Leslie: I've been trying to think of how to describe one of the central differences between Greece and America. Several different situations I've noticed seem connected, reflecting sociability as well as its flip side, a dislike of anonymity and demand for respect for the individual's existence and viewpoint.
The sociability is obvious in the cafe culture which dominates our commercial street. Agiou Ioannou has many cafes: basically a roof with couches underneath. They serve drinks, coffee, fresh squeezed juices (I had watermelon and Jeremiah had a mix -- like a smoothie only just juice, so thin, rather than thick with pulp), but not really food. People sit there for hours, individuals coming and going, groups camped out, often playing backgammon or card games, or just swinging worry beads and chatting. It is like a public living room (especially this newer style, with couches!). What I don't see is anyone fiddling with a phone, though I know many people have cell phones and even smartphones. They are talking, playing games, mostly in pairs or groups. People don't carry water bottles around (I wonder if that is a peculiarly American thing)... they stop and have a drink for an hour, or two, if they are thirsty and hot. Even on the road. Our bus driver yesterday insisted on both legs of the trip that we stop at a rest stop. We said, "Ok, how about 15 minutes?" He was in shock: "15 minutes! Don't you mean an hour?" I know he was serious because I've been on road trips before, and people DO sit at a rest stop, unscenic every one, for an hour. You refresh yourself with conversation as well as liquid.
It goes beyond just sociability, though. Today on the bus, I watched a Greek man, perhaps in his 50s, with two bags of groceries, approach a young woman, look her in the eye and say something about his bags. Clearly he wanted to sit in the empty seat next to her, but he didn't just look meaningfully at her and sit, the way it would happen on an American bus. He began a conversation, which she welcomed, looking him back in the eye, smiling at him and shifting over so he could sit. When someone else got up, he moved across from her, but continued the conversation, and they said goodbye affectionately when he had to get off the bus. He wasn't trying to pick her up, and I am pretty sure they hadn't known each other before. Yet they made contact and connected as human beings instead of interacting just enough (with a simple glance, a shift, a nod) to get the job done.
Flash back to yesterday, on the bus home from Delphi. Our driver kept trying to chat with us, though his fast speech meant we didn't understand so much. When he went through the tolls, he chatted to the tollkeepers, once for several minutes, even though there was traffic behind us. A week or so ago, I saw the same thing, when a truck driver blocked traffic for several minutes, with 3-4 cars behind him on a narrow road, as he chatted to a pedestrian. No one honked at him, not even once. It seems that people understand each other's need to oil the social wheels, and respect the need to finish a conversation even if it is inconvenient for those behind.
I think there is something in these interactions about insisting on respect for mutual humanity. It seems that the kind of anonymity that we have so much of in the US is alien here, maybe even offensive. In the US, we like to browse in shops with no contact, aside from maybe a hello and goodbye as we enter or leave, and then only if it is a small shop staffed by someone who looks like an owner. Here, even walking in a tourist shop, where surely the language barrier and mix of cultures means the shopkeeper understands that many cultures just like to browse silently and not interact, typically someone will come up to you and ask where you are from, how long you are here, etc. Many shopkeepers have learned several languages so they can start a conversation. It can feel in a tourist shop like an unwelcome "hard sell" (preying on mutual acknowledgement to create a sense of obligation to buy something), but I don't think that is it at all. I think the interaction itself is valuable to the shopkeeper. Of course they hope you will buy something, but when I've chatted and NOT bought something, there seems no resentment, in fact less so than if I am acting American and mutter "just browsing" as I slink out the door.
I see a connection between that insistence on interaction and respect for mutual humanity in the strikes, as well. The strikes are to me a feature of life in Greece. Over the 20 years I've been visiting Greece I've been affected by strikes every single visit. Maybe they don't happen at least several times a year every year, but it seems that way to me. The strikes, too, seem to me to be an insistence on respect for an individual's humanity and a particular perspective. A strike forces everyone to recognize the striker's position and strength of feeling -- an acknowledgement, even if one disagrees. And again, there is often sympathy for the strikers, rather than anger at the inconvenience, the way there would be in the US (which is maybe why strikes are so much rarer in the US -- they would backfire). Empathy. There seems to be more empathy in Greece than in the US.
