Aegean Adventures, or (cue Jake) "Is that a musrhoom?"

 

Three times in two days, Jake turned to me and said, with usually a look of wonder in his eyes, “are those mushrooms?”—and with those simple words, Jake quickly got short-listed for my rooster of delightful travel companions. Especially to Greece—where a historian-by-trade comes in handy, and when a fellow mushroom enthusiast is always welcome (which must make living in Macedonia rather trying at times because the majority of mushrooms I see come in a bag—making them look even more out of place than other canned foods). (we also ate ice cream cones in Skopje while it was snowing—which probably is the Macedonian equivalent in terms of oddities—still very much worth it.)

Jake—I guess I should mention—is our resident Byzantine scholar, fellow Fulbrighter, and Floridian-in-denial (he just wrote me an e-mail saying how much he loved Skopje on gray, overcast days…hope it’s ok that that cat’s out of the bag, Jake) and we took a weekend excursion to Thessaloniki a few weekends ago. 

The first thing you see once you cross the boarder into Greece is a sign welcoming you to Macedonia. And from there on out there was some serious Macedonia-pushing (or perhaps more pertinently, claiming). And I don’t mean to offend Macedonian/Greeks/fellow humans, or get bogged down in the debate-that-never-ends-it-just-goes-on-and-on-my-friends…but it feels a little crazy.  Maybe it’s the American in me—and we have six states which are differentiated only (in title) by North-South (Carolina, Dakota) or East-West (Virginia). And that hasn’t lead to the American identity crisis of the century. (we also have states blatantly names after other places—all the “News”). And yet it’s a fight that just won’t seem to die down.

Yes—I understand that the situation in the southern Balkans is somewhat complicated by the fact that they are different countries—and that the historical legacy that they are both laying claim to is a bit more significant (on a domestic and international front) than North Dakota (not to say that North Dakota/North Dakotans don’t have legitimate history of their own). but it felt crazy to me to constantly be mindful even with the guys, (immigrants from East Africa?) who were trying push colorful woven bracelets on us—of “I work in FYROM. I work in FYROM”  even though FYROM as a title means very little to me. Or perhaps—just to be a good academic—I’ve ascribed very little meaning to the acronym FYROM (Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia).  

I think I was a little shocked because Thessaloniki doesn't look like the Greek islands (Greece looks like more than one thing?)--a lot (a lot a lot) of eight or nine story buildings, lots of right angles (windows, balconies, Greek flags), and then thrown into squares between blocks--ancient ruins.  the buildings--which differed mostly in pastely hue--definitely gave the city a strange feel, an odd uniformity. 

Thessaloniki and the White Tower

the neighborhood where we stayed was nestled up between a church/cemetery which took up a wide swath of space, and some sort of cliff, so there was really only one entrance, and even just walking in, it felt like a neighborhood, it felt like a community. the houses were a little shorter, it was quiet.

 One day, Kostas' (our host) grandmother came to visit him and brought the best homemade yogurt I've had--maybe even giving mats'oni a run for its money. and when we arrived, the only thing in Kostas' fridge was olives. 

Being Greece--other than olive oil and feta cheese (and the name issue), much of the recent information I've gotten about Greece was about the debt crisis, although I've heard that Thessaloniki wasn't hit quite as hard as Athens--so other than everything being on sale (one store even advertized "sale" in Georgian...?), lots of anarchist/communist/anti-capitalist graffiti, the only real markers of tension were the gaggles of riot-geared policemen, just (as far as I could tell) hanging out (and that many shops closed early). their presence reminded me of Belgrade during a particularly hot football match, and served as a not-so-subtle reminder of some of the broader political/economic/social tensions at play. which I guess speaks to the ways in which social strife is hidden--both in terms of economics as an issue of the "home"--and then the more general gaze of the tourist.

On Sunday morning, we ambled up to the ruined fortress on the hill above the city, looking down at the arch of Galerius, musing on how the city had changed in the past two milllennia (and how inconceivable this cityscape would be for the people who build the fortress), and then wandered into a crowded, dark church service. It must have been a special saints day--the saint of children or healing?--because parents brought their children to be blessed. churches--unlike in Macedonia--were also divided by gender. but it was so beautiful--the icons, the glinting of the gold (even if it is totally overthetop), the frescoes, faces illuminated by beeswax candles, the music. the chanting was stunning. stunning. stunning. 

Thessaloniki was also a welcome break before the semester kicks off--two days ago--although students are still trickling in. Thusfar, I've gotten a great impression from the students I have met--thoughtful, engaged--even at 8am on a Tuesday--and I'm optimistic (but really--when am I not?). but they left a great impression on me. 

However--I'm actually missing the first day of class for my Geography/Mapping course because I'm en-route to Budapest (stop one Ljubljana) to present a paper (Bosnia, home, space, return--the usual suspects). I think I'm most nervous about the mapping course because I desperately want students to connect with it, and I'm worried that it might be a tinderbox for broader issues of space/control, and that studying home may hit a little too close to home (literally, figuratively). 

Preparing for the mapping course made me feel just like I was back in college--sitting at a cafe with readings spread around me, absentmindedly sipping at coffee, vigorously underlining. every so often staring off into the distance. and the challenge not only becomes--how do I teach these concepts, but how do I teach them in an EFL context. I'm sure I've got a lot to learn.