Tuesday, November 17th, marked the 36th year since the Polytechnic Uprising in Greece in 1973. How do the Greeks commemorate the overthrow of the last dictatorship, death of college students who refused to leave an occupied building, and establishment of their current government? How else, than by rioting. I guess this year was a bit more tame than the past, as it was not technically a riot and is technically organized by the government; however, in years past the march has been more rowdy according to sources. The march itself takes place from the Polytechnic Institute (local university), meets in front of the Parliamentary Square, and ends at the US Embassy near my current home.

     The history of the even went something like this: students outraged at the dictatorship that had lasted for seven years and included about all the malice a dictatorial regime could, organized a sit in at the Polytechnic Institute that grew very big very quickly. Families were sending food, water, supplies, etc to the students at night, radio stations were broadcasting messages for them. In short, their sit in became a popular movement. As it progressed into an actual uprising, the military became active and moved in on the institude with troops and tanks. After an evening of killings and shootings by the military, tanks moved forward to tear down the barricades set by the students and infiltrated the building, violently taking control. Many were wounded and dead. This was not the overthrow, but a major turning point in the fight for democracy.

     At first, observing what was supposed to be a riot seemd very obsurd to me; especially, since something like a riot is not organized by the government in America - not the case here. But, as we were waiting for the marchers in between Parliamentary Square and the US Embassy, I took a seat apart from our group and the chance to observe the Greeks around me. In particular, an old man, weathered by the test of time, sat alone on a small concrete block, holding a carnation in his hand, and staring into the bare street. Perhaps he was in the Polytechnic? Maybe his friends were? Or even his sons? What would it have been like to live in Greece during this time and know your brothers, sisters, friends, sons, and daughters all held a building that was surrounded by tanks? Right: Said old man.

     By this time, the first round of protestors came forth marching and chanting something the likes of, "Brothers of the past you lead us forwards." Following them were actual members of the sit in and then groups of college students, adults, children, high schoolers, all marching behind banners, some exclaiming wrong doing on the part of the US for occupation here or there, some supporting communism, but most demanding an end to imperialism. It's pretty awkward standing on the sidewalk watching a communist flag march past you supported by thousands of people and a translator calmly stating in your ear, "They're saying end all US bases and imperialism, Americans get out, etc." But, the large majority of the supporters appeared to be there in the spirit of the events, as a nationalistic support for their fight to independence and struggle for democracy. Left: Surviving members of original march.

     The event ends at the US embassy due the the fact that the US was viewed as fascist in the 1970s by the Greeks when the march officially began. The tradition continues today. Some of our teachers described it as an Anarchist March, which was partially true, but really only a small amount of people marched behind the anarchy flag and most appeared to be older, long haired, "more free" citizens of Greece and then more alternative youth around my age. The fact that the anarchists were marching in an organized march seems contradictory and even more so that some had their Iphones out and were wearing such and such a brand. Apart from that however, it was one more "thing I wouldn't see in the US" added to my list.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 02:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

     I spent last evening in anxiety, listening to the Bell game, desperately wishing to be in my stripes, capped with my white pot, cheering on the Wabash football team. But, I was instead stuck in the stairwell of my school, listening to the live stream, watching the news ticker, and cheering on the boys from 1,000 miles away. It felt so good to hear the victory.

     Friday, I caught a bus to Nafplio, at the northern tip if the Peloponissos at about 5:30. The group of us, 8 in total, sort of went on a whim, and found ourselves staying in a budget hotel called Hotel Economou on the outer edge of town. The first night, I think we were the only ones staying in a 5 story hotel, with thin walls, vintage furniture, and an aura something like The Shining. The girls were a little freaked out. Nonetheless, we made it out to dinner at a recommended place by Dr. John Fischer which had fantastic tzatziki and helpful waiters. They serve the traditional way where you literally walk into the kitchen and look at what they have ready to prepare for the evening and point to what you want to eat. The 8 of us went from there, to the peer to have a few drinks before heading to some bars. I think we made our way in about 3 in the morning and all crammed into 3.5 twin beds (thats 8 people), because the girls felt that uncomfortable. It was a blast though, one of those nights that epitomizes traveling Europe with friends. Running around til the early hours of morning, cramming into budget accomodations, and laughing about it all the next morning. Right: Street in Nafplio

