Embassy of the United States

OVERVIEW

“The Mother of Macedonia.” “Seattle of the Balkans.” “The Eyes of Europe.” These are only a couple of the many names you could nickname a city as versatile and elusive as Thessaloniki. Depending from what perspective you take that is. My personal favorite is “the big village” as I constantly notice my affinity for cities that hold your hand and allow you to take them in stride. Sedated tourism, cozy coffee shops, and the opportunity to be one with the locals are incomparable to any other travel experience. Boston, Alexandria, Bruge, Pokhara, and Florence all come to mind when I recall such cities. In retrospect, I was not prepared to be overwhelmed with a Paris, a New York, and needless to say an Athens. I had just spent a year at the Institut d’Etudes Politiques in Lyon, and I believe I might have been in need of some “handholding” on Thessaloniki’s part.

I had signed up to work for the small yet active U.S. Consulate that summer since a previous assignment interning in the Africa Bureau at State had left me ooooing and ahhhing the Foreign Service life. Very dissimilar to my Washington Experience where being in my home city had enabled me to focus exclusively on the internship experience, this summer I had joined a relatively unheard of Consulate post, in an obscure metropolitan city that I had barely heard about prior to my arrival. It is rumored that even some Foreign Service veterans have trouble exactly locating this northern Greek city. When I started my internship, the only reference I had to Greeks was “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” which probably only accurately portrays Greek Americans. Yet, throughout the course of the internship, I feel that I was able to obtain some insight into the Greeks and their fascinating culture, as well as gain a more holistic view of diplomacy in action.

I would like to focus my comments on the Greeks, the city of Thessaloniki, definite musts as a tourist or as a permanent resident, and some general tips for American tourists and residents alike.

THE PEOPLE

The most liberating aspect of my journey in Thessaloniki was the lack of fear that I’d do something totally beyond social conventions that I would instantly be alienated by the locals. In stark contrast to my understood Lyonnais social codes- bring a bottle if you’re ever invited to a home, never smile at strangers, limit English usage…. Greece was like my emancipation from a carefully crafted year of avoiding making these grave social gaffes. As a result, I rarely felt that I was breaking any social codes or going against mainstream Greek culture. Their openness and artless way of making you feel secure and part of a big loving family was a source of true comfort during my first fairly solitary weeks in Thess.
Every sentence tended to begin with, “Alexandra….let me tell you something” enforcing a heavy Greek “d” on my celebrated Greek name and offering me their two cents.
“They’re certainly not shy,” I would chuckle to myself, amused by how their mannerisms and gregariousness reminded me of my own Ugandan heritage from my mother’s milieu, and what a stark contrast it was from the clear cut lines of obligation and duty of my Norwegian background from my father.

My first Greek friends were a couple I met in Starbucks who invited me to randomly join them on a coffee. Eryphilli and Theodorus were French speaking Greeks who had studied in both the U.S. and France so it was refreshing to compare cultural notes. They struck me with their generosity and joie de vivre.

“Il faut chercher pour trouver” Theodorus advised me in French which literally translates into: “You have to look to find yourself.”

Its bizarre reflecting on it now, but four other Greeks offered the same counsel throughout the course of the summer. They must have seen the premature stress marks of my ensuing senior year. The Greeks always take time to revere their teachers and ancient philosophers, never missing an opportunity to reference Aristotle or Socrates. Throughout the course of my internship, another couple also became my personal guides to Thessalonian living.

My landlords Vaso and Ted could not have been more warm, natural, and inclusive in the way I was integrated into their home life. I often got the impression I had become their adopted daughter during my 10 week internship in Thessaloniki. Vaso would carefully instruct me on how to make local dishes like papoutsaki and stuffed peppers in her gentle, unassuming way. Ted, a very lively conversationalist, would give me his take on Greek-American relations, and his eyes would dance with excitement when referencing American authors such as Ernest Hemingway who had made a powerful impact on his life. My favorite moments I spent with this engaging couple was the laughter that filled their home as we would all disagree in a discussion, and then would burst into laughter as the passions rose and our prospective stances became increasingly incoherent. A coworker in my office wryly noted that Greek families spend a lot of time “passionately defending their opinions,” which could be perceived as “fighting” from a western perspective as raising voices and disagreeing are less of a social norm. From this special relationship I was blessed to have with Ted and Vaso, I firmly believe that to truly understand a culture, or at least to get an insightful taste, being integrated one way or another in a family situation is key.

My few observations from interactions with the two couples named and other Greeks who took me under their wing, were that Greek families are exceptionally close. Children and their parents spend a lot of quality time together- discussing, laughing, and eating. It’s very natural, and it almost made me feel like it would do the new Ipod-labtop-cell phone prone culture some good to observe the uninhibited interactions of the typical Greek family. The last cultural observation I have detected is that probably what happened to me in Starbucks is somewhat rare. Greeks are usually more likely to form a friendship with you if you’re introduced by a third party. In the case with Ted and Vaso, I knew Vaso’s sister, Barbara from France, so I had a third party to facilitate the relationship.


