When I was about to go back to Athens up to a few years ago, I always felt a great sense of relief, one that usually accompanies anyone returning to their homeland. This feeling of a weight being lifted and of a deep relaxation emerging, was a very welcoming state to be in for me, especially after having spent a whole winter away. Athens is a very big, overcrowded and noisy city, but it had always felt like one of the most hospitable places to be and that was mainly down to the attitude of its inhabitants. Very few people actually originate from Athens itself, (it is said the families could be counted on the fingers of one hand), most people having come to it from villages, islands, as refugees and ex-patriots, but everyone without fail who lives in Athens is proud to do so and claims to originate from Athens. The attitude of the people of Athens to bend backwards to help and accommodate anyone at any given time was often so overwhelming, that Athenians have been said to still carry some traits of their slavery status remaining from the days of the Ottoman Empire.
The people of Athens were unbelievably genuine, and in their openness made one feel very at home, whether they were a local or a visitor. I remember the fish mongers telling my Grandmother who asked for the sea-bass, "Don't take the sea-bass today Mrs, it's not as fresh as the sole, buy that instead, it's the best catch today". Then at the restaurant they would say, "Moussaka was cooked yesterday but the pastitsio was cooked this morning, so go with that, it will be best". That might not be the best way of making business, but it was the best way to make anyone feel very safe, taken care of and valued and it was a great place to grow up. Every single neighborhood had a vibrant, distinctive and caring pulse of its own and all together they surrounded protectively the centre of Athens, the main heart of it with the Acropolis, Monastiraki and Plaka, the old jewels and pride and joy of the city and of its inhabitants.
I was always very proud of the youngsters and of children in Athens too, who had an inbred and natural respect for their elders, and particularly for the growing number of elderly Athenian inhabitants, who have always constituted a large percentage of the population. Children would naturally get up and offer a seat on the bus for example to an elderly passenger and that would happen almost by default, without a please or a thank you, because that was how it was and there was never any other way. Elderly people had priority for everything, to the extend that the city seemed to belong to them and to children. They could jump long taxi queues, make the bus stop wherever they wanted it to and get anyone to carry anything for them every time they went out shopping. The children too were kings, as children are almost everywhere in Greece, and they could eat with the adults, sleep when the adults did and go to the cinema, to the cafes and to the theatre at all inappropriate times, as the adults did. The combination of an elderly person caring for a child and seen accompanying one in Athens, was a passport to all heavenly things and privileged treatment, and my Grandmother and I were definitely at the receiving end of it for all our years together. Athens was a great big playground, where you felt very deeply that you were part of your neighborhood -and thus part of the city- and that as far as it was within anyone's capability who lived there, you were taken care of as best as possible.
The incident that always jumps to my mind to describe the spirit of Athens when I was growing up, happened to me and my mother in 1987. My mother had got us tickets to go to the prestigious and state of the art at the time, Peace and Friendship Stadium in Piraeus, to watch a performance of dancing on ice. We had been waiting like mad for that night, because it was going to be the first time we went into the stadium and the first time we ever saw dancing on ice close up. We got a taxi from our house and chatted with the driver all the way there, as people did with taxi drivers in Athens. But when we arrived there, my mother realised to her horror that she had forgotten her purse. The tickets were loose in her bag, but her purse was not there. I remember how red she got on the face and how embarrassed she was and I think my face just dropped at the prospect that we had to go all the way back with the taxi to pay him and subsequently miss the performance. The taxi driver gave us enough money to get back with another taxi and enough money for treats for the interval and for an emergency. My mother was so happy, her eyes were watering. She gave the taxi driver her work address and phone number and the taxi driver collected his money and fare a week later. And the performance was the most magical one I had seen as a child.
