I'm not dead!

So... yeah. The daily blog thing sort of crashed after my three day excursion to Nafplio. I have drafts written for most of the days in between then and now, but I just haven't had time or motivation to work on them. I will post them, eventually, as I get caught up, but that may not be for a while yet. In the morning, I am leaving for Meteora, a neat site in Thessaly full of awesome geological features, and a bunch of monasteries, which I am very much looking forward to. I will take lots of pictures, and write up the experience Monday night, when I get back. Then I'm in town for all of a day, before heading off to Olympia and Delphi on the next class trip. Also very exciting, but once again, I'm going to be without Internet, which means I won't blog, which means I'll have another three days of stuff to get caught up on. On top of the two weeks I've neglected thus far. So.... I'll get to that all eventually, but it could take a while.

Anyway, in the meantime, I can summarize what has happened in the past week. The way my program is divided up, there is the equivalent of a three quarter class crammed into one quarter, which means that each "quarter" lasts about 3 weeks. Thus, at the start of this week, we started the second quarter, and got a new professor. She's quite nice, and I like her, but the teaching style is much more self-directed and discussion-based. She doesn't explain sites to us, or tell us what is happening at the time period we're learning about; instead, we explore the site, do the readings, ask questions, and discover for ourselves. I will get used to it soon, but it's a big change from the way our last professor taught.

As for sites this week, we didn't do anything really groundbreaking. Tuesday we went on top of the Acropolis, finally visiting the Parthenon. Wednesday was an excursion to Boiotia and Thebes, which would have been really cool, except that it rained the entire bloody time. Thursday was a free morning, and Friday (today) was a visit to the ancient agora. All the sites were cool, but nothing so spectacular that I want to elaborate right now.

Anyway, I promise a more detailed update when I return, but for now it is midnight, and I am off to bed so I can wake up to finish packing and get on a train. So, καλή νύχτα!

Today was the first part of a three day excursion to the Argolid. We left early in the morning, in order to get to the Isthmia site by 9:30. This site was a sanctuary to Posideon in antiquity, but during the 5th century C.E., the temple was completely disassembled, including the foundations, to incorporate into a fortification wall. Very little is left, but what is there is quite interesting. We were privileged to be shown around the museum and site by Dr. Elizabeth Gebhard, one of the lead researchers. Because this site is in such poor shape, and archaeology is a destructive process, it was really interesting to have her explain the site to us, because she had information about the excavation, such as where artifacts were found in relation to structures. For instance, there were several sacrificial pits, in which ash and scorched animal bones, along with pottery, were found. However, looking at them now, fully excavated, they look like simple pits.


Another interesting feature of the site were the starting gates. Isthmia was one site of the Panhellenic games, an athletic and oratory competition that took place every four years. There are four different sites that hosted these games: Isthmia, Nemea, Delphi, and Olypmia (hence today's Olympic games). Today, all that is left of the stadium track is the starting gate, which seems to have had a mechanism to drop eight gates simultaneously, since there were no sound-makers loud enough to ensure a fair start. How exactly this worked, though, is unclear, as all that is left is the holes for posts and the rope cuts carved into the rock.

After doing a team assignment at Isthmia, we got back on the bus and traveled to Nemea. According to Greek legend, this was the site where Herakles (known more commonly today by his Roman name, Hercules) completed his first task, slaying the Nemean lion. Like Isthmia, this was the site of both a sanctuary (this time to Zeus) and a Panhellenic games. Around the sanctuary were hotels, for visitors, structures for the small staff of the sanctuary to live in, and several treasuries, for votive offerings of wealthy families or towns. It was also, however, the site of a later Christian basilica, a type of church, several centuries later. This is pretty common: if a site is considered holy at one time by one culture, more often than not that site will remain holy, even as the culture and religion change.


We didn't spend long at Nemea, before heading off to Asine. Unlike most of the sites we'd been to previously, this isn't a sanctuary to a god, or at least not primarily. Supposedly, this was the site of a tribe of non-Greeks, who were pirates on the population of the Argolid. This is based mainly on literary sources; the material culture of the area, in general, is consistent with the surrounding area. There are only a few nit-picky things, such as differences in burial practices and slight differences in the pottery, to suggest that this site was home to a different culture. There's very little physical evidence to be seen on the site, and so we didn't spend too long talking here; instead, we climbed to the top of the hill.


