For the first time, this year I’m feeling a bit….strange. A bit more ambivalent and unsure, a bit less excited about entering a new year. Part of this has to do with that number – 28 feels a lot more solidly ‘adult’ than even 27 or 26. The other part of this is life in Greece.. It’s becoming harder and harder to be excited about the future (This seems like it may be an increasingly global trend, but that’s a topic for another time).
In an effort to refocus on the positives, I challenged myself to gather 27 of the best moments from the past year.
It’s been a while, but I’m continuing the series recounting a roadtrip in the Greek Peleponnese, around Easter. This was my first time exploring this part of the country, and after the trip I’m totally convinced it’s one of the best places to visit in Greece. To catch up, the roadtrip started at Ancient Olympia, with the archaeological site in all its spring glory and the fantastic Olympia Archaeological Museum. The next stop was Voidokilia, Messinia, an incredible lagoon, great for nature (and bird watching!). Nearby, the city of Pylos (formerly known as Navarino!) beckoned with castles and fantastic views. The western Greek coast was occupied, at various stages, by both the Venetians and the Ottoman Turks – so the next stop on the road trip was the Castle of Methoni, followed by Koroni Castle.
The castle of Koroni covered a massive area, and was too gorgeous for me to restrain my picture-taking impulses.. After exploring the ruined church and neighbouring cemetery, and then taking in the view from the walls, we entered the monastery of the Panagia of Koroni. Inside the low walls of this monastery we found only a handful of nuns, and almost as many churches. This church pictured above, dedicated to St Sophia, is so far below the current ground level you can imagine how old it must be. There has been a monastery of the site since the twelfth century.
Visiting this place in the spring was magical – the nuns keep an incredible garden – but it was also right after Easter so the church was decorated with red and white, proclaiming that Christ has Risen.A vantage point on the interior wall of the monastery gave a better sense of the scale of the castle, as well as how strategic that location must have been. We explored the gardens, and little churches, and soaked in the view, leaving just as the sun was setting. Next stop – the Byzantine ruins of Mystras!
The Data That Turned the World Upside Down, Motherboard A serious must-read ; analysis of big data, collected from Facebook, etc., used in both the ‘Leave’ campaign in the UK and Trump’s campaign.
Advice to my Younger Self, Cup of Jo In keeping with my New Year ‘non-resolutions’ to be a little more relaxed and focused in the present, this advice is reassuring. I especially loved Michelle Obama’s comments.
How to Get Out of the Cycle of Outrage in a Trump World, Thrive Global I’ll listen to almost anything Arianna Huffington has to say, but this piece is timely. Keeping up with every new development and feeling the accompanying feelings is just… overwhelming. Here’s how to break the cycle.
Macron the Maverick, Project Syndicate
Unplugging from the news is easier said that done – this commentary, about a candidate in the French presidential election, brings some interesting insight into the mix. ‘A Macron victory could launch a counter-trend to the populism that is sweeping the globe, by giving hope to all who are sympathetic to the left or right, but anxious about populism and hyper-nationalism.’
Saw this 2012 film about the campaigns leading up to the 1988 referendum on whether or not Pinochet should remain in power. It raises some especially timely questions about advertising and voter targeting.
Obama’s EPA Chief On The U.S. And Climate Change, On Point with Tom Ashbrook I thought this was an especially insightful interview with Gina McCarthy, who speaks eloquently on the non-partisan importance of the EPA and what might be coming next.
The Detective of Northern Oddities, Outside Online
Loved this quirky portrait of an Alaska scientist, just as much about her as a person as the disturbing environmental trends her work reveals.
Something a little heart-warming – maybe we do have more in common than we think? Good job, Denmark.
I didn’t do the ‘love’ them on purpose, but it seems like a good one for this week.
Listening
John Lewis – the Art & Discipline of Nonviolence, On Being with Krista Tippett
These words seem more important than ever. ‘So you try to appeal to the goodness of every human being and you don’t give up. You never give up on anyone.’
Busted, America’s Poverty Myths, Radiolab/On the Media
This series methodically tackles (and dismantles) America’s poverty myths. Worth listening to
Fortress America, Hidden Brain
Nuanced discussion of what we can (and can’t) learn from history, examining the case of the SS St Louis, the ship full of Holocaust refugees turned back from the United States in 1939.
