This may have already came through in the other posts I've written about Greece, but the dominant thing I took away from the trip was a feeling of hope. There isn't anyway to write about this without being a bit corny, and I imagine when I'm twenty-six I'll find this post embarrassing.
I've always been interested in the concept of heroism, ranging from people who change the world and stand up to obstacles just in the way they live their lives. When I was in ninth and tenth grade, I wrote thousands of pages about the examples of heroism I saw in my friends, calling it the "Hero Project."
As I've gotten older, the people I have known have increasingly been able to shape more than their own lives. I'm grateful that no matter how throughly I've learned to, say, problematize a development initative, I've never lost the ability to be inspired by other people.
In Greece, I was surrounded by people who were interested in transforming available information in their countries. They wanted to tell true stories and wanted to hear the stories other people told. In parts of the former Soviet bloc, this is the first generation that has a free press. It takes integrity to report on business or economics in a place where traditionally businesses bribed reporters for favorable coverage. It's brave to be a reporter in a country where a Nobel Prize winning author was prosecuted for "insulting the Republic."
It was also really interesting to hear about the projects people were working on. The German participants, who were all university students, work for a student-run TV news project called "NGO TV." They do media trainings for people who have less media awareness and access, and then put together broadcasts collaboratively. They're just starting out, but they made a twenty minute documentary on the recent EU youth economic summit in Poland.
It felt like a 30 under 30 list, the civil society version.
At one point, I was having a conversation with some of the participants in the hotel lounge, and a young woman said something like, "Well, the world's going to end soon anyway from terrorism or nuclear war, so we might as well have fun in the meantime." She was just kidding, but I was still struck by the glib fatalism.
I just don't believe there are intractable problems-- or at least problems not worth the struggle of trying to fixing. Is this an America thing, or a Swattie thing, or a me thing? A couple of professors mentioned that structural explanations are much more popular in Europe, and Marxist models for understanding history are still academically in vogue, so perhaps there's just more emphasis on individual agency in America. (Let's single-handedly unseat dictators, who cares about waiting for structural change!)
The title of this post comes from a Dar Williams song, "The World's Not Falling Apart Because of Me." It's never been clear to me whether she's talking about keeping the world from falling apart through her actions, or whether she is instead mocking her inability to have a dramatic impact on the world.
I know there's a healthy dose of hubris in talking about fixing problems or changing the world. My best defense is that I feel this way because of the people I have known, and not because of what I believe I as an individual am capable of.
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Parliament by noon, nightclub by midnight (EMJI II)
More Greece highlights:
-Most nights I was in Greece, we either had formal program dinners or I wound up going out to dinner with Rachel, Michelle, Theo and Theo's wife Aliki. This was lovely, and I think I got to eat in some of the nicest restaurants in Athens. However, I knew that all the students on the program were hanging out, etc, so it was nice to have a few nights off. On one of these nights, I went out to a Greek taverna with Konstadina, a Greek native and intern in the NATO office, a journalist from Romania named Antonia, and Konstadina's friends. The taverna had a roof and some walls, but the windows were just open air so the wind and sounds from the street could flow through. We drank warm honey wine out of these tiny thimble-like glasses and ate mezzes. Konstadina, who is one of the warmest people I've ever met, was a paragon of hospitality and basically hand fed me the choicest ones. I hope she visits me in the U.S. one day.
We wanted to meet up with the rest of the students at a club nearby, but had a hard time finding the place. Konstadina and Antonia were in the throes of parallel boy drama (I need more drama) and we dissected their situations as we walked around. I was surprised by the universality--I'm too proud to call him because I don't want him to know I like him that much. It was a really warm night, and I enjoyed seeing all the Athenians in their going-out finery. I have major European style envy. I felt less lonely than I'd felt in weeks.
Finally, we found the club and discovered that our friends had taken over the second floor. I'm becoming convinced there's an inverse relationship between the ease of life in a country and the ability of its citizens to dance. Some of these kids were fun just to watch (but they were so encouraging that I got dragged into the dancing anyway). At Swarthmore, I consider someone a good dancer if they stick to the rhythm consistently. These dancers had an electric creativity, rendering eclectic, almost awkward moves magnetic.
-We had several formal program dinners. One was at the US Embassy, which was much less stiff and more interesting than I'd expected. The acting ambassador was surprisingly candid-- especially about independence for Kosovo-- for a diplomat faced with a pack of young journalists. During the Q and A, I decided to ask him about how he handled tensions between his personal beliefs and his professional obligations. He admitted there was a tension, but that things are rarely black and white and there are more channels for dissent in the state department than there were five years ago. I think we were both implicitly referring to the resignation of John Brady Kiesling. When I was a freshman in college, I interviewed Swat alum John Kiesling, who left the State Department in 2003 because he was unwilling to continue to try to sell the Iraq war in Greece. I was barely eighteen at the time, it was my first big interview, and I had a huge admire-crush.