     Nafplio is a beautiful neoclassical city that maintained its Italian character after the occupation of the Venetians. There is this fantastic castle, even better than Corinth, atop a hill there, 999 steps up (actually some desrepancy here), which has wonderful views. It actually was in existence until the late 1700's because no one could conquer it. We probably spent about 3 hours up there; and yes, I ran around the top again like a little kid on a play ground. From there, we took a walk to the beach to watch the sun set. Above: Looking out at the city from the castle steps.

     It was all in all a great time, theres something to be said about spontaneity, and I would encourage anyone reading this to take a weekend sometime and just do whatever. Catch a midday bus to a city, find a budget hotel, stay out all night, then hike around all day and end it watching the sun set. I know it sounds crazy, but those have been my favorite days, the ones where I just roll with the punches, see where the day takes me, and really enjoy life. I often think back on my motives for studying abroad and how much I just wanted a break - almost like a therapeutic vacation. Thus far, it's been so much that and more. With 36 days left to my return, I look forward to returning, standing just above that giant W on the Allen Center floor, and saluting that red-handled bell, but am still having the time of my life here.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 07:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

     This week has been slow, I've ate a lot, slept a lot, and been pretty sore - but still pretty proud of having completed the original marathon. Everyone keeps asking when I'll do my next, if I'll do another. I suppose I will, just unsure of when or where. Not next semester though, maybe next fall at the very earliest.

     Last Friday, I'm not sure if I mentioned it or not, but I volunteered at a local healthcare clinic, a part of the associaion Doctors of the World, which is centered on providing healthcare to the underpriveleged. In Athens, this means refugees. My first day was one of the most thrilling experiences I've had. It was the first time I've been involved on the doctor side of the clinical setting. I still remember my first patient and how different it felt to have a woman asking for me to help her feel better. A certain amount of doubt ensues a moment like that, it's like the first day on a job and no matter how much training you've gone through, it is still going to take a while to adapt. The afternoon moved on fine, I grew more comfortable and confident, and gradually the doctors allowed me to do more. By the end of the first day, they had me taking blood pressure, temperature, and bandaging minor wounds. I had only planned on staying a couple of hours but was there for 7 hours the first day. Left: A view across the street from the clinic window - its a pretty rough neighborhood.

     I went back today, and had a very similar experience. Within the first hour, I had taken stitches out of a mans face and anotheres hand, cared for and bandaged a leg wound, and taken another mans blood pressure. It's exhilarating working in an environment like that. The clinic is pretty small and obviously needing supplies, but nonetheless, fully functioning. The rufugees and the story behind them is very interesting. Greece is in the middle of some political changes and currently has a pretty narrowminded attitude towards refugees (borderline racism). Because of this, the government will not issue passports to even the children born of refugees in Greece. It's a terrible situation that leads to lots of people not being able to get the most basic of healthcare practices such as bandaging open wounds. Today for instance, although it is possible the hospital was really that busy, the clinic waited nearly 4 hours for an ambulance to take a man to the ER. The refugees mostly speak a slavic language with little to no Greek or English leaving a huge language barrier and often times a lot unsaid. Right: In the Greek Parliament.

     As long as they keep allowing me to come back, I'll keep going. I was working hands on with a surgeon today and probably doing things I never would be allowed to do in the states. It has been a great introduction to medicine for me and thus far inspiring to know I have pursued a career in this field. I also went to Greek Parliament today which was interesting and neat to see as well as informative. It's pretty crazy thinking that the Greek government has only been stable for about 35 years now.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 03:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

     Well, I did it. Exactly 3 Hours 46 Minutes and 16 Seconds after the start, I made it across the finish line to add my name to the official register for the 2009 Athens Classic Marathon. I cannot begin to describe the feeling of elation that came with the completion of this marathon.

