Are You Married?

How about What's your name? or How old are you? or Where are you from? Nope. Are you married?

That was the first question I got from a Greek student.

Today was the first day of the 2010-2011 school year at Athens College. Being surrounded by new people and a new culture, etc. while in a very familiar contextual setting inevitably got me started making observations. Thus, this entry will be a bit of an anthropological nature.

Some things are going to be the same no matter where you go or who you go there with. For example, "classroom roles" are obvious and archetypal. It took me all of twelve seconds to figure out who the smarty-pants was, who the class clown was, who the over achiever was, and who the shy one was. I did not have to speak Greek to figure that out. No matter what, girls are always going to squeal and run-slam-hug each other on the first day of school, and boys are always going to gallop full speed to be the first in the lunch line. It's always going to matter who has the coolest clothes in high school, and middle schoolers are just always going to be delightfully awkward. Boys are going to tickle girls while the principal is speaking, girls are going to pretend to hate it, and a teacher is going to separate them. Some things about us are informed by our environment, upbringing, or cultural background; some are informed by just being humans who are growing up.

That being said, here is a list of a few things that happen, as far as my experience tells me, at Greek schools and in the general Greek culture that were all kinds of crazy new to me:

1) First, The Agiasmos, or "The Blessing"-- Having once before lived in a place where religion is more part of a culture than simply an exercise of beliefs (that place being Italy and Roman Catholicism), necessarily, it shouldn't have been quite so shocking that the school year starts off with a traditional Greek Orthodox prayer service on the steps of the school. But my American-Separation-of-Church-and-State mentality somehow still kicked in, and I found myself thinking, "How can they get away with this?" but like I said, whether or not *everyone* in the crowd goes to church weekly or observes every religious holiday, Greek Orthodox is the culture here, and that's all there is to it. Now, this was my first exposure to the Greek Orthodox faith-- save for when I ran into that church the other day-- and it was fascinating and beautiful. There were obvious similarities to my Roman Catholic upbringing but also significant differences. The prayer was conducted almost exclusively in chant/song but with many more lilts and trills in the voice than in a Catholic chant. At important moments, the crowd would make the sign of the cross, which is a gesture I thought I was familiar with, but they do it "backwards" from the Catholic way, and they make the sign in what appeared to be a series of 20 repetitions at a time. Anyone out there with Greek Orthodox background (Ali? Alice?) who can shed some light on this next part of the ceremony would be greatly appreciated, as I am baffled: One of the officiants held up some sort of green plant and kind of shook it at the crowd.

2) Classroom structure-- School here is like a game of Psychiatrist (you're welcome, Jillian). EVERYONE moves. Students, teachers, schedules. The bell rings, and literally everyone scatters like roaches. This makes it very difficult to find where you are supposed to be next and also difficult to locate any particular teacher.

3) Patriarchal society-- It's definitely a man's world over here. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked about my dad's name, and I've had to write it on every document I've come across (Last Name, First Name, Father's First Name). I got a class roster today that included every student's father's name next to their own. In case you were wondering, Dad, the Greek equivalent of your name is Dimitry.

4) Public displays of affection-- This is absolutely akin to my experience in Italy, no question. Ain't no thang. PDA is allowed/encouraged/ignored, whatever. At school, in front of Parliament, on the bus-- it's all fair territory. Feel like placing your hand on your girlfriend's tooshie on the tram and just leaving it there? Tha's coo.

5) Talk to the hand-- The first thing I always want to know when I enter a foreign land is what hand gestures are viewed as offensive so as to avoid accidently sending the wrong message to my new co-inhabitants. For example, in England you have to be careful throwing up a "peace" sign, and it would behoove you to avoid telling any Italians to "rock on." In Greece, the no-no gesture is an open palm. You have no idea how difficult this is to avoid until you start becoming conscious of it. On the rare occasion that someone in a car lets you pass in front of them (haha I just made myself laugh with that one), what do you do? You kind of half wave, right? Well, here that is like you saying, "You're letting me cross? Well, poopy on your family, friends, country, and self!" Obviously they are going to step on it after that one. You'd try to run someone over too if they said, 'Poopy on your family!" One of the other teaching fellows advised us about this gesture around our students: "You're going to want to be cool with the kids, " he said, "and, ya know, give them a high five every once in a while. Well, maybe don't do that. Maybe go for the low-five instead." I cannot tell you how many times so far I have accidently given the "half wave" to a store clerk or cafe owner and immediately turned beet red realizing that I have just cursed the person who gave me a smile and a warm loaf of bread. I'm telling you, it's hard to stop! It's an issue. I'm trying to get into the habit of the two finger flick (like a sloppy "K" in sign language). I love you, Greece! I swear I am not poopy-ing on anyone's family!

And everyone wants to know if you're married.