-Another night, we had dinner at the Greek Officer's Club, where we were served by Greek soldiers in uniform. I have a friend or two who would have gotten a huge kick out of that. I accidentally ate caviar (I thought it was a coarse olive paste and put a huge lump on a cracker-- ooops) and liked it. The embassies of all the students in attendance were invited to the dinner, and I sat at a table with a Turkish diplomat who had previously served in the US and New Delhi (we discovered he was on facebook!) and a Greek head of Amnesty.
They had a long discussion about the extent to which Turkey's human rights record is an excuse for not letting it into the EU. They also inverted the normal discussion in an interesting way. Maybe it's easier for European leaders to emphasize the unpopularity of allowing in a majority-Muslim country than to criticize Turkey for its human rights record. It allows both governments a convenient out: The EU can say, "we'd let you in, but our people aren't enlightened enough. Let's keep trading." Turkey can say "It's an all Christian club." This is potentially less embarrassing for both countries than direct tension over civil liberties in Turkey. It's a more out-there interpretation, but I think it's interesting. It reminds me of the multiple level trade negotiation models from International Politics that Robert Putnam developed.
-Most of our events and speakers were in English, but the two sessions in Greek were my favorite. In part, they were cool because we all got headphones to wear that had simultaneous translation. What really made the sessions was that the journalists asked really hard questions.
The first of these sessions was on the Greek fires. A governor from a province affected by the fires was on the panel, and I was impressed by the ways they had moved to rapidly aid and compensate the victims. A very young Greek media-lawyer (you can have a law degree in Greece when you're 23!) really grilled him, and asked him why the military hadn't intervened sooner. His answer was that the military was mainly made of nineteen and twenty year old boys who weren't trained to fight fires. She pointed out that fires, although usually less severe, were almost an annual occurrence, and asked why the soldiers weren't trained to respond. He couldn't answer.
-The next day, we had a session with five members of the new parliament, including the parliament's president and representatives of all five major parties. A Macedonian journalist asked a deliberately provocative question about Macedonia, and the far-right parliamentary shot him down for being disrespectful and not saying FYROM. We were worried we were going to get thrown out of Parliament for a minute or two. A Greek-German woman asked about immigration policy, and the Israeli journalist asked why there was so little anti-smoking legislation in Greece (Aliki calls it the world's last true democracy and blows smoke circles whenever this comes up). I asked the representative from the center-left party why they had suffered a larger defeat than expected and what their strategy as the major opposition party was. (The poor woman. Theo told me later that she was dismayed "the Americans" knew her party had done so badly. And she was my favorite!)It was a much faster paced, firey session that I had expected and there was very little empty speech. Conclusion: it's more fun to meet important people with journalists than with wanna-be important people.
-On the last night after the "graduation ceremony," we all had a party in one of the hotel rooms, spilling out onto the balcony and across the bed. The sink and the bathtub were full of ice as a cooler for the drinks, but then we realized we didn't have cups. Some people suggested we borrow some from the unlocked hotel bar, but everyone wound up going back to their rooms to get a few.
-After EMJI ended, Rachel and I stayed on a few more days in Greece and Theo got wrapped up in a whole lot of last minute Atlantic Treaty Association election tension. There's nothing like election tension. At one point, they asked me to make a score sheet to count off the expected votes (of countries, no less!) and I felt a little like I was in high school, trying to figure out if I had enough votes to run for something or other.
-Most nights I was in Greece, we either had formal program dinners or I wound up going out to dinner with Rachel, Michelle, Theo and Theo's wife Aliki. This was lovely, and I think I got to eat in some of the nicest restaurants in Athens. However, I knew that all the students on the program were hanging out, etc, so it was nice to have a few nights off. On one of these nights, I went out to a Greek taverna with Konstadina, a Greek native and intern in the NATO office, a journalist from Romania named Antonia, and Konstadina's friends. The taverna had a roof and some walls, but the windows were just open air so the wind and sounds from the street could flow through. We drank warm honey wine out of these tiny thimble-like glasses and ate mezzes. Konstadina, who is one of the warmest people I've ever met, was a paragon of hospitality and basically hand fed me the choicest ones. I hope she visits me in the U.S. one day.
We wanted to meet up with the rest of the students at a club nearby, but had a hard time finding the place. Konstadina and Antonia were in the throes of parallel boy drama (I need more drama) and we dissected their situations as we walked around. I was surprised by the universality--I'm too proud to call him because I don't want him to know I like him that much. It was a really warm night, and I enjoyed seeing all the Athenians in their going-out finery. I have major European style envy. I felt less lonely than I'd felt in weeks.