After Asine, we still had one last site to visit. This one wasn't an Archaic site, however; it was the Palamidi Fortress, a Turkish fortification from when Greece was part of the Ottoman Empire. It's a really neat structure, build on top of the highest hill near Nafplio. The fortress consists of 9 separate buildings, connected by fortification walls. It looks like an impervious fortress. However, if you can't go over the walls, you can go under. That's exactly what happened here, when enemy forces tunneled under the walls, filled the tunnel with explosives, and broke the defenses that way.

Finally, after exploring these four sites, we checked into the hotel at Nafplio, had a lovely dinner paid for by the program, and prepared for the tomorrow, when we'll be exploring some really cool sites around the Argolid.

During the day off (April 2nd), I went to the Benaki Museum, which Professor Hall had pointed out on the Lakivatos morning trip. It's a nice little museum, encompassing Greek history from the Classical and Roman periods, to the Byzantine period, and through to today. On the third floor, there was a temporary exhibit, titled "Expulsion and Exchange of Populations (Turkey -Greece 1922-1924)". In it were a series of photographs, from the end of the first World War through to the end of the population exchange, along with snippets of text walking visitors through the events of those two years.

The images alone were powerful, but even more so when combined with the objects I'd seen in the rest of the museum. In Turkey and the Near East, Greek Orthodox families had been powerful, and rich. However, during and after the Greco-Turkish war, these families were uprooted, broken apart, and forced from a stable, comfortable life. "Greek" men in Turkey were gathered up and sent to labor camps, from which few returned. Others, along with women and children, were sent on death marches. Refugees from Smyrna and other Turkish towns flooded Thessaloniki, Athens, and other Greece cities, even before the war ended and the population exchange was initiated. The estimate presented in the exhibit was that over 1,000,000 refugees tried to find new homes at this point. Then, at the end of the war, another 200,000 or so Greek Orthodox Christians were ejected from Turkey, while a similar number of Muslims were moved from Greek to Turkey. On both sides, the new immigrants were treated with suspicion and contempt, and were kept as outsiders.

My favorite photograph out of the set was of a young refugee girl sitting on the lap of an evzone, the Greek ceremonial guard. The girl was laughing at the camera, a little shyly, while the soldier laughed slightly along with her. In other photos, too, in the awful conditions of the refugee camps, the some of the children were still smiling, and life went on. It made me wonder if there could ever be a tragedy so great that even the kids would be unable to smile and enjoy life. If so, I hope no one ever has to experience them. Things would have to be awful indeed for even the children to lose hope entirely.

The other striking thing about the photographs was just how similar they were to images of much more recent disasters. In China, Japan, Haiti, New Orleans, Iraq, and Sumatra, in just the past decade, we've seen memorable photos of people living in the exact same sort of conditions. The faces and landscapes and disaster stories change, but the degree of human suffering, and human spirit... those are the same. The expressions of hopelessness, pain, and grief visible in pictures from this 1922-24 set are just as clear in the photos taken today. But present, too, are the expressions of defiance, of hope, and of the human will to survive. At the end of the exhibit, along with the photo of the little girl and the soldier, were several family portraits of refugees, who created a new middle class in Greece. Seeing that gives me hope that people will recover from today's disasters as well, and make the world a better place in spite of the hardship they have faced.

Over the past two weeks, I've visited a lot of archaeological sites: the Acropolis, the Temple of Olympian Zeus, the Temple of Poseidon at Isthmia, the Temple of Zeus at Nemea, the palaces at Mycenae and Tiryns, and more. Nearly everywhere there are ruins of different ancient memorials, sanctuaries, and buildings. Most of them look something like this:



There is certainly some information to be gained from building foundations like this. Certain notches in the stone indicate how the building fit together, or if there was a column or statue in a given spot. If any of the building stones are inscribed, there is a lot more information that can be gathered. And the floor plan can indicate what type of building this was. Yet, I have reservations about just how much information can be gained from these ground-level stone blocks. In most museums, there are model reconstructions of the site, showing elaborate temples with peripteral columns and pediments and all sorts of supporting buildings. Yet, there may only be a few scattered column drums, or a heap of rubble to indicate this. Sometimes, archaeologists are lucky and find a cache of sculpture and statues from a destroyed temple that was buried in a pit, but other times the sites have been pillaged, re-purposed, or eroded away by natural forces. In many cases, it does not appear to me that the archaeological evidence is sufficient to justify the reconstruction.

