A birthday, ancient ruins, prophecies and a dead man...

Although I was exhausted from endless days with little sleep, I drug myself out of bed at 6 am (on my birthday) and got ready for another Greek adventure. Destination: Delphi and Arachova. When our group met down in the lobby of the dorm at 7 am, it seemed that everyone's excitement for Delphi was stifled by extreme over-exhaustion. I guess the fact that it was my birthday contributed to my obviously unshared energy. Once we got on the bus and were in transit to the ancient site of Delphi, I was out like a light, along with just about every other classmate, roommate, trip-mate and group leader.

Mr. Dr. Kaplan woke us all after about two hours on the road because we had come to a Greek rest stop where we could purchase pastries, breakfast, drinks, coffee, etc. Now, picture a rest stop in America, with the families piling out of their mini-vans, stopping for a potty break, the vending machines, the big bathrooms, the truck drivers going in and out. If you want to know what a Greek rest stop looks like, I suggest you completely erase any details of the rest stop you just imagined from your mind. The only words I can think of to describe it are disorderly, stinky, raucous, chaos. No, seriously. After I left the restrooms (which house toilets that apparently didn't come with toilet seats), I went to buy a pastry and a drink. They had rows and rows of sweet pastries, a separate coffee bar and a mini-market. I had trouble figuring out where I was supposed to pay for my food, but I figured that the mass mob of people standing around the counter with their wallets out was a good bet. I took a deep breath to brace myself for the wave of B.O. I was about to get slammed with (Greeks are supposedly super clean, but their smell would suggest otherwise) and sacrificed myself to the crazed, hungry, Greek mob. Apparently, lines aren't much of a thing in Greece. So don't try to stand in one, you'll never get there. I quickly learned that the best way to the front counter was through forceful (but still somehow polite) shoving. I finally made my way to the front and after a little bit of close listening to the cashier (it's hard to hear over a mob of Greek shouting) paid for my food and to put it frankly, got the hell out of that store like it was burning to the ground. That was an experience, albeit one I wouldn't like to relive, that really struck me as something I'm going to remember. And although it was extremely frustrating and overwhelming in the moment, it was actually kind of cool in a way, to do as the Greeks do. It highlighted the aspects of their culture that we, as Americans, find so confusing. The lack of order, the shouting, the mobs instead of lines. All of it ties back to the culture they were born into.

The Temple of Apollo and the beautiful view.

So, after that somewhat uncomfortable experience, we climbed back on the bus to begin the climb on the snaking mountain roads that lead to Delphi. Delphi was incredible to say the least. In ancient times it was the place where Greeks would travel in what was a sort of religious pilgrimage to visit the Temple of Apollo where they could speak to the Oracle, a prophetic virgin, and seek advice. The Oracle, under the intoxication of fumes that rose from the decomposing body of Python slain by Apollo, would "rave" in an unrecognizable form of speak, that was translated by the priest into hexameter and relayed to the inquirer. Naturally, these "prophecies" were always vague, so as to prevent any sort of blame for misunderstandings or bad advice. The history of Delphi is interesting in and of itself, but exploring the ruins really completed the picture.

 

 

After exploring the Delphic ruins and visiting the museum, we hopped back on the bus and stopped in the beautiful mountainside ski-town of Arachova, where we had a delicious lunch and browsed in the shops over furs, woven carpets, sculptures and authentic Greek houseware. We didn't get to spend a ton of time there, but I was thoroughly impressed at the quaint, uniform beauty that was Arachova. Not to mention, I had an incredible lunch; coq au vin with rice (That's fancy for rooster in tomato sauce)!

The main road that runs through Arachova.

 

After Arachova, we made our last stop at the Osios Loukas monastery before heading back to Athens. I'll admit, at this point I was kind of tired of seeing churches, and both exhaustion and an eagerness to get back to the dorm, made me want to skip the monastery. But I have to say, this was absolutely without a doubt one of the most beautiful monasteries I have ever seen. And it was definitely an experience.

When I got off of the bus, I immediately made a beeline for the restroom. Little did I know that a "toilet" was a foreign concept here. A hole in the ground is much preferred. Still, I haven't figured out why.

And yes, I really did mean a hole in the ground. 

I'd rather not go into the details of how you're supposed to go about your business when you use this, but I will tell you that I was perplexed and spent a good three minutes contemplating the science of it. Finally, I figured it out and left with a whole new appreciation for the porcelain bowl and seat that I'm accustomed to. 

Then, it was on the beautiful Byzantine monastery, Osios Loukas. These Byzantines didn't play around; as a sign of respect for the monastery, every visitor is asked to follow the traditional custom of covering their shoulders and knees, so most of us girls had to wear their handmade skirts, to get access to the monastery. 

The monastery was breathtaking, with ornate mosaics depicting scenes from the Bible covering the walls, the beautiful altars for preaching, the architecture both inside and out.

       

As I was browsing through the monastery, I came upon a glass case with a priest's robes laying inside. I figured this was just an example of the clothing worn by priests during Byzantine times, maybe an example of how they were buried. But as I looked closer I realized that this glass case was actually a coffin, and the robes were filled with a dead body. You can imagine my horror, at least at first. Then I realized that it was sort of cool to be able to see a dead body...I apologize for being bluntly morbid (but come on, seriously). Then I thought about the fact that I was standing in front of and looking at what once was a real person and what now is that person's dead body and I was a little shocked at the fact that his slowly decaying corpse was on display for all to see. There was no name listed, but after doing some research, I've learned that this person is supposedly St. Luke who died in 953 AD which means that he's been chilling in there for over 1,000 years.

Yeah, he's legit. And yes, that brown thing, sticking out of his robes, is his hand. 

Mrs. Dr. Kaplan explained that, because his hand is not completely white, he is still decaying, which means that he still has flesh on his bones. And since this guy died in 953 AD, these Byzantines had a hell of a preservation system, second only to the Egyptians and their mummies. Now, I'm not sure if there's some sort of eternal damnation for taking pictures of a dead saint, but there weren't any signs that said I couldn't, so here's hoping I don't go straight to hell for this.

Before I left the monastery I decided to take part in the prayer ritual, which involves donating a little bit of change, lighting a prayer candle, and then placing your candle in a tray with all of the others after saying a prayer. It's a different sort of prayer than I'm used to but it was cool to take part.

After our visit to Osios Loukas, we got back on the bus once again and began winding our way down the mountain, towards Athens. Despite the fact that I was exhausted, I didn't get any sleep on the two hour ride back and, to celebrate my birthday, chose to go out once again for dinner and ice cream with the brave trip-mates who were awesome enough to join me. 

Although it was exhausting, I have to say it was a great birthday, and to spend it in Greece...that's something I'll never forget.