Finally, we found the club and discovered that our friends had taken over the second floor. I'm becoming convinced there's an inverse relationship between the ease of life in a country and the ability of its citizens to dance. Some of these kids were fun just to watch (but they were so encouraging that I got dragged into the dancing anyway). At Swarthmore, I consider someone a good dancer if they stick to the rhythm consistently. These dancers had an electric creativity, rendering eclectic, almost awkward moves magnetic.
-We had several formal program dinners. One was at the US Embassy, which was much less stiff and more interesting than I'd expected. The acting ambassador was surprisingly candid-- especially about independence for Kosovo-- for a diplomat faced with a pack of young journalists. During the Q and A, I decided to ask him about how he handled tensions between his personal beliefs and his professional obligations. He admitted there was a tension, but that things are rarely black and white and there are more channels for dissent in the state department than there were five years ago. I think we were both implicitly referring to the resignation of John Brady Kiesling. When I was a freshman in college, I interviewed Swat alum John Kiesling, who left the State Department in 2003 because he was unwilling to continue to try to sell the Iraq war in Greece. I was barely eighteen at the time, it was my first big interview, and I had a huge admire-crush.
-Another night, we had dinner at the Greek Officer's Club, where we were served by Greek soldiers in uniform. I have a friend or two who would have gotten a huge kick out of that. I accidentally ate caviar (I thought it was a coarse olive paste and put a huge lump on a cracker-- ooops) and liked it. The embassies of all the students in attendance were invited to the dinner, and I sat at a table with a Turkish diplomat who had previously served in the US and New Delhi (we discovered he was on facebook!) and a Greek head of Amnesty.
They had a long discussion about the extent to which Turkey's human rights record is an excuse for not letting it into the EU. They also inverted the normal discussion in an interesting way. Maybe it's easier for European leaders to emphasize the unpopularity of allowing in a majority-Muslim country than to criticize Turkey for its human rights record. It allows both governments a convenient out: The EU can say, "we'd let you in, but our people aren't enlightened enough. Let's keep trading." Turkey can say "It's an all Christian club." This is potentially less embarrassing for both countries than direct tension over civil liberties in Turkey. It's a more out-there interpretation, but I think it's interesting. It reminds me of the multiple level trade negotiation models from International Politics that Robert Putnam developed.
-Most of our events and speakers were in English, but the two sessions in Greek were my favorite. In part, they were cool because we all got headphones to wear that had simultaneous translation. What really made the sessions was that the journalists asked really hard questions.
The first of these sessions was on the Greek fires. A governor from a province affected by the fires was on the panel, and I was impressed by the ways they had moved to rapidly aid and compensate the victims. A very young Greek media-lawyer (you can have a law degree in Greece when you're 23!) really grilled him, and asked him why the military hadn't intervened sooner. His answer was that the military was mainly made of nineteen and twenty year old boys who weren't trained to fight fires. She pointed out that fires, although usually less severe, were almost an annual occurrence, and asked why the soldiers weren't trained to respond. He couldn't answer.
-The next day, we had a session with five members of the new parliament, including the parliament's president and representatives of all five major parties. A Macedonian journalist asked a deliberately provocative question about Macedonia, and the far-right parliamentary shot him down for being disrespectful and not saying FYROM. We were worried we were going to get thrown out of Parliament for a minute or two. A Greek-German woman asked about immigration policy, and the Israeli journalist asked why there was so little anti-smoking legislation in Greece (Aliki calls it the world's last true democracy and blows smoke circles whenever this comes up). I asked the representative from the center-left party why they had suffered a larger defeat than expected and what their strategy as the major opposition party was. (The poor woman. Theo told me later that she was dismayed "the Americans" knew her party had done so badly. And she was my favorite!)It was a much faster paced, firey session that I had expected and there was very little empty speech. Conclusion: it's more fun to meet important people with journalists than with wanna-be important people.
-On the last night after the "graduation ceremony," we all had a party in one of the hotel rooms, spilling out onto the balcony and across the bed. The sink and the bathtub were full of ice as a cooler for the drinks, but then we realized we didn't have cups. Some people suggested we borrow some from the unlocked hotel bar, but everyone wound up going back to their rooms to get a few.
