I think the Greeks are more excited than we Americans are to have Obama as our next president.  That may be a lie… we were pretty psyched at Arcadia at 6:00am on Wednesday when Tuesday’s election results came in.  Jessica and I had figured out about an hour before that Obama had probably run because with the 55 electoral votes from California and the 11 in Washington (both my and Jessica’s states respectively), he would have the necessary electorals to nab the presidency.  It was a pretty emotional scene, probably because we were all sleep-deprived, having gotten up at 3am to watch the results come in real-time and partly because it was just such an emotional event.  I admit, I even started getting teary when Obama started speaking and you could see everyone in Chicago crowded around to see him.  I was Skyping with my mom at the time, too, which was kind of neat.  I felt bad for not being at CMC, but it was still a memorable experience.  It’ll be one of those things in which people will say, “Where were you the night Obama got elected president?” and everyone will remember exactly where they were and what they were doing.  Well, I was in Athens Greece, celebrating with fruit salad and victory pancakes made for us by one of the girls on the program.

The rest of the day, however, though I was on a an Obama-high, I anxiously checked over and over again for results on Proposition 8 in California, the proposition that would ban gay marriage for good.  I was distraught when it passed… I started crying.  Really.  I literally sat down and put my head between my hands and cried.  I feel kind of ridiculous, actually.  I mean, yes I was deeply invested in it not passing, but compared to others out there, it’s not like it directly affects me and my life.  Maybe I was tired?  Maybe I was thinking of friends and others who would be directly affected?  In any case, my sadness soon turned into anger and all day long Jessica and I were ranting and raving about it (Jay-Z goes to school in California, so she’s politically aware of happenings in both her home state of Washington and California).  I say Supreme Court or bust, Prop 8!

In other news, my transition to vegetarianism is on the upswing.  Seriously, I just don’t really eat meat that much anymore.  I stopped eating turkey sandwiches long ago (turkey deli meat here is truly sub-par… it’s the one food in Greece that really can’t stand up to America’s version) and have started noshing on Greek salads and sesame-seed bread rings (which I discovered the other day are known as “koulouria”) for lunch.  Dinner is often meatless, too.  Lots of vegetables, salads, cheese, rice, bread… meat, not so much.  I did have some fish at the beginning of the week and Tuesday night I had a little bit of chicken (I didn’t prepare Tuesday’s dinner, though, seeing as it was an Eftichidou 16 dinner party), but mainly I’ve been living off cheese.  And I can’t tell whether I feel better or worse because of the radical cut in protein.

I think my favorite Greek dishes so far would have to be χωριάτικη σαλάτα (Greek salad, prounounced ‘whore-ee-ah-tee-kee sal-ah-ta’), κουκκιά (mashed fava lentils with olive oil, lemon and onions), dolmades (rice-stuffed grape vine leaves), and really, nothing beats a good skewer of chicken souvlaki.  I’m not a fan of gyros, but I really enjoy the meat in kebab form.  I’m not such a big fan of Greek desserts, though I have enjoyed baklava whenever I eat it (which is rare), but we have discovered this bakery above our grocery store that makes “the chocolate cake that changes lives” as we Arcadia folk have come to call it.  I have been told about said chocolate cake since my birthday and finally had my first taste of it at the beginning of the week.  It changed my life.  As one of my roommates said, “How can you exist knowing that something like this is out there?”

I am becoming more reflective, more nostalgic for home, and becoming pre-maturely nostalgic for the end of Greece.  I know I still have a month and a week or two left, but it feels so short.  And with my mom’s 10-day visit breaking up the time, it seems really short.  I’m going to miss it here… I’m going to miss the people, the food, the 3-hour coffee sessions.  I can’t wait to come home and be back at CMC with my friends and taking classes with professors I know and love, but still… this is kind of a hard life to give up.

And I don’t know how you can possible explain to someone something like this.  I really don’t know how you can put it into words.  Pictures hardly do it justice… sure I have these awesome photographs of temples and ruins and my friends and I acting like dorks at Arcadia, but no one will ever truly be able to “get it” (if that makes sense?).  I can show my mom around Athens and share parts of my daily life with her, but it’s not like she will have been here the entire time living and feeling everything with me.  I just don’t know how I’m supposed to remember this – and on top of that, try and convey it to friends and family.  You just can’t.  You really can’t.

I think I have Greece in my skin, now.  I don’t think I will ever be able to get rid of it.  Already I’m trying to plan and see when another trip back here would be feasible.  I have a feeling it’s going to be one of those places that continually calls to you throughout your entire life, haunting you.  In a good way, though!