    I slept poorly last night, mostly because of excitement, maybe a little due to watching a movie about Prefontaine, and perhaps a lot becuase I had spent the last 9 months preparing for this one race. This morning, I awoke at 5, ate and all that, before walking out the front door and stepping straight into a puddle. It was a rainy first hour and a half of the race. I was strong through the first half nonetheless, about 20 minutes stronger through the first 20km than the second. Which, as you can imagine, led to a very long, and mentally taxing last 20 km. Right: Just before the finish.

     I may be too tired now to really elaborate how I feel but first, it was hell. That was by far the hardest physical beating I've put on my body, but one of the most rewarding. My feet were sogging, my legs were cramping for the last 15 km, I was dehydrated, and exhausted, but never stopped running and didn't take a single walking step, even through the pit stops. To a lot of people, physical activity, especially extreme physical activity seems pointless. But to those who gain an affinity for it, they usually learn from it. After you've run 26 miles, staying up to study for chem just doesn't seem as bad, and neither does sleep deprivation. Its all a part of pushing your limit. Another aspect is climbing hills. A person can easily stay on flat ground and move around an obstacle never tackling the larger questions of life, but the truly happy are the ones who run up the mountain only to find an easy descent on the backside. Do I even need to allude to Wabash here? Left: The middle of the marathon

     As I look back at my study abroad exerience, I've put together quite a portfolio. I've walked where philosophers once walked, and now run where warriors once ran (this was the original marathon afterall - do your research on the battle of marathon). I've seen art, ancient temples, and more pottery than I ever could have fathomed. I miss home very much, as you can imagine 16 weeks away from your family is a long time, but wouln't trade this experience for anything. I'd be lying if I didn't say at one or two points during the marathon the phrase, "Wabash Always Fights," flashed through my head; and of course, I wore my Wabash red sleeveless top.

Pictures to come as soon as I get them from those who took them.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 04:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

     3 Days and 15 Hours from now, I'll be on the starting line for the Marathon race, beginning in Marathon, and ending in the reconstruction of the ancient Olympic stadium in the Athenian City Center. I've been training for this since the Monday after Spring Break and am so antsy it pains me to be sitting here typing. I've been on a two week "taper" now and am feeling strong, healthy, and ready to go. It's kind of an interesting feeling though unlike anything I've ever prepared for because, for instance, in track, if I ran the 400, I practiced running the 400, the same with swimming events. But, the marathon training I did capstoned with a 20 mile run, a whole 26 miles less than what I'll be doing on Sunday. I think it just makes it all the more exciting.

     This week has been pretty low key. Lots of pasta and relaxing, along with mental preparing. I'm getting better at Latin. It's been neat to translate Cicero - I'm not doing any big literary works, but paragraphs; however, they're getting bigger and more complex. Above: The entrance to the Roman Agora in Athens made to resemble the Parthenon, however, the Romans apparently are bad at following ratios.

     I have decided to put together my own Monon Bell tailgate in Athens for some of the students here to share a little bit of that Wabash pride with them. It should be fun. I was hoping to find some scrap wood and all to maybe assemble some corn hole sets, but we'll see how that goes. I can feel the excitement building from here.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 10:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

     After Oxi Day, two friends and I took the incentive to plan out a trip to nearby Mount Olympos and then succeeded in convincing the program director to allow us to go to the park. We caught a 8:08 train to the nearby town of Litohorio which was loaded with friendly elderly people. After a few mix ups, we found ourselves 4 kilometers in on a 18 kilometer road to our destination, attempting to hitch hike. I don't know why, but hitchhiking seems less dangerous in a park. After several failed attempts, we made the girl with us attempt to signal a car and voila! we got a ride to a monastery up into the mountains. The guy who gave us a ride was actually a guide for the mountain, very friendly, and spoke some english (enough to make a few jokes about how tall my buddy was and advise us on the trails). We spent some time at the monastery, which interestingly enough was destroyed during the Nazi occupation and rebuilt, ate some peanut butter and jellys, and hit the trail. Right: View of Mount Olympos and the Throne of Zeus from town.

