I was in Greece about 2 and 1/2 months ago.
I can't believe it was that recent - a life of hostels, delicious seafood and ancient ruins seems so completely different from my current reality.
As I type this I'm sitting in the kitchen, where my roommate is playing cards with four little Dominican girls from the neighborhood, while one of their mothers is cooking lunch for our visiting volunteers.
My life consists of Haitian children, lots of them - breaking up their fights, blowing on their booboos, holding them in my lap, attempting to teach them some math.
My life is hot, sweaty, and smells like cooking empanadas,
so very far from the cool ocean breezes of the Greek islands.
But I really was there, because I distinctly remember the acute embarrassment of
arriving in Athens to realize we had no euros (only Turkish lira and Georgian lari) and there was no money changer within walking distance of our bus stop
and we stood around looking and feeling very foolish
until we were rescued by a nice Greek couple who walked us to the bus
and generously gave us some euros and probably walked away wandering
why Americans can't plan well.
After that Dickens-length sentence, some photos of Greece!
Oh hey Acropolis! Just wanted to drop by with my shaggy hair
and Christmas scarf from Kurdistan!
The Parthenon felt unreal - was I actually seeing this?
I think I was.
View of Athens (and Jamie!)
We like ruins
and cool murals
I remember being so happy on the ferry ride to the islands.
I think the amazing cup of coffee I was sipping on had a lot to do with it.
A sunset on Santorini!
The island was mostly abandoned because of the season,
which was sometimes nice and sometimes creepy.
Que bonita!
Then a water spout almost sucked up this couple!
(Not really but it could have!)
A seafood lunch
View from our second hostel in Athens, where we returned for New Years Eve
I loved this cool lamp street!
We took an overnight ferry back from Santorini, spent New Years Eve out on the town, on New Years day I got on a bus for 15 hours, a second bus in Istanbul for 27,
slept a night in Tbilisi and then took three planes to get home.
By the 2nd plane, I was hallucinating due to my sleepless state and aching bum.
But what can you do? The price of being a cash-strapped traveler.
When I am an rich old woman I will return to Turkey and Greece and eat expensive meals and stay in nice hotels and take First Class plane rides.
But at least the cheap way makes for some great stories -
or at least a great way to shut down the kid that complains of their flight to France.
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