What a month. I can’t say I’m sorry to see it go, though it flew by a little fast for me. Some highlights from the first month of what will be, I’m sure, an ‘interesting’ year: I celebrated New Years in Greece for the first time this year, eating plenty of vasilopita (though without finding the lucky coin..), did a lot of wandering around a rainy and chilly city, and enjoyed some unseasonably warm days too. Time, though not enough, with friends and family, and an adventure to a botanic garden near Athens that I will devote a full post to later. Though things sometimes feel like they are spinning a little out of control, overall there’s a lot going well in my little microcosm – lots of be grateful for, but ready for February!
The Year of Conquering Negative Thinking, NYTimes
I actually read this article a few weeks ago thanks to our shiny new NYTimes digital subscription (hooray independent journalism!), enjoyed it, nodded along emphatically, and then promptly forgot it. I just rediscovered it today, and am glad I did. Maybe nothing groundbreaking, but a good reminder that there’s no need to spend so much time overthinking.
12 Books to Read in Your 20s, NYTimes
Why not add to the ever-growing ‘to-read’ pile? This list includes some I’ve heard of and some totally new ones. The only ones I can already cross off are Persepolis (though it deserves a second reading), Beloved and half of Catch-22. Where to start..? (Apparently 1984 is also ‘a 2017 must-read‘).
A Greek tragedy: how much can one nation take?, FT
“Everything is getting worse. Next year will be more so. Old people will die. Young people will not stay. We need help.” Heard throughout Greece, with no sign of letting up.
Beyond Lying: Donald Trump’s Authoritarian Reality, NYTimes
An alarming but very resonant piece that urges us to get past the ‘truth/lie dichotomy and watch out for the authoritarian fondness for attempting to redefine reality. Pairs well with this piece by Masha Gessen, a Russia expert who knows a thing or two about authoritarianism: Autocracy: Rules for Survival.
A Vermont Town In The Eye Of The Refugee Resettlement Storm, npr
I had no idea that little Rutland, Vermont had become involved in the controversy over refugee settlement. The city’s mayor (with Greek grandparents) wanted the city to become a host for Syrians, seeing opportunities for growth. Maybe the Greek villages should watch carefully and see if they can learn something about reviving dying communities?
Watching
This is sweet and uplifting – Obama narrates the origins of the ‘Fired up! Ready to go!’ chant.
This is heartbreaking – the Oscar-nominated documentary short by Daphne Matziaraki, depicting just one day of the refugee crisis & the island of Lesvos. A must-see in the truest sense.
As long it’s still January, we can still talk about goals for the coming year, right? I’m deliberately not saying ‘resolutions’, though I’m not actually sure why. Even when I was younger I don’t remember ever really getting on board that particular wagon – maybe I just think it’s unfair that January should have a monopoly on self-improvement. No day like today, right? It just happens to be January… 🙂
This year, though, one thing is new – putting my goals down on ‘paper’ and out in the open. Perhaps it’s obvious that my list will include writing and blogging more..! Here goes:
Say No
Perhaps a somewhat negative starting point, but an important one for me. A friend recently told I should refer to my plethora of jobs/volunteering as my ‘portfolio’ of work. I like it and intend to adopt it, but it’s still a nice way of describe one of my chronic problems. It’s not that I intend to overcommit, but I get excited about things and tend to agree to contribute to interesting new projects without calculating how much time I actually have. I think it’s also a reaction to uncertainty – if I just reach out in all directions, maybe I’ll actually grab something good.
On the other hand, I’m finally internalising what all the internet gurus say (or at least, Steve Jobs – he seems trustworthy, right?) – that focusing on too many things is not the way to achieve quality work.
This goes along with the next item, which is to be more deliberate with how I spend my time.
Relax – One Day at a Time
I’m sure it comes as no surprise to those who know me that I am somewhat ‘high strung’ (not a descriptor I would have chosen, but when it comes from Mom, it’s probably accurate). A huge combination of factors means that I am generally anxious and worry about everything, without good reason. To be fair, there are a lot of anxiety-inducing things going on these days, but there are also a lot of wonderful things in my life.
This year, I want to take things a little more slowly – focus on the day-to-day, all the things that are good, and channel my energy deliberately into making the not-so-good better. One of my favourite pieces of advice that I dole out liberally but seem incapable of taking myself:
‘Eat your elephant in small chunks.’
Learn to Feel at Home
There is certainly a theme to these goals so far – this one clearly derives from trying to be more relaxed and content with where I am right now. I think being semi-nomadic for the last nearly ten (!!!) years has created something of a paradox – addiction to being able to travel and see ‘my people’ across the world, paired with a deep longing for a stable base and a safe space that I can come back to.