Another line of evidence is literary records, which helps fill some of the gap, but is still not sufficient. There are some written records of what sanctuaries looked like or were used for, such as those written Pausanias, that were done while these places were still in use. However, for others, the records were written long after the site was disused, or were second- or third-hand accounts. It is difficult to evaluate the accuracy and reliability of these records, and so they are also not enough for me to really trust the reconstructions.

A third justification for some of the models, as well as for what various monuments and temples actually are, is looking at other sites. For instance, at a site near Argos, there's a temple to Apollo, and a second structure, including a round monument, similar to that at Delphi. Thus, it's been suggested that since the round monument at Delphi is dedicated to Artemis, that the one at Argos is the same. This logic is reasonable, and parallels can certainly be drawn, but seems to me like a flimsy argument for either claiming a purpose for unknown ruins or reconstructing them to match the known parallel.

Overall, there is some merit to reconstructing sites. It gives both the historians and the general public a visual sense of the landscape of a world that existed 2000 years ago. And it creates a much more interesting picture than toppled columns and building foundations. Yet, it is something to be cautious about. In this class, it has been very clear that these are the best reconstructions based on what is known from the literary and archaeological sources. If there is really not enough evidence to draw any sort of conclusion, then Professor Hall will simply say that we don't know. However, the books and museums do not seem to make this disclaimer as strongly, and often just present the reconstructions as fact rather than hypothesis. Thus, I feel some reservations about trusting the models or rebuilt sites regularly seen in our travels. The evidence doesn't seem to live up to a rigorous standard, in many cases, and so I wonder how much we actually know, versus how much is mere guesswork.

Sorry for the recent post drought. After being gone for three days, I've had a lot to catch up on, and so haven't been blogging. I'm currently sorting through all of my photographs and notes from the trip to the Argolid, so hopefully the posts from those three days will be up shortly. In the meantime, though, I wanted to talk about some events that took place over the weekend.

On Thursday, while I was in the Argolid, a man named Dmitris Christoulas, a 77 year old retired pharmacist, committed suicide in Syntagma Square, as a protest to the austerity measures. In his suicide note, he wrote, "I cannot find any other form of struggle except a dignified end before I have to start scrounging for food from the rubbish" (source). Following this, Greek citizens reacted violently. There were riots on Thursday, following the event, and again on Saturday, after his funeral procession. I don't know how this event has rippled outside of Greece, but within the country, it seems to be making quite an impact. There's more information on the funeral, and the reactions of the Greek people, here.

Yesterday afternoon, after checking that everything was all calm, my roommate and I went to Syntagma to see the reaction. In the center of the square is a giant tree, covered with lights and paper notes and signs, surrounded by rings of candles and flowers. There were many people there, adding their own notes, placing flowers, or just reading the outpouring of anger and sadness already presented. It was a really powerful memorial, and one of the first really clear signs I've seen that all is not right in this country. On the surface, everyone is happy and peaceful, and things are going well. But economically and politically, things are far from nice and settled. Sometimes, that tension boils up to the surface, like it did this weekend.

For the past two weeks, I've been wandering around in ancient history, looking at artifacts and sites from 2000+ years ago. But that's not the only history present in this country. Right now, if I stop to look, there's history happening all around me. Greece is at a tipping point, and the future is uncertain, for both the country and its people.

Today is April 5th, which by itself doesn't mean a whole lot. I don't know of any major Greek historical events (or American ones, for that matter) that took place today.

However, it is an important day to me, because today is my boyfriend's birthday. In particular, it's the day he finally escapes being a teenager. The rest of this post is addressed to him.