But the last few years, every time I returned to Athens, I noticed a considerable change upon its inhabitants' behaviour. In the beginning I thought I was just witnessing one-off events, but as the time went by I started to observe an overall pattern emerging. People seemed very tense, on edge and deeply unsettled. There were sharp and abrupt conversations in the streets, fights being started out of nothing and offense been taken by mere misunderstandings. People were ready to attack like tightly wound up springs. The saddest to me occurrence, was amongst elderly people in buses, who in their deep panic and despair, raised their voices and shouted at youngsters for not been acknowledged and helped, before the youngsters had even had a chance to put one foot on the bus. After their outburst and receipt of attention, they would proceed to lower their heads and mumble something with shaking limbs, sat bent on their reserved seats. This type of behaviour had no doubt been building up during my absence, gradually, but as I was only observing it annually or so, it appeared to me as if it happened overnight, so that the whole city was turning into an arena of desperate and wounded dogs, fighting each other with growling teeth, while their tails hid and legs trembled.
The strains and the financial circumstances that had been affecting Athenias and later all Greeks for years, had finally reached a point where they manifested themselves in people's everyday behaviour. And when that occurs it no doubt means that the situation has reached a point where something will have to happen, one way or another. So now I had found myself in the unnerving position of watching every single person I came across outside, to see signs of their state of mind, looking them in the eye, but not for too long in case I provoked a reaction, as if they were fish to be bought, trying to tell whether they were safe or starting to rot and prone to snap at any given opportunity. My fellow Athenians from my childhood had now become an experiment, people-guinea pigs, fish in a bowl, while the world observed to see how long they would last and the way they would decline into nothingness or led to cannibalism. In my shame that I found myself on the outside of the bowl, I started to avoid looking anyone in the eye, and rather rushed around the city streets spasmodically, bumping into people and mumbling something when they cursed, pretending I was one of them once again.
But the last couple of times I went back to Athens the outburst that I had been expecting had not happened. The people had not exploded and there was no revolution in sight. Instead an even more eerie atmosphere lurked about the streets. The fighting and anger had ceased; the snapping and nudging had eased; now there was an air of total abandonment, of surrender, of defeat and catatonia. Everything was uncharacteristically quiet in the streets, the people that were there dragged their feet slowly, they all looked down and they avoided talking altogether. Hidden between the hollows and darkness of empty shops and buildings, the shadows of the former Athenians moved and breathed almost invisibly, just like they were pushed into invisibility at the back of the world news. Was this the quietness and calmness before a storm? Or is this the permanent state of people who have endured such a prolonged financial leeching and morale bashing? This comatose state of anemia was even more unbearable for me to witness than the fighting had been, making my selfish guilt rise even higher and making me unable to even search anymore for the watering eyes of the elderly to look into.
I have chosen the word Ψάρι (Psari), meaning Fish, for the letter Psi,Ψ, for the Greek alphabet we are making with Aretousa. It is a short and easy word for a child to learn, but fish has also another name in Greek, the ancient Greek name of Ιχθύς (Ichthus). It is very common in the modern Greek language to see some ancient words slowly been phased out, like Ιχθύς being replaced by Ψάρι, while they are still present in composite words, such as Ιχθυοπωλείο, literally Fishshop. Sometimes it is very obvious where the newer word originates from, but many times it is a mystery. The word Ψάρι in this case has no etymological connection to the word Ιχθύς, so the roots of the words are not related. But a little research into the matter of how it came about that the newer word was created, leads us to the Byzantine times and to fish street sellers who were wandering around calling out their catch. The fish street sellers called out Ιχθύς Οψάριος, Ichthus Opsarios, (Οψάριος being the participle of the future tense of the irregular ancient verb Ορώ, meaning to see). This participle does not exist in the English language, but it more or less meant Fish to be seen, or Fish for viewing, or Fish going to be seen. As the day drew to an end and the fish sellers got tired of shouting, they would only now shout the last bit of the phrase, ...Οψάριος, ...to be seen, and then even abbreviate that further, so that now the only bit of the phrase that reached people's ears from the fish sellers was ....ψάρι....So just a bit from the phrase Ιχθύς Οψάριος, Fish to be seen. And so a word was created for fish without it actually meaning fish at all.
