up my own story about the conflict û the girl was running away with the young man to Athens and the father didn't approve. He was screaming for her to return home and she was breaking his heart with her disobedience. It was a stirring story of family loyalty and romance, but of course, for all I knew, he could have been yelling at her for cooking a lousy breakfast and giving him heartburn. When the train whistle blew signaling departure, he stopped screaming, straightened his collar, and calmly departed. The young man didn't emerge from the toilet until the train was moving and the coast was clear.
I don't think these emotional explosions are uncommon among the Greeks. We have witnessed many as we travel through the country and I am impressed by the energy that goes into an argument û shaking fingers, shrugging shoulders, waving arms, and fists pounding chests. It has the same intensity as a maestro conducting an orchestra with concentration and passion.
Where the Greeks can be passionate in their anger, I find they can be equally passionate in their kindness. A Greek couple we met on the plane from Nepal spent hours with us, giving us advice and tips for our time in Greece. Old women squeeze my arms in affection as I pass; old men holler the Greek hello, "Yasas!" A hotel owner brought freshly baked cake to our room, still steaming from the oven. After a wonderful meal, a restaurant owner brought wine and a plate of fruit to the table, on the house. These are only a few examples of the kindness shown to us while touring Greece.
With a history of strong tradition, mythic gods battling in the heavens, festive dancing, great wine, and the birthplace of democracy, it is no wonder Greece is a land of passionate people. The enthusiasm and zeal they show in expressing themselves is an art form in itself.
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