This seems fairly reasonable to some extent, except that I’m not very good at, as above, being content with the present moment. Honestly, there is a lot that I would change if I had the magical capability – BUT my well-practiced ability to second guess and doubt also limits how much I appreciate what I have. And that helps no one.
Read/Write
Some of last year’s picks
Surprise surprise. This year I want to read more. Last year I read 21 books, and this year I hope to reach at least 30. (I think in 2015 I had set a goal of 50, thinking, eh I read all the time, of course I’ll reach 50! No.. Of course, I choose beasts like The Count of Monte Cristo and The Goldfinch, which doesn’t help.) I also want to write out my thoughts and share them here – accountability! You can also follow me on Goodreads (let’s be friends!) to see how I’m getting on – so far I’ve read two!
Along with reading, this year I really want to write more, hence this post… I’ve worked out an editorial schedule for my blog, and will be aiming to post at least once a week, if not more. At this point, I’m thinking of sharing a combination of ‘travel log’ style posts, with photos and recaps from various adventures, ‘around Athens’ with snapshots of daily life, a round up of interesting things I’ve been reading/I’ve written elsewhere, and perhaps even a recipe or two(!). Stay tuned – and please let me know if there’s anything in particular you’d like to see in this space!
Practice Languages
Living in Greece has, unsurprisingly, been very good for my Greek. That being said, I’m not as deliberate as I would like to be in noting unknown words, practicing, asking questions, etc. One habit I’ve gone back and forth with is reading a daily Greek e-newsletter that I love, AthiNEA, and making a point of recording any words I don’t know, and then practicing them.
Also, Greek has, understandably, replaced all the other languages I (once) had floating around in my head, and I want to snatch them back before they escape for good! So – French, Arabic and Turkish are (somehow) coming back!
Wear my Glasses
Note to self – everything is better when you can see clearly!
Run 3rd Half Marathon
Also self-explanatory. The Athens Half-Marathon is 19 March this year – the same race I did last year where I had a great run. Hopefully a new training plan plus ongoing yoga will allow for a similar experience! If it goes well, the ‘Poseidon’ Half Marathon is the following month. That was my first half marathon and although I finished, it was not pretty. I’d love to run it again in better shape this year.
Cook
Note – I did not make this food. I did eat most of it though 🙂
Well, I cook often enough at home, but it’s also become increasingly clear to me that a) I find it super relaxing and soothing and b) I love to feed people. (Neither of these are new developments). So, I’m going to try and share at least one ‘food blogger’ type post a month, just to give myself a bar to reach. I learned through writing for theTravelPorter that actually, all it takes is a deadline. After years of studying, I was convinced I was stuck in a state of writers’ block, and though I was feeling creative, I just wasn’t getting anything out there. But then.. I became a content producing machine. Apparently it’s possible!
Those are my rambles for now – I’ve read a lot of ‘blogging advice’ that suggests choosing one ‘genre’ to focus on. At the same time, bloggers are often urged to stay loyal to their own ‘authentic voice.’ Since it’s unlikely I’ll turn into a ‘real blogger’ any time soon, this space is going to continue to represent the diverse and colourful mess that is my life. I hope you’ll follow along!
Well, at least, I felt this coming. Throughout the final months of this election cycle, I’ve had a bad feeling about things. I am devastated by the results, but not completely stupefied or shocked.
This reaction is slightly unexpected because I am, deep down, an optimist. Really. I believe that things will work out for the best – that good intentions eventually bear fruit, that good will prevails, that love triumphs over hate. I was hopeful until the end, but still, I hedged my bets and tried to lower expectations.
I don’t know where this inherent reticence and caution comes from. My everyday existence is a battle between heart and head – I am instinctively exuberant, enthusiastic, emotional, empathetic. I like to think these are positive qualities, though I have learned that they also set me up for disappointment. I set expectations high, and (optimistically and/or foolishly) feel let down when reality strikes. Despite knowing this rationally, I still seem unable to fully control the impulse, so have developed a logical check, or maybe just a skeptical inner voice, that constantly tells me that, in general, things are too good to be true, and the bubble has to burst at some point.
Last night was the third time I’ve found myself awake in the middle of the night watching as things fall apart.
The first time was the Greek referendum in July 2015, where I stayed up until 4am refreshing Twitter and livestreaming Parliament until they eventually decided to put EU membership to a popular vote.