This is the kind of transformation that I believe in my wild dreams would save the Greeks from their situation; a complete transformation of the state of affairs, a reinvention of their status, so that they are still who they were in essence, but they now have a totally renewed attitude towards their problems and are able to finally assert the dormant control and power over their internal issues and over those issues that have been imposed and created by years of foreign intervention.
The people of Athens were unbelievably genuine, and in their openness made one feel very at home, whether they were a local or a visitor. I remember the fish mongers telling my Grandmother who asked for the sea-bass, "Don't take the sea-bass today Mrs, it's not as fresh as the sole, buy that instead, it's the best catch today". Then at the restaurant they would say, "Moussaka was cooked yesterday but the pastitsio was cooked this morning, so go with that, it will be best". That might not be the best way of making business, but it was the best way to make anyone feel very safe, taken care of and valued and it was a great place to grow up. Every single neighborhood had a vibrant, distinctive and caring pulse of its own and all together they surrounded protectively the centre of Athens, the main heart of it with the Acropolis, Monastiraki and Plaka, the old jewels and pride and joy of the city and of its inhabitants.
I was always very proud of the youngsters and of children in Athens too, who had an inbred and natural respect for their elders, and particularly for the growing number of elderly Athenian inhabitants, who have always constituted a large percentage of the population. Children would naturally get up and offer a seat on the bus for example to an elderly passenger and that would happen almost by default, without a please or a thank you, because that was how it was and there was never any other way. Elderly people had priority for everything, to the extend that the city seemed to belong to them and to children. They could jump long taxi queues, make the bus stop wherever they wanted it to and get anyone to carry anything for them every time they went out shopping. The children too were kings, as children are almost everywhere in Greece, and they could eat with the adults, sleep when the adults did and go to the cinema, to the cafes and to the theatre at all inappropriate times, as the adults did. The combination of an elderly person caring for a child and seen accompanying one in Athens, was a passport to all heavenly things and privileged treatment, and my Grandmother and I were definitely at the receiving end of it for all our years together. Athens was a great big playground, where you felt very deeply that you were part of your neighborhood -and thus part of the city- and that as far as it was within anyone's capability who lived there, you were taken care of as best as possible.
The incident that always jumps to my mind to describe the spirit of Athens when I was growing up, happened to me and my mother in 1987. My mother had got us tickets to go to the prestigious and state of the art at the time, Peace and Friendship Stadium in Piraeus, to watch a performance of dancing on ice. We had been waiting like mad for that night, because it was going to be the first time we went into the stadium and the first time we ever saw dancing on ice close up. We got a taxi from our house and chatted with the driver all the way there, as people did with taxi drivers in Athens. But when we arrived there, my mother realised to her horror that she had forgotten her purse. The tickets were loose in her bag, but her purse was not there. I remember how red she got on the face and how embarrassed she was and I think my face just dropped at the prospect that we had to go all the way back with the taxi to pay him and subsequently miss the performance. The taxi driver gave us enough money to get back with another taxi and enough money for treats for the interval and for an emergency. My mother was so happy, her eyes were watering. She gave the taxi driver her work address and phone number and the taxi driver collected his money and fare a week later. And the performance was the most magical one I had seen as a child.
But the last few years, every time I returned to Athens, I noticed a considerable change upon its inhabitants' behaviour. In the beginning I thought I was just witnessing one-off events, but as the time went by I started to observe an overall pattern emerging. People seemed very tense, on edge and deeply unsettled. There were sharp and abrupt conversations in the streets, fights being started out of nothing and offense been taken by mere misunderstandings. People were ready to attack like tightly wound up springs. The saddest to me occurrence, was amongst elderly people in buses, who in their deep panic and despair, raised their voices and shouted at youngsters for not been acknowledged and helped, before the youngsters had even had a chance to put one foot on the bus. After their outburst and receipt of attention, they would proceed to lower their heads and mumble something with shaking limbs, sat bent on their reserved seats. This type of behaviour had no doubt been building up during my absence, gradually, but as I was only observing it annually or so, it appeared to me as if it happened overnight, so that the whole city was turning into an arena of desperate and wounded dogs, fighting each other with growling teeth, while their tails hid and legs trembled.
