Act II.
We settled in and ordered coffees. We commiserated on the insanity of having two museums with essentiallly the same name. Naturally, talk turned to Greek culture and the economy. (I wonder if Greeks talk about anything else, these days?)
There was far too much discussed for me to cover in this blog (even assuming I could remember it). So I'm going to focus on a few highlights (really: lowlights).
I need to contextualize this by saying that all these women are educated professionals--most have two degrees (including the art student, who is 34 and was awarded a study grant last year). These are not public service workers, union members, etc., who might tell a different story.
A main area of discussion turned to just that topic: public sector workers and union members. These were described almost entirely negatively--that they had a stranglehold on the country and were using their power to maintain pressure for benefits that were unreasonable. They were described largely in terms of "featherbedding"--and not only creating easy jobs for themselves, but resenting and resisting when others wanted to do real work.
[As an aside, some of this echoed other, earlier conversations. When we were opening our bank account, the woman helping us--sort of an assistant manager--was incredibly busy. Even as she dealt with us, several others approached her for answers, forms, keys--there was not a moment that she was not zooming. When we commented on how overworked she seemed, she said she was just happy to have a job. (Sorry if I'm repeated myself--although her degrees were in archeology, she was now too long out of the field to ever go back. Her facial expression said that was a great disappointment to her.) She also said that in times gone by, there would be twice as many people working at the bank, but at any one time, half of them would be on extended coffee breaks. Similarly at the translation office. The line was about 45 minutes long to get to the two people at the counter who were doing all the intake processing (the translations happened later). When we got to the window, we noted three additional unstaffed windows behind a partition. Our clerk said, "yes, and when they were all there, half of them were on break. Now we must do it all and everyone must wait."]
[Here's another aside. When we went to play bridge in the apartment of someone we had met at the bridge club, we found ourselves in a very upscale neighborhood--100 meters from the Acropolis--and a VERY upscale apartment building--which, it was explained, was owned by a former government member who was now in jail. Over bridge and delicious almond cake she had baked, our hostess described the plight of many of her friends--owners of multiple properties who were deeply effected by the new austerity measures. They were for the first time having to pay property taxes! "Imagine!" she said, "they have to pay on 10 or more properties--they cannot do it. They have to try to sell, but no one will buy!"]
[And here's another. There is a 23% consumption tax, i.e. VAT, on everything except food which is 13%. As we know, this is a very regressive tax, falling hardest on those who spend most of their income. As a result, people attempt to create a "grey economy"--one that is off the books. That is getting harder, as now even venders in the farmer's market are required to provide printed receipts.)]
The second major complaint was pervasive nepotism. We heard a tragic-comic story from one of the women about her long-ago stint in a public service job focused on Greek PR. She was charged with preparing for a visit of the then-sitting prime minister to another country, to work out trade/commerce agreements. She did tons of work in preparation and consistently called her opposite number in the other country (a Greek living abroad; they would presumably work in tandem--she with the Greek press, he with the press of the other country), but he never responded to any of her calls, telexes, emails--nothing! When she met him shortly after she arrived with the delegation, she found someone who looked about as professional, competent, and sober as a panhandler. Then she discovered that he had done no work beyond handing out to his local contacts translations of the work she had sent him. Furious, she was about to challenge him when the editor of a major local newspaper called her aside. "Don't you know who he is," her colleague asked. "The [relative] of [a minor clerk] in the Prime Minister's retinue. Better not to go there!" [The story ends well for the woman who told the story--she quit her job and went to work for the newspaper as their Greek correspondent--but certainly not for the trade delegation.]
More to come on this . . .
We settled in and ordered coffees. We commiserated on the insanity of having two museums with essentiallly the same name. Naturally, talk turned to Greek culture and the economy. (I wonder if Greeks talk about anything else, these days?)
There was far too much discussed for me to cover in this blog (even assuming I could remember it). So I'm going to focus on a few highlights (really: lowlights).
I need to contextualize this by saying that all these women are educated professionals--most have two degrees (including the art student, who is 34 and was awarded a study grant last year). These are not public service workers, union members, etc., who might tell a different story.
A main area of discussion turned to just that topic: public sector workers and union members. These were described almost entirely negatively--that they had a stranglehold on the country and were using their power to maintain pressure for benefits that were unreasonable. They were described largely in terms of "featherbedding"--and not only creating easy jobs for themselves, but resenting and resisting when others wanted to do real work.
[As an aside, some of this echoed other, earlier conversations. When we were opening our bank account, the woman helping us--sort of an assistant manager--was incredibly busy. Even as she dealt with us, several others approached her for answers, forms, keys--there was not a moment that she was not zooming. When we commented on how overworked she seemed, she said she was just happy to have a job. (Sorry if I'm repeated myself--although her degrees were in archeology, she was now too long out of the field to ever go back. Her facial expression said that was a great disappointment to her.) She also said that in times gone by, there would be twice as many people working at the bank, but at any one time, half of them would be on extended coffee breaks. Similarly at the translation office. The line was about 45 minutes long to get to the two people at the counter who were doing all the intake processing (the translations happened later). When we got to the window, we noted three additional unstaffed windows behind a partition. Our clerk said, "yes, and when they were all there, half of them were on break. Now we must do it all and everyone must wait."]
[Here's another aside. When we went to play bridge in the apartment of someone we had met at the bridge club, we found ourselves in a very upscale neighborhood--100 meters from the Acropolis--and a VERY upscale apartment building--which, it was explained, was owned by a former government member who was now in jail. Over bridge and delicious almond cake she had baked, our hostess described the plight of many of her friends--owners of multiple properties who were deeply effected by the new austerity measures. They were for the first time having to pay property taxes! "Imagine!" she said, "they have to pay on 10 or more properties--they cannot do it. They have to try to sell, but no one will buy!"]
[And here's another. There is a 23% consumption tax, i.e. VAT, on everything except food which is 13%. As we know, this is a very regressive tax, falling hardest on those who spend most of their income. As a result, people attempt to create a "grey economy"--one that is off the books. That is getting harder, as now even venders in the farmer's market are required to provide printed receipts.)]
The second major complaint was pervasive nepotism. We heard a tragic-comic story from one of the women about her long-ago stint in a public service job focused on Greek PR. She was charged with preparing for a visit of the then-sitting prime minister to another country, to work out trade/commerce agreements. She did tons of work in preparation and consistently called her opposite number in the other country (a Greek living abroad; they would presumably work in tandem--she with the Greek press, he with the press of the other country), but he never responded to any of her calls, telexes, emails--nothing! When she met him shortly after she arrived with the delegation, she found someone who looked about as professional, competent, and sober as a panhandler. Then she discovered that he had done no work beyond handing out to his local contacts translations of the work she had sent him. Furious, she was about to challenge him when the editor of a major local newspaper called her aside. "Don't you know who he is," her colleague asked. "The [relative] of [a minor clerk] in the Prime Minister's retinue. Better not to go there!" [The story ends well for the woman who told the story--she quit her job and went to work for the newspaper as their Greek correspondent--but certainly not for the trade delegation.]
More to come on this . . .
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