The sociability is obvious in the cafe culture which dominates our commercial street. Agiou Ioannou has many cafes: basically a roof with couches underneath. They serve drinks, coffee, fresh squeezed juices (I had watermelon and Jeremiah had a mix -- like a smoothie only just juice, so thin, rather than thick with pulp), but not really food. People sit there for hours, individuals coming and going, groups camped out, often playing backgammon or card games, or just swinging worry beads and chatting. It is like a public living room (especially this newer style, with couches!). What I don't see is anyone fiddling with a phone, though I know many people have cell phones and even smartphones. They are talking, playing games, mostly in pairs or groups. People don't carry water bottles around (I wonder if that is a peculiarly American thing)... they stop and have a drink for an hour, or two, if they are thirsty and hot. Even on the road. Our bus driver yesterday insisted on both legs of the trip that we stop at a rest stop. We said, "Ok, how about 15 minutes?" He was in shock: "15 minutes! Don't you mean an hour?" I know he was serious because I've been on road trips before, and people DO sit at a rest stop, unscenic every one, for an hour. You refresh yourself with conversation as well as liquid.
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| Not my elbow, the three games of backgammon behind me! |
Flash back to yesterday, on the bus home from Delphi. Our driver kept trying to chat with us, though his fast speech meant we didn't understand so much. When he went through the tolls, he chatted to the tollkeepers, once for several minutes, even though there was traffic behind us. A week or so ago, I saw the same thing, when a truck driver blocked traffic for several minutes, with 3-4 cars behind him on a narrow road, as he chatted to a pedestrian. No one honked at him, not even once. It seems that people understand each other's need to oil the social wheels, and respect the need to finish a conversation even if it is inconvenient for those behind.
I think there is something in these interactions about insisting on respect for mutual humanity. It seems that the kind of anonymity that we have so much of in the US is alien here, maybe even offensive. In the US, we like to browse in shops with no contact, aside from maybe a hello and goodbye as we enter or leave, and then only if it is a small shop staffed by someone who looks like an owner. Here, even walking in a tourist shop, where surely the language barrier and mix of cultures means the shopkeeper understands that many cultures just like to browse silently and not interact, typically someone will come up to you and ask where you are from, how long you are here, etc. Many shopkeepers have learned several languages so they can start a conversation. It can feel in a tourist shop like an unwelcome "hard sell" (preying on mutual acknowledgement to create a sense of obligation to buy something), but I don't think that is it at all. I think the interaction itself is valuable to the shopkeeper. Of course they hope you will buy something, but when I've chatted and NOT bought something, there seems no resentment, in fact less so than if I am acting American and mutter "just browsing" as I slink out the door.
I see a connection between that insistence on interaction and respect for mutual humanity in the strikes, as well. The strikes are to me a feature of life in Greece. Over the 20 years I've been visiting Greece I've been affected by strikes every single visit. Maybe they don't happen at least several times a year every year, but it seems that way to me. The strikes, too, seem to me to be an insistence on respect for an individual's humanity and a particular perspective. A strike forces everyone to recognize the striker's position and strength of feeling -- an acknowledgement, even if one disagrees. And again, there is often sympathy for the strikers, rather than anger at the inconvenience, the way there would be in the US (which is maybe why strikes are so much rarer in the US -- they would backfire). Empathy. There seems to be more empathy in Greece than in the US.
Beautiful. And sad. And true. Really, empathy vs. the lack of it is what I think drives our political system. Those who are empathetic are outraged by those who are not, and vice versa. I think we've sort of had this conversation before, though. ;)
ReplyDeleteMaybe, just maybe, the lack of this kind of interaction is part of what drives Facebook for some of us. Of course there are all sorts of ways of using Fb, but the experience is quite rich for those of us who stop to "look" one another in the eye, sit down, and chat a while. If you can't get it in Publix, you can online.