The strains and the financial circumstances that had been affecting Athenias and later all Greeks for years, had finally reached a point where they manifested themselves in people's everyday behaviour. And when that occurs it no doubt means that the situation has reached a point where something will have to happen, one way or another. So now I had found myself in the unnerving position of watching every single person I came across outside, to see signs of their state of mind, looking them in the eye, but not for too long in case I provoked a reaction, as if they were fish to be bought, trying to tell whether they were safe or starting to rot and prone to snap at any given opportunity. My fellow Athenians from my childhood had now become an experiment, people-guinea pigs, fish in a bowl, while the world observed to see how long they would last and the way they would decline into nothingness or led to cannibalism. In my shame that I found myself on the outside of the bowl, I started to avoid looking anyone in the eye, and rather rushed around the city streets spasmodically, bumping into people and mumbling something when they cursed, pretending I was one of them once again.
But the last couple of times I went back to Athens the outburst that I had been expecting had not happened. The people had not exploded and there was no revolution in sight. Instead an even more eerie atmosphere lurked about the streets. The fighting and anger had ceased; the snapping and nudging had eased; now there was an air of total abandonment, of surrender, of defeat and catatonia. Everything was uncharacteristically quiet in the streets, the people that were there dragged their feet slowly, they all looked down and they avoided talking altogether. Hidden between the hollows and darkness of empty shops and buildings, the shadows of the former Athenians moved and breathed almost invisibly, just like they were pushed into invisibility at the back of the world news. Was this the quietness and calmness before a storm? Or is this the permanent state of people who have endured such a prolonged financial leeching and morale bashing? This comatose state of anemia was even more unbearable for me to witness than the fighting had been, making my selfish guilt rise even higher and making me unable to even search anymore for the watering eyes of the elderly to look into.
I have chosen the word Ψάρι (Psari), meaning Fish, for the letter Psi,Ψ, for the Greek alphabet we are making with Aretousa. It is a short and easy word for a child to learn, but fish has also another name in Greek, the ancient Greek name of Ιχθύς (Ichthus). It is very common in the modern Greek language to see some ancient words slowly been phased out, like Ιχθύς being replaced by Ψάρι, while they are still present in composite words, such as Ιχθυοπωλείο, literally Fishshop. Sometimes it is very obvious where the newer word originates from, but many times it is a mystery. The word Ψάρι in this case has no etymological connection to the word Ιχθύς, so the roots of the words are not related. But a little research into the matter of how it came about that the newer word was created, leads us to the Byzantine times and to fish street sellers who were wandering around calling out their catch. The fish street sellers called out Ιχθύς Οψάριος, Ichthus Opsarios, (Οψάριος being the participle of the future tense of the irregular ancient verb Ορώ, meaning to see). This participle does not exist in the English language, but it more or less meant Fish to be seen, or Fish for viewing, or Fish going to be seen. As the day drew to an end and the fish sellers got tired of shouting, they would only now shout the last bit of the phrase, ...Οψάριος, ...to be seen, and then even abbreviate that further, so that now the only bit of the phrase that reached people's ears from the fish sellers was ....ψάρι....So just a bit from the phrase Ιχθύς Οψάριος, Fish to be seen. And so a word was created for fish without it actually meaning fish at all.
This is the kind of transformation that I believe in my wild dreams would save the Greeks from their situation; a complete transformation of the state of affairs, a reinvention of their status, so that they are still who they were in essence, but they now have a totally renewed attitude towards their problems and are able to finally assert the dormant control and power over their internal issues and over those issues that have been imposed and created by years of foreign intervention.
For Greek speaking readers refer to the short video below for an explanation of the creation of the word Ψάρι. (Non Greek speaking readers will also be able to get the gist of the video, as it uses visual aids and my explanation above is based on it).