The second instance was Brexit – friends assured me there was no need to stay up all night to find out how the country voted, since the polls assured all of us that ‘Remain’ would win the day. Some internal uneasiness woke me up at around 5am, when again I refreshed BBC in disbelief.
This morning was the third time I’ve had that feeling – glued to the news as it feels like the rest of the world is asleep/oblivious (because at 6am this morning in Athens, of course they were), with a sinking feeling in my stomach that the unimaginable is actually happening.
I voted in two out of three of these contests – both times for the losing side. (The Greek referendum was basically ignored, but the feeling of unreality and uncertainty is familiar.) It does raise the question of whether there is something wrong with democracy or if I’m just out of touch. I think it’s neither and both, at the same time. Obviously claiming that democracy doesn’t work because I disagree with the opinion of the majority is no argument at all, but when the majority is swayed by emotional appeals and entrapped and entranced by empty rhetoric something else is amiss.
Thought I personally agree with this passionate editorial in today’s New Yorker, the assertion that ‘It is impossible to react to this moment with anything less than revulsion and profound anxiety’ seems like a step too far. It seems unlikely that the people who chose to vote Trump into office are feeling anything akin to revulsion right now.
Globalisation’s side effects cannot be ignored – and the growing inequality in the developed world is a clear problem that needs to be addressed – but we know this and others have said it much better than I can.
What I can say is that it feels like the earth has moved under my feet.
Brexit didn’t hit me right away, but as Friday, 24 June progressed, and I found myself out of Athens near the sea (which always helps clear my head), I realized why my stomach was in knots. Somehow I had finally understood that everything I had been raised to expect, aim for, and frankly take for granted was actually not a given. The great gift of growing up in America – in a prosperous family living the ‘American dream’ – was that I was unconditionally raised to believe that if I studied, worked hard, and tried to be a decent person, everything would work out well.
The two halves of my family exemplify the two complimentary (in my mind) pieces of the American dream. My mother’s family came to the English colonies (pre-America, in other words), to find religious freedom after persecution in Europe. Hard work, frugality and stability are engrained in that DNA (with the unfortunate result that I have to finish whatever food is on my plate, regardless of hunger cues).
My dad represents the other side of the best America has to offer – he came to the US to study, on a scholarship, from a Greece that was then under military dictatorship. Hard work, more hard work and of course some luck transformed that American dream into a reality.
Growing up with this background, I benefited both from incredible opportunities and a classic ‘American dream’ mind-set: the idea that if you set your mind to it and work hard, things will be fine.
The naiveté of this is apparent enough, and over the years I have learned enough about privilege and systematic inequality to know how lucky I am. The fact that I even felt I could hope for an eventual return on my hard work is an opportunity afforded to far too few, including within the United States.
Of course, it’s given me the luxury to choose to live outside the United States – and it’s also made me wonder whether I am so out of touch or even have the right to comment. I got into my very first political Facebook spat on Monday, when a friend of an old family friend criticised me out for posting a pro-Hillary article:
The words hurt, though I told myself that this was just one guy with a fringe opinion, and I wrote it off. Friends from all over the world came to my defense, calling him out for hypocrisy and narrow-mindedness. Rather than get too deeply upset about the whole thing, I felt affirmed and impressed by my remarkable friends, and indeed encouraged that no matter what might happen in the election, those people were on the ground spreading acceptance, diversity and love.
The question of my right to comment is not, in my opinion, such an open one – we’re all entitled to an opinion – but being abroad gives me the luxury of avoiding the day-to-day consequences of Trump-style rhetoric, and in general being white means I don’t actually have to fear for my safety like so many of those Trump has identified as ‘Other.’ At the same time, being abroad thrust me into the position of being an awkward representative of the United States, which I have always been uncomfortable with.
Nearly every time I meet someone new here in Athens – the inevitable question comes up: ‘Why are you here?’ People assume that because I have two passports, including one in that globally-coveted blue, I must be crazy not to be taking advantage of my right to live and work in the United States, especially when the alternative is crisis-stricken Greece.
When I first went to England to study, Bush was still in the White House and Americans were not especially popular abroad. I was still in my adolescent phase of infatuation with the UK, and felt self-conscious and conspicuous about my accent. In my first year at Cambridge, I often deliberately lowered my voice to avoid the immediate judgement that came as soon as people heard how I spoke.