-After EMJI ended, Rachel and I stayed on a few more days in Greece and Theo got wrapped up in a whole lot of last minute Atlantic Treaty Association election tension. There's nothing like election tension. At one point, they asked me to make a score sheet to count off the expected votes (of countries, no less!) and I felt a little like I was in high school, trying to figure out if I had enough votes to run for something or other.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
EMJI Highlights Part I
This post is just going to be the first of several collections of highlights from
-It was nearly impossible to live a meal sober; we all ate at a meze place after visiting the acropolis and when the waiter asked us what we wanted to drink, we said 'nothing.' "Nothing," apparently, means no hard alcohol, as we discovered when he brought over carafes of red and white wine. Ah well, not going to complain about free alcohol. This was about when I learned to say cheers in Serbo-Croatian: Zhi-val-ee. (In
-Bruce Clark, the international editor for The Economist, came to speak to us towards the end of the program. He talked about his experiences in the former Soviet block countries, and how difficult it was to make economic predictions without freedom of information. He asked the Ukrainian journalists whether it was still common for companies to offer journalists bribes for favorable coverage. They shook their heads, but the Lithuanian journalist, who covered business news, said it was still very common in
-At one point, a journalist from
Cigarettes and Coffee
I’ve read a lot in various women’s magazines about why Europeans are thinner (ops, I mean, healthier) than Americans. It usually seems to boil down to really enjoying what they eat, walking more, and eating more fresh produce. From a public policy perspective, this is a pretty compelling explanation: if people believe those are the reasons Europeans are healthier, they will make healthier lifestyle choices.
I’m not sure it adds up, though.
I am guilty of a couple of unhealthy behaviors. I certainly drink more caffeine than recommended, and probably more alcohol too. I think cheese should be eaten at every meal. I have to be forced to stretch and rarely get enough sleep. (I live dangerously, I know.) On the whole, though, my college friends and I would make excellent “healthy Europeans.” We eat produce several times a day and walk whenever it is remotely possible. This leaves me confused why an American size small is a Greek anything-but (Oh, just wait till
One reason that may partially account for the European-American size gap occurred to me one morning at breakfast in our hotel. I was sleepily munching on a bowl of whole grain cereal, and noticed my tablemates were already lighting up their cigarettes as they picked at their pain au chocolate. Vindication.
Greece Background Part III: Turkey
A final issue that was key during my time in Greece was Turkish EU accession. I have a feeling if I'd been in Greece a year ago-- or even six months ago-- this would have been an even hotter topic, but I think Turkey has lost some interest in the meantime.
Basically, Turkey wants to join the EU and its economy is in proper, EU friendly shape. (Between 2002-2006, the average growth rate was 7%, about four times the average EU growth rate.) Despite a long-standing dispute over Cyprus, Greece has been a key sponsor for Turkish EU accession. Turkey and Greece have a rocky history, but according to my Turkish journalist friend, things have been hunky dory since the 1999 earthquake, when Greece led the outpouring of support for its' Eastern neighbor.
There have been a couple explanations why Turkish EU membership has been so slow. I have my own biases-- I visited Turkey in January and just really liked it (of course, I wasn't a political dissent or a Kurd...), and am also cynical about the inelasticity of the European identity.
1) Cyprus negotiations. Turkey must open its ports to all (Greek) Cypriot planes and vessels before succession can take place.
2) "Turkey doesn't have the proper paperwork and records because it isn't a proper democracy." I heard this one a lot but I'm not sure what it means.
3) Turkish compliance with various EU protocol (for instance, food safety policy and intellectual property law) will take more time.
4) Human rights abuses and lack of freedom of press.
5) Turkey is a majority Muslim (99%) country and just "isn't European."
I think reasons (2) and (3) are excuses that make the delay look reasonable on paper. It's hard for me to believe that Turkey would have a harder time complying-- or worse record-keeping-- than some of the former Soviet bloc countries that joined the EU that have spent the past decade and a half rebuilding their infrastructure from scratch. I don't know enough about Cyprus to comment on reason (1) although it seems like a plausible roadblock. I think (4) and (5) are the most interesting reasons.
Public opinion in Europe, as gauged by the Eurobarometer, is against Turkish succession. Turkey has a population of 70 million and its population growth rate is much faster than that of most EU members. Allowing Turkey into the EU wouldn't be bringing in just a small Muslim country but could change the composition of the whole EU. I think the popular resistance to Turkish accession is based on fears about a shifting European identity. While this is depressing, I bet that in 1988, the year Turkey first applied for EU membership, it was hard to imagine Bulgaria and Lithuania as members, so it seems clear the European identity is in flux.
The human rights issue is a difficult one. Turkey is a democracy that holds free and fair elections, but the army last intervened because they didn't like the election result in 1997. Political dissents who go against the nationalist line are sometimes put on trial for their views. The Freedom House Index (which is addictive) gives Turkey about the same ranking as Bosnia, Macedonia, Montenegro and Moldova.
http://www.freedomhouse.org/template.cfm?page=22&country=7291&year=2007
I wish the EU would be more strategic about using membership as a lever if this was the primary issue, though.
Basically, Turkey wants to join the EU and its economy is in proper, EU friendly shape. (Between 2002-2006, the average growth rate was 7%, about four times the average EU growth rate.) Despite a long-standing dispute over Cyprus, Greece has been a key sponsor for Turkish EU accession. Turkey and Greece have a rocky history, but according to my Turkish journalist friend, things have been hunky dory since the 1999 earthquake, when Greece led the outpouring of support for its' Eastern neighbor.
