10 seconds at the Acropolis, and my first 12 hours in Athens

I had been in Athens for all of 10 hours, and had been on the Acropolis for all of 10 seconds, when I felt absolutely certain that this was where I wanted to spend a semester. I woke up at 5 am this morning in Irvine, CA--a city more sterile than a doctor's office and desperately lacking a meaningful history--and by sunset I was in a place so rich with history it practically thickened the air, you could practically taste it, and its history was so strong and forceful that it had smoothed the marble beneath my feet. Okay so maybe it wasn’t “this morning” technically, but since I hadn’t slept since then, I figure it basically counts (one can bend the truth a little for dramatic and literary effect right?). Regardless, I found myself standing on top of the most incredible Greek ruins, treading on marble that millions of people had walked on before me, and had been for millenia. Though I clearly do not have the depth of knowledge that my Classics major roommate, Gloria, has (who gushed about the incredible and improbable architectural feat that we were looking upon, excitedly rambling on about how each block was unique and for the ancient civilization to have brought these stones up the hill and shaped them so perfectly and for it to have been architecturally sound and and and…concluded that “they were aliens. The Greeks, the Aztecs…all aliens”), it is impossible to not feel utterly swept away by these ruins. And more than that, they’re on the top of a hill that rises triumphantly out of Athens, overlooking the city and offering a panorama that is enough to take my breath away, ruins or no ruins. The rolling hills spreading under my feet, brimming over with beautiful white buildings, mountains rising up in the distance, and the Mediterranean gleaming in the setting sun—yes, I knew I had chosen my study abroad well.

In comparison to the Acropolis, nothing else about my first day seems very noteworthy, other than that I love the three girls I’m sharing an apartment with, our apartment is cute and functional and two minutes away from a promising-looking bakery (what more can you ask for?), and that Caroline (my other Classics major roommate) and I learned two important bits of Greek shopping etiquette: weigh your own bananas and bag your own groceries. Don’t be those asses from America! I hope tomorrow we will learn the word for “sorry” in Greek. But I look forward to making more embarrassing mistakes and slowly, slowly, being less painfully, obviously, foreign--and making a little more history to add to this historically magnificent place.

But for now, some much needed sleep.