Miscellany . .

I came across blogs that I started in Word at various times, but somehow never posted.  So this is a bit of this-and-that . . .

Last night, June 1, I Skyped into the Cohort 13 Orientation--it was morning in California.   The tech folks had figured out a way for me to see the individual students, which was fabulous, since I had not seen most of them face to face, but had worked with them toward admission by phone, email, and Webex.  

I had prepared a few opening remarks that began with, "Kali mera--welcome to sunny Athens!"  More or less at that exact time, it started raining!  Not only that--for the first time in weeks, Ken and I had to wear pajamas to bed.  This is entirely unseasonable weather for Greece on the first of June!!  (To say nothing of the rest of Europe, that has alternately sizzled and frozen during this entire grant period.)  Which reminded me of an earlier post that I had started late in February, but never finished.  

WEATHER OR NOT . . .
 There's been a huge downpour for several hours--thunder, lightening, and about an inch of water on our balcony (the drain can't empty as fast as the rain is coming down).  Now we understand why there is a 3" high marble door-sill between the living-room floor and the balcony.  This isn't the walk-between-the-raindrops we're used to in California--this is taking-a-shower-with-all-your-clothes-on monsoon.  Oh, did I mention the hail?  I think we're getting the tail end of a blizzard that made its way across Europe.

It also knocked out our Internet, which makes for a very disconnected (no pun intended) feeling.  I can live without checking email for a while, but not be able to google?!?!  Hey, Universe, I'm doing some research, here--what's with the being cut off from anything that isn't actually within arms' reach?  I mean, c'mon!  Enough already with the waterworks.   We're good, okay?  Reservoirs full, farms moist, ducks happy.  Besides, today is open-air market in our neighborhood.  Trucks need to drive in from the farms; we need to walk over and replenish our fresh foodstuffs.  So are you done, yet?

[Later in the day, after it had cleared enough for me to meet a colleague for lunch, I learned that these warm monsoon rains began to occur only 5 years ago.  Welcome to climate change, Greece!]

YES, NO, MAYBE . . . ?

Here’s how to say no in most of the languages I can come up with quickly: nein (German), non (French), no (Spanish, Italian).  Here’s Greek (transliterated) ochi.  (Pronounced like the “och” in Loch Lomond, followed by “ee”; accent on first syllable.)

Here's how to say yes in those languages: ya, oui, si.  Here it is in Greek: nai (pronounced in between the sound a horse makes and the "e" in "get").

Listening to Greeks seems to be a whole lot of "no, no, no, no"--except it isn't.  And "ochi" can sound awfully close to "OK." 

Body language just complicates things further. We nod our heads up and down for yes; side-to-side for no.  Greeks do a half-nod down to indicate affirmation and up to indicate denial.   Think of neutral head position as looking straight ahead.  If the chin drops toward the chest, it’s “yes.”  (This can be repeated, which looks reasonably like our own assenting nod.)  But if the chin goes up in the air, it’s “no.”   That, too, can be repeated…leading the unsuspecting to think there is agreement.  

Then there's the high-energy Greek conversational style that means hardly anyone waits until the current speaker has finished before beginning a comment or response. (It's a style I'm very familiar and comfortable with, coming from New York.  Ken, however, is from Iowa--they actually wait a fraction of a second after the current speaker is finished, just in case there is an afterthought.  Of course, that means when all my family is gathered, he hardly gets a word in edgewise.)  

All of which can lead people to the impression that Greeks are confrontational (especially if one cannot understand the actual meanings of the words).  From another perspective, one may say they are enthusiastic, high-affect, ebullient, warm, engaging, upbeat, and so forth.  Only through the generally more "WASP-ish" US (and UK, for that matter) lens might they seem argumentative, rude, loud, obnoxious (all words I have heard applied to folks from the East Coast, so I know those are common interpretations.)  There's obviously a message here in cross-cultural understanding.