There have been a couple explanations why Turkish EU membership has been so slow. I have my own biases-- I visited Turkey in January and just really liked it (of course, I wasn't a political dissent or a Kurd...), and am also cynical about the inelasticity of the European identity.
1) Cyprus negotiations. Turkey must open its ports to all (Greek) Cypriot planes and vessels before succession can take place.
2) "Turkey doesn't have the proper paperwork and records because it isn't a proper democracy." I heard this one a lot but I'm not sure what it means.
3) Turkish compliance with various EU protocol (for instance, food safety policy and intellectual property law) will take more time.
4) Human rights abuses and lack of freedom of press.
5) Turkey is a majority Muslim (99%) country and just "isn't European."
I think reasons (2) and (3) are excuses that make the delay look reasonable on paper. It's hard for me to believe that Turkey would have a harder time complying-- or worse record-keeping-- than some of the former Soviet bloc countries that joined the EU that have spent the past decade and a half rebuilding their infrastructure from scratch. I don't know enough about Cyprus to comment on reason (1) although it seems like a plausible roadblock. I think (4) and (5) are the most interesting reasons.
Public opinion in Europe, as gauged by the Eurobarometer, is against Turkish succession. Turkey has a population of 70 million and its population growth rate is much faster than that of most EU members. Allowing Turkey into the EU wouldn't be bringing in just a small Muslim country but could change the composition of the whole EU. I think the popular resistance to Turkish accession is based on fears about a shifting European identity. While this is depressing, I bet that in 1988, the year Turkey first applied for EU membership, it was hard to imagine Bulgaria and Lithuania as members, so it seems clear the European identity is in flux.
The human rights issue is a difficult one. Turkey is a democracy that holds free and fair elections, but the army last intervened because they didn't like the election result in 1997. Political dissents who go against the nationalist line are sometimes put on trial for their views. The Freedom House Index (which is addictive) gives Turkey about the same ranking as Bosnia, Macedonia, Montenegro and Moldova.
http://www.freedomhouse.org/template.cfm?page=22&country=7291&year=2007
I wish the EU would be more strategic about using membership as a lever if this was the primary issue, though.
Greece Background Part II: What's in a Name?
I stayed up late last night to finish a work related task because I was on a roll (hey, old habits die hard) so I have some wiggle time during the day today and have high hopes of finishing up with everything I want to say about Greece.
Right now, Greece has an ongoing dispute with the Republic of Macedonia over its name. Macedonia is a small landlocked country that was part of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia until 1991. Greece worries that Macedonia is attempting to appropriate parts of its history by its name (which is also a region in Greece), and by claiming that it is the birth place of Alexander the Great. Macedonia's first flag after independence had the Vergina sun on it, a symbol of King Phillip II of Macedon, Alexander the Great's father. Tensions increased when Macedonia named their airport Alexander the Great airport. As a result, Macedonia is identified as FYROM (the Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia) in most official documents. Because NATO and EU secession is dependent upon the resolution of this dispute, it's become a very serious issue.
More and more countries (around 181 now) recognize FYROM as Macedonia, so it seems clear that Greece will have to cave eventually. The Greeks I met often delicately referred to the Macedonian journalists as "the young men from Skopje," the capital city of Macedonia.
The issue was a difficult one for me to understand as an outsider. I think I could understand a little better if the dispute was conveyed in economic terms-- Greece didn't want Macedonia the country to steal tourists from Macedonia the region--but the Greeks I spoke with were extremely emotional about the issue, arguing that Macedonia was an affront to their identity.
A young journalist from Israel was equally bewildered by the issue and Michelle told me that at a conference once the Jordanian and Israeli participants started laughing when the Macedonia issue came up. When she asked them to calm down, they explained they wished all they were fighting over was a name.
One "facet" of the problem is that Macedonia was a kingdom in ancient Greece inhabited by ancient Greeks whereas Macedonia the country is inhabited by Slavs. Some Greeks worry the modern Macedonians are trying to claim a Greek identity or conflate Slavic and Greek identities. (Although I think different responsible ethnic historians have argued both that the Greeks ARE Slavs and that the Macedonians aren't Slavs--it's kind of blurry.) The issue of the birthplace of Alexander the Great is also a sensitive one: everybody loves a conqueror. Greeks also worry that the name is a precursor to Macedonian territorial ambitions to spread into Greek Macedonia. (Maybe they should jump this hurdle once they get to it.)
This may seem like a long treatise in something of dubious international importance, but I do think it's a pretty unique conflict and underpinned a lot of the political conversations I had in Greece. If anyone "gets it" or can think of a parallel instance, I'd love to hear.