C.: I hope you have a fantastic day, and I'm sorry I'm so far away right now. I can't wait to tell you all the stories about my adventures here in Greece, and hear yours from Flag and Boulder. I can't wait till I can show you this place, and discover new ones with you.

Happy birthday!

I am not a huge fan of modern or abstract art, in the States. Most of it just makes no sense to me, or seems like a waste of space and material. Now, that's not to say that I hate all of it: I can find individual pieces that I like in any style or genre, be it in visual art, music, theatre, literature, what have you. However, a few pieces here and there are far from the whole, and American contemporary art does nothing for me.

On the tour of Greek galleries tonight, however, I found that that attitude applies much more strongly to American modern art than to Greek modern art. We took a tour of 5 different galleries in the Kolonaki area, each with very different pieces on display. The first we went to featured the art of Manolis Charos, made within the last four years. These pieces were primarily surrealist-like paintings, with one found object sculpture. I really liked most of them, particularly these couple:




The next gallery was also really interesting, this time featuring a paper sculpture artist, Tsakirakakis. His works combine color, dimensionality, and language to create some really powerful images. Some of his works are simply beautiful, like his piece "Smell", which is a paper construction depicting flowers with the word smell entwined in the leaves. Others were more political, such as one showing a ton of cars tangled up in traffic, emitting CO2, or one with the word "Democracy worked into it. My favorite one, simply because it's a bit funny, is the Politics one:



The last few galleries did not impress me quite as much as the first two, but they were still interesting in their own right. The third featured the work of Aikaterini Gegisian, in an exhibit titled "Who Doesn't Like a Good Old Story?" She is an Armenian artist, and so her photography focuses on Armenian subjects. There was a lot of contrast between the old and the new, and nature versus the man-made in her work, which was quite interesting. The fourth included the works of Alexis Korbis, in "Third Heaven". These painting were very realistic, with dark backgrounds and human figures, presented as they look in life. These figures all seemed to be contemplating themselves, and usually a reflection or faded image of the subject was included in each work. Finally, the last gallery displayed the work of Maria Blanth, who does abstract clay sculpture. This was probably the least favorite of the shows we visited, simply because it is this kind of "find your own meaning" abstraction that is overwhelming in American modern art, that I tend to find somewhat useless. Still, it was interesting listening to the artist talk about her work, so that improved it somewhat.

For the past two weeks, I've seen a lot of art and architecture, but most of the focus has been on pre-Classical works. While that is something that interests me more than modern art, in general, in general, here in Athens, those pieces are remnants of a long-gone era. Visiting these galleries, and seeing and hearing how Greeks today view their world and interpret it through visual media, has given me much more of a sense of what this country, today, is going through. Despite outward appearances at the moment, it isn't a settled, peaceful, "first-world" sort of place... it is a people and a culture going through a time of unsettlement, of change, of coming to a new identity. That theme ran through all the art I saw tonight, and has given me a new perspective on this place I call home for the next few months.

I wish I could say that I've been really productive and done all sorta of awesome things this weekend. It would make a much better excuse fit not blogging yesterday. But, in all honestly, I haven't done much this weekend. I've been a bit sick, and so ended up sleeping, reading, or watching TV shows for much of the past 48 hours, because I simply didn't feel up to doing anything else.

That being said, though, I did go on a couple short adventures, while most of the rest of the group was out partying and island hopping. The first of these, yesterday, me and one roommate went to the Areopagus again, and then tried to figure out if you could walk all the way around the base of the Acropolis (you can't). It was a nice walk, but nothing terribly groundbreaking.

Today, however, we went to a little museum near the National Gardens. They had a temporary exhibit there on the Greek-Turkish population exchange, which took place in 1923. Between war and the exchange, over 1,200,000 "Greeks" (actually just people who followed the Greek Orthodox religion) in Turkey were deported to Greece, and thousands of Muslims were deported from Greece to Turkey. The photos of these refugees, and the conditions they lived in, were extremely powerful. I think my favorite photo, however, was of a little refugee girl, sitting in the lap of a member of the Greek ceremonial guard, just laughing and playing shy with the camera. If there is ever a tragedy so great that not even kids can laugh, I don't think anyone will have hope for the future.