TOURISM

The Thessalonian history is like a profound entangled story and connects Ancient Greece, the Roman Empire, Byzantine, and the Ottoman Empire beginning with the King of Macedonia, Philip II of Macedon who named the city after his wife, Thessaloniki. I found myself sometimes meditating on my early years where I would vapidly stare off in the distance as the sermon commenced with, “When Paul talked to the Thessalonians.” At that point in time in my child like stupor during what seemed like forever sermons, Thessalonians could have been Babylonians could have Assyrian. Yet, here I was in a city where Alexander the Great had ruled as King as Macedonia, rendering significance to my own name, Alexandra, to represent “defender of mankind.”
Now living in a city where there had been four centuries of Ottoman occupation by the Turks, I finally understood why the Great grandmother in my Big Fat Greek Wedding kept yelling out “Ye turke” with a shaking fist.

Specific elements of Thessaloniki that I personally enjoyed might be different to what people generally are fixated on as the tourist passing through on route to the beaches at Chalkidiki. A lot of people are impressed with the paralea (the board walk along the water) where you suddenly feel that you’re in the middle of runway, and if you’re not wearing a pair of aviators you might get the once over. The sea is beautiful to be sure, but to really know Thessaloniki, everyone should try venturing up to Ano poli (literally la haute ville = the high city) where the narrow streets and older generations chattering amongst themselves in between gulps of retsina k cola (a very unique white wine with coke that is popular among locals) reflect a more refreshing traditional experience. From Ano poli you can see a whole view of Thessaloniki; it is truly stunning. The best time to go is at dusk. The timeless scene of the Chalkidiki beaches coupled with Mount Olympus and the boats coming from the port renders the city a more archaic character. Please go!

I also had a soft place during my stay for the Kamara area. A two minute walking distance from my house, Kamara is flooded with alternative boutiques, record stores, eateries, quaint book shops, and more importantly an ideal opportunity for people watching. Thessaloniki is known for its large student life, and there is no better place to spot a throng of students from Aristotle (the largest university in the Balkans) and eat a gelato by the ancient ruins and the celebrated Arc of Galerius. This landmark is a hotspot for tourists as it commemorates Emperor Galerius’s victory over the Persians in 297. Unlike the serial shopping that takes place on Tsimiski, I found Kamara to be a more natural, laid back, down to earth atmosphere.



CONCLUSION

The best advice anyone ever gave me about living abroad was that my ultimate mission should focus on being uncomfortable by putting myself out there and being open to all sorts of experiences. Even if it felt unnatural and out of character.
“If you truly live abroad, you should put yourself in the most uncomfortable and awkward situations to really grasp the culture” my friend insisted.

Ordering a frappe in Greek. Attempting to sound out complex words like my favorite dish, “dolmadakia,” and failing miserably; laughing it off with a Den Pirazi (No worries). Breaking the mold and dancing with a friend at a Greek bar as opposed to sitting complacently in the background. The best thing I did in Thessaloniki was attempting to follow through with my friend’s advice. In this day and age being American is often perceived as being synonymous with being “ignorant” and “uninterested” in other cultures.” Yet my experience at a local tavernas made me acutely aware of how simple interactions can lead to dispelling these sort of negative cultural myths.

I was hanging out with two Americans, and upon hearing a couple of English words our server assumed we were from England or Australia…He then proceeded to give us his take on the United States, heading down a negative slope, yet he stopped himself short when he noticed our slightly bemused expressions.

“Wait where are you from?” he abruptly asked.

“Washington. Iowa. New York.” were our responses much to his embarrassment and surprise. A couple of retsinas later and melitzano salata (eggplant salad), we began analyzing Greek mythology, and complimenting his unique sounding name, Achileas. By the end of our meal, Achilles asked us to return, and he commented, “Now I have three good reasons to like America!”

Thus, regardless of our backgrounds, it’s essential to note that once we step out of our shells and enter “uncomfortable” territory, who knows what will happen. Maybe we’ll encounter another Achilles, and he will walk away amazed by how quickly a steadfast opinion echoing strong anti American sentiments can evaporate within one interaction. The Greeks were very accommodating and warm during my stay, and when you consider the Marshall Plan, Fulbright program, World War II, and simply the concept of democracy, Greeks and Americans are two cultures that enjoy a strong understanding and working relationship.

Several frapes and some dolmadakia later, I am grateful for the diplomatic process I was able to observe at the Consulate, and understand that diplomacy in action is more than a seminar on trans-border cooperation or a public affairs event. Diplomacy is also about open minds, expressing curiosity about unfamiliar things in the hope that the result will be a bigger vision and stronger cooperation. My experience living