Right now, Greece has an ongoing dispute with the Republic of Macedonia over its name. Macedonia is a small landlocked country that was part of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia until 1991. Greece worries that Macedonia is attempting to appropriate parts of its history by its name (which is also a region in Greece), and by claiming that it is the birth place of Alexander the Great. Macedonia's first flag after independence had the Vergina sun on it, a symbol of King Phillip II of Macedon, Alexander the Great's father. Tensions increased when Macedonia named their airport Alexander the Great airport. As a result, Macedonia is identified as FYROM (the Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia) in most official documents. Because NATO and EU secession is dependent upon the resolution of this dispute, it's become a very serious issue.
More and more countries (around 181 now) recognize FYROM as Macedonia, so it seems clear that Greece will have to cave eventually. The Greeks I met often delicately referred to the Macedonian journalists as "the young men from Skopje," the capital city of Macedonia.
The issue was a difficult one for me to understand as an outsider. I think I could understand a little better if the dispute was conveyed in economic terms-- Greece didn't want Macedonia the country to steal tourists from Macedonia the region--but the Greeks I spoke with were extremely emotional about the issue, arguing that Macedonia was an affront to their identity.
A young journalist from Israel was equally bewildered by the issue and Michelle told me that at a conference once the Jordanian and Israeli participants started laughing when the Macedonia issue came up. When she asked them to calm down, they explained they wished all they were fighting over was a name.
One "facet" of the problem is that Macedonia was a kingdom in ancient Greece inhabited by ancient Greeks whereas Macedonia the country is inhabited by Slavs. Some Greeks worry the modern Macedonians are trying to claim a Greek identity or conflate Slavic and Greek identities. (Although I think different responsible ethnic historians have argued both that the Greeks ARE Slavs and that the Macedonians aren't Slavs--it's kind of blurry.) The issue of the birthplace of Alexander the Great is also a sensitive one: everybody loves a conqueror. Greeks also worry that the name is a precursor to Macedonian territorial ambitions to spread into Greek Macedonia. (Maybe they should jump this hurdle once they get to it.)
This may seem like a long treatise in something of dubious international importance, but I do think it's a pretty unique conflict and underpinned a lot of the political conversations I had in Greece. If anyone "gets it" or can think of a parallel instance, I'd love to hear.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Athens and the Acropolis
I can imagine what it would be like to know you were back home with your eyes shut. I’m learning that each place has a distinctive smell and feeling to the air. I think I first noticed this when in
There was a lot of homelessness in Greece. Before, I would have interpreted the lack thereof in the UAE as a good thing, but because I know there's extreme poverty there, it instead seems sinister that it is so invisible. It reminds me of an argument I read when writing a con law paper on public forums (fora?):
"In their article, “Begging to Differ: The First Amendment and the Right to Beg,” Cohen and Herschkoff argue that this discomfort is a valuable result of free speech. To deprive poor people of the right to beg does not only deny them of a way to earn money but also denies them the ability to make the public aware of their plight. Begging is an individual commentary on social order—the belief that it is the duty of the prosperous to help the less fortunate in their communities. It also provides the listener with valuable information about their opportunities to be charitable. Although begging is certainly partially financially motivated, so are other protected forms of expression such as movies, music and books."
It's a problem when people are denied the ability to communicate their need. On the other hand, the different could stem from the fact that the poor in the UAE are working: I'd bet a lot that unemployment is much higher in Greece. Also, marginalized populations in the UAE are there FOR work whereas some of the marginalized populations in Greece (the Roma) may be discriminated against in hiring. Anyway, this is all just speculation.(And now for a lesson in contrast...)
On my first night in Greece, we ate at the Athens Club with Theo and Michelle, which was quite the introduction. The Athens Club is sort of an old school British gentlemen's club that only allowed women in a few years ago. Theo had decided that EMJI would have their graduation there, so we were scouting it out. It was there that I discovered that even zucchini is good with enough lemon. This made enough of an impression that I wrote my first Greece post about the wonders of lemon. We also had a Greek salad with lemon, feta and spinach pastries, and dolma in lemon sauce. There was an amazing view of the Acropolis from the roof, and at the table next to us, some cabinet members were discussing their choices for their new under-secretaries.
On Sunday, before the EMJI academic program started but after I'd prepared some materials for Rachel, I went to go see the acropolis with the journalists. It was a beautiful, very sunny day. In January, I went to see Ephesus in Turkey with my father, and I think the Acropolis itself was a bit of a let down for me after this. Maybe the Acropolis is more architecturally impressive or restored with more care, but Ephesus is really cool because it's a whole city. I liked imaging people meeting in the agora, going to the library or walking down mainstreet. The Acropolis is a temple where people went once or twice a month, so there's less scope for the imagination.
However, the view of Athens and the surrounding countryside from the Acropolis is absolutely amazing. Athens is a pretty big city--6 million out of Greece's 11 million inhabitants live there-- but from the Acropolis, you can take in the whole city and the mountains. It was clear enough for us to see all the way to the ocean. I'd have hiked up just for the view alone.