     Try to imagine hiking through a gourge, looking up at rolling mountains with steep cliffs on their faces holding trees with the most beautiful shade of oranish red leaves, the clearest river that appears grey due to the rocks on the bottom showing through, and, the trump card, the overwhelming peak straight ahead, the throne of Zeus glaring down upon us. It was a beautiful afternoon. I spent a lot of time on our roughly 14 mile hike reflecting on what it would have meant to be in this valley as a Greek citizen during the age of mythology. I tried to compare it with visiting the Vatican back in Rome. Would the pilgrim be overcome with awe and a desire to praise the gods? What would be learned by traveling amongst these mountains? Were these mountains so sacred that no mortal were allowed to traverse them? I always find myself reflecting on my life during long hikes and musing the mysteries of life. I thought back to what I would be doing if I were at Wabash around 9AM on a Wednesday afternoon, weighed the pros and cons of being a doctor, and even had some very "Wabash Friday evening conversation" about being successful vs. being happy. Once we made it back to town and onto the train, an hour flew by, and I awoke to see the other two sleeping and Thessaloniki only 5 minutes away. Left: a view of the fall leaves (dearly missed from IN) from the monastery. Right: Clear water scene in the park

     Friday only added to the trip. We started off with a trip to Pella, near Macedonia, which was a bit of a bust, mostly because of the sights we have seen thus far, before heading to the school of Aristotle in Macedonia. Grey skies and a somber chill in the air, I arrived with a bit of curiousity regarding the site. My philosophy professor gave an awe-inspiring talk that rivaled a Wabash chapel talk and sent me craving to learn. He spoke of Plato's claiming, "Man has an apetite for learning," and finished with the claim without this school, the world as we know it would not exist. I stood in the cave where Alexander the Great was educated. I walked the foot paths some of the most brilliant thinkers the world has ever seen wore. It occurred to me also that the philosophers of this time were so much more than philosophers, but more "Liberal Artists" who had mastered so many areas of study it was unreal. It had me craving for knowledge and wishing I could complete every major Wabash had to offer. Above Left: The site of Aristotle's school and the little cave like thing to the left of the picture is the cave in which Aristotle taught Alexander

     From there, we visited Vergina, the site of Philip II and Alexander's graves. It was simply neat to be standing staring at the closed doors behind which possible the most charismatic leader of all time was buried. I'll leave it at that. It was a day that inspired me to want to learn more and realize how little I already know. Right: Alexanders Tomb

     Bear with me, I know this is a long one. Saturday, we woke up and went to a war memorial. Maybe it was simply the mood I was in, but I loved this site. We had about a 70 year old Serbian tour guide show us around the site and explain the burial customs and how the Serbians not only drank with the dead, but visited with them. By drink, I mean they would take a shot glass of some Serbian liquor, pour some on the ground, since the dead drink first, and then drink the rest before visiting the burial sites. It was a pretty cool monument and dedicated mostly to World War I veterans and victims. Combined with the day before, I was shot into a reflection on death and really was struck by this site. I had an immersion learning experience; I can tell you 8,000 Serbians died on this site in World War I. You can imagine how many that was and yadda yadda. Then I can show you a picture, but until you're standing in a field of 8,000 white crosses commemorating those lives, you don't understand. Left: The Serbian Monument

     The weekend really came together for me, we got a good taste of Greek pride from World War I to now and a good understanding of it too. I know for a fact, had we sat in a classroom for a week and tried to learn all that we saw, it would not have "stuck" in my head, nor would I have really grasped it without visiting these sites.

Posted by Jake Ezell at 09:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)