In my second year of university, I voted in my first election and felt incredibly proud to be from Ohio. Students gathered at the Cambridge Union to watch events unfold on the big screen, and when Ohio was called for Obama and everyone cheered, I screamed along with everyone else, adding ‘That’s where I’m from!! That’s my state!!’
Being labelled as an American abroad is complicated by my own weird understanding of my identity – when I was younger I was always proud to be half-Greek, feeling like this made me ‘more special’ and interesting than the ‘average’ American. I have certainly understood the obnoxiousness of this, but I haven’t fully resolved the problem. I don’t feel like I identify as 100% American (just like I’m definitely not 100% Greek), and this crisis of diaspora identity is only compounded when I try to comment on either one place or the other.
In non-election years, the rest of the world forgot about Ohio, and America’s image abroad slowly began to recover, thanks to our endlessly charismatic and classy new President. I still didn’t broadcast my origins with pride, but America’s rebranding coincided nicely with my growing up, and (beginning to) come to terms with my own relationship with the US.
At a party just this weekend, multiple people commented on how ‘sweet’ my American pronunciation is – and I smiled and took the compliment, rather than squirming and feeling awkward. Just on Monday in the queue at the supermarket, a fellow shopper asked me about my accent, and then said ‘America is great though right? What state are you from? Oh, Ohio, I don’t know much about it. But America is really great.’
Talking to my best friend in the states this morning, I realised that living in Greece has already prepared me, to some extent, for the feeling of having the rug pulled out from underneath me. As she told me she now doesn’t feel like her future is secure, I realised I’m well-acquainted with what that feels like. At the same time, I realised that having the option of going back to the US – if worst comes to worst – has helped me deal with the utter unpredictability of trying to make a life in Greece today. Brexit, and now this result, have made it clear that there is no real ‘safe haven’ to retreat to anymore – the idea of moving (immigration restrictions aside) anywhere in order to find that safe future I thought I could expect is fading very quickly indeed, as it becomes more and more clear that this is the world we’re living in, and it’s not going anywhere soon.
At the end of the day, I’m not sure if I’m more angry, scared or disappointed. Angry that the next four years could have incredibly negative and irreversible repercussions, reaching far beyond the borders of the United States and far beyond just the presidential term.
Disappointed that the best of America just wasn’t good enough to overcome narrow-mindedness, intolerance and distrust, and indeed disappointed that we’ve allowed the situation get so bad that so many felt this was their best option.
I’m scared because I don’t know what’s coming. I want to grow up, have a family, explore the world and make it a better place for everyone. I’m scared because the future I thought could be mine if I wanted it badly enough, might not actually exist.
Where to now? I have no idea. I’m trying to gather myself, and my loved ones, and put my faith in the incredible people I know who work, and will continue to work, ceaselessly to make this world a better place for everyone.
After the referendum result was announced, I shared this:
While last night at around 4.30am ( 9.30 EST), that feeling in my gut was back with a vengeance, and I started to despair, I shared this:
Both seem appropriate now.
Moving forward, I hope with all my heart that Dr King was right:
‘I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.’
My blog has been noticeably silent for the last several weeks – I do apologise, but I have a sort of good excuse. More travels! Lots more updates to come, from Greece, as well as this trip to India, a weekend in Munich, travels in Turkey, etc. Thank you for your patience!
Making our way to the edge of the cemetery, that we explored in my previous post about Koroni Castle, we found a path that led to the castle walls, where we finally realised the massive scale of this place. Not to mention magical views..! It was almost deserted, so we could take our time soaking it all in. There isn’t much left of the massive fortification that dominated this area, or the life that used to dwell within, but there is still a little monastery with a few nuns left.. coming in the next post!
Watching my oldest friend get married in New York
My tiny (but growing!) garden of succulents and herbs
Athens Half Marathon
First Thanksgiving in the US in ten years
Treasure hunts, literal and metaphorical
Athens Eating – discoveries are never ending!
Adventures in the kitchen, facilitated by various new kitchen gadgets
Diving into family archives
Finding our real ‘spot’ – a local taverna where they know our order and throw in lots of extra lemons because we’re ‘such good kids’
Becoming a local – making friends with the butcher, becoming first-name friends with the proprietors of the neighbourhood ‘whole foods’/organic shop
(Re)visiting ancient Delphi
A visit from my best friend from university, and explorations on the island of Aegina
Wedding tourism on the island of Kea/Tzia
This view (morning or night) is a daily dose of perspective (spot the sea on the far left!)
A Poseidon Adventure 