Chronicles of a Formerly Picky Eater
I used to be a very picky eater. I went into college a vegetarian, although I (somewhat painfully) transitioned out of that before my trip to Tanzania. I didn't eat pizza until my junior year of college, or tomatoes. I didn't like (non-cheddar) cheese until I went to France sophomore year. (This is hard for me to imagine right now). However, this really only scraps the surface of my limited palette. Before college, my diet consisted mainly of yogurt, cereal, green apples, chick peas, grapes, carrots and ceasar salad. I don't know how my parents put up with me. When people invited us over for dinner, I politely asked if they had cereal.
I think I first discovered the joys of real food (read: cheese and nutella) when in Paris with my friend Eleuthera on spring break. Life without cheese seems pretty unpalatable now. The beginning of the end was probably the summer after my sophomore year, when I worked a lot with African refugee families and decided it was just plain rude not to eat the food they offered me. When I went after to Tanzania the next summer, we were frequently served nyama, an all-encompassing term that means "animal," and although we never learned to love it, we became able to eat a polite amount without wincing. As for ndizi (banana) cooked with tomatoes? Bring it on! We also discovered the wonders of Ethiopian food and I truly enjoyed meat for the first time.
In the past few weeks, I've discovered just how necessary my devolution from selectivity was. In Greece, I rarely got to choose my own food. When we went out to eat with Theo and Aliki, Theo inevitably ordered our food with input from Aliki. In some ways, this felt very old world-- I can't really imagine men routinely ordering for women in the U.S. On the other hand, it made sense because Rachel, Michelle, and I couldn't speak or read Greek. I came to trust that they would pick 'something good.' There's a small list of foods I still dislike-- like zucchini-- but I learned even zucchini is good if you put enough lemon on it.
I don't have a fridge in my apartment yet in Japan, so I often go to the convenience store ("Family Mart") to pick out healthy, cheap, ready made food. One of my favorites is onigiri, triangle-shaped rice balls with different fillings wrapped in seaweed. Luckily, they are color-coded so I can tell what's in them. The blue ones are my favorite-- they are filled with tuna, a food I thought I hated a week ago.
In general, though, my food shopping is hit or miss. Not only can I not read Japanese, but a lot of the food doesn't look like anything I've experienced before. I'm kind of intimidated by the heads of fish, but other than that, I'm never sure what I'm eating until I bite into it. I can't even reliably predict whether things are sweet or not. The other day, I accidentally bought sippable sweetened aloe vera yogurt for breakfast. At least now I know how to avoid it.
I know how to ask several helpful questions in Japanese: What is this thing near me? What is this thing closer to you? What is that distant thing? I imagine these could prove helpful at some future date. At this point, I could ask, but wouldn't understand the answers.
The only part of the food label I can read is the numerical part of the nutrition facts. Thus, I know my onigiri has 187 kcal, 5.5 g something and 3.1 g something else. My meal shopping is sort of like a mathematical scavenger hunt: find 600 calories. Go!
Another challenge is that what seems to be fairly extreme dieting here is so common that a lot of 'healthy' foods are insubstantial. I'm looking for a salad that has more than 54 calories to go with my onigiri after a long run, thanks. The solution is definitely mochi, a warm dumpling filled with delicious sweet red bean jelly.
The final grocery shopping challenge begins when I order mochi at the counter, where they are in a heater. "Mochi, I request," I say in terrible Japanese. Then I point to the pink one. This doesn't always work and there is a lot of confusion. "Sorry," I say. "I don't understand Japanese. Thank you." The cashier then has a lot of things to tell me about my food or its cost or the transaction in general. I'm not sure if these are expressions of surprise ("That is a very strange meal." "Thank you."), warnings about the food, ("The onigiri is no good today. It might make you sick." "Sorry.") or friendly conversation, ("Are you from America?" "Thank you" again.) but I stick to my stock phrases. Right now my favorite word in Japanese is ho-ten-ni, which means totally/very, but I haven't figured out a way to work that into my grocery shopping. I do totally request mochi, but I don't know which part of the sentence the adverb belongs in.
I think I first discovered the joys of real food (read: cheese and nutella) when in Paris with my friend Eleuthera on spring break. Life without cheese seems pretty unpalatable now. The beginning of the end was probably the summer after my sophomore year, when I worked a lot with African refugee families and decided it was just plain rude not to eat the food they offered me. When I went after to Tanzania the next summer, we were frequently served nyama, an all-encompassing term that means "animal," and although we never learned to love it, we became able to eat a polite amount without wincing. As for ndizi (banana) cooked with tomatoes? Bring it on! We also discovered the wonders of Ethiopian food and I truly enjoyed meat for the first time.
In the past few weeks, I've discovered just how necessary my devolution from selectivity was. In Greece, I rarely got to choose my own food. When we went out to eat with Theo and Aliki, Theo inevitably ordered our food with input from Aliki. In some ways, this felt very old world-- I can't really imagine men routinely ordering for women in the U.S. On the other hand, it made sense because Rachel, Michelle, and I couldn't speak or read Greek. I came to trust that they would pick 'something good.' There's a small list of foods I still dislike-- like zucchini-- but I learned even zucchini is good if you put enough lemon on it.
I don't have a fridge in my apartment yet in Japan, so I often go to the convenience store ("Family Mart") to pick out healthy, cheap, ready made food. One of my favorites is onigiri, triangle-shaped rice balls with different fillings wrapped in seaweed. Luckily, they are color-coded so I can tell what's in them. The blue ones are my favorite-- they are filled with tuna, a food I thought I hated a week ago.
In general, though, my food shopping is hit or miss. Not only can I not read Japanese, but a lot of the food doesn't look like anything I've experienced before. I'm kind of intimidated by the heads of fish, but other than that, I'm never sure what I'm eating until I bite into it. I can't even reliably predict whether things are sweet or not. The other day, I accidentally bought sippable sweetened aloe vera yogurt for breakfast. At least now I know how to avoid it.
I know how to ask several helpful questions in Japanese: What is this thing near me? What is this thing closer to you? What is that distant thing? I imagine these could prove helpful at some future date. At this point, I could ask, but wouldn't understand the answers.
The only part of the food label I can read is the numerical part of the nutrition facts. Thus, I know my onigiri has 187 kcal, 5.5 g something and 3.1 g something else. My meal shopping is sort of like a mathematical scavenger hunt: find 600 calories. Go!
Another challenge is that what seems to be fairly extreme dieting here is so common that a lot of 'healthy' foods are insubstantial. I'm looking for a salad that has more than 54 calories to go with my onigiri after a long run, thanks. The solution is definitely mochi, a warm dumpling filled with delicious sweet red bean jelly.
The final grocery shopping challenge begins when I order mochi at the counter, where they are in a heater. "Mochi, I request," I say in terrible Japanese. Then I point to the pink one. This doesn't always work and there is a lot of confusion. "Sorry," I say. "I don't understand Japanese. Thank you." The cashier then has a lot of things to tell me about my food or its cost or the transaction in general. I'm not sure if these are expressions of surprise ("That is a very strange meal." "Thank you."), warnings about the food, ("The onigiri is no good today. It might make you sick." "Sorry.") or friendly conversation, ("Are you from America?" "Thank you" again.) but I stick to my stock phrases. Right now my favorite word in Japanese is ho-ten-ni, which means totally/very, but I haven't figured out a way to work that into my grocery shopping. I do totally request mochi, but I don't know which part of the sentence the adverb belongs in.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Elections and Fires: Background Part I
We arrived in
What made this summer’s fires particularly unique was not only their devastation but also the mystery surrounding their cause and the lag in government response. In many cases, evidence of arson, such as bottles of gasoline, was found at the site of the fire. The long-standing (and in my opinion, plausible) explanation is that developers were trying to get around a provision of Greek property law that makes it illegal to build on forest land. The (now former) Minister of Public Order, Vyron Polydoras, claimed that
The other source of controversy surrounding the fires was the delayed government response. The fires started in June, but it wasn’t until August 25th that the government declared a national state of emergency, asked for EU help and sent troops to the areas affected by the fires. My impression is that aid to fire victims and refugees has been immediate and generous.
Arrival in Greece
We left the UAE for
My boss, Rachel, teaches at an annual ten-day conference class in
In the next few posts, I’m going to give a little background on major happenings in
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Ela from Greece
Sorry it's been so long since I've last posted. Most of the last week, I've been busy from eight am until two or three in the morning and the idea of trying to post about my last days in the UAE and the Greece trip seemed overwhelming when I was free.
However, tonight's the last night of our official program here, so I'm anticipating some time to update tomorrow. Highlights: the acropolis, discussing Turkish-EU accession with a Turkish diplomat, Greek food, a very candid meeting with some Greek MPs from across the political spectrum, the FYROM-Macedonia debate and views on journalism, from Lithuania to Egypt.
However, tonight's the last night of our official program here, so I'm anticipating some time to update tomorrow. Highlights: the acropolis, discussing Turkish-EU accession with a Turkish diplomat, Greek food, a very candid meeting with some Greek MPs from across the political spectrum, the FYROM-Macedonia debate and views on journalism, from Lithuania to Egypt.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Lemon
In Greece, they squeeze lemons on everything. This is definitely my kind of country.
Unfortunately, the amount of things I want to post greatly exceeds my amount of freedom, but I'll try to remedy that soon.
Unfortunately, the amount of things I want to post greatly exceeds my amount of freedom, but I'll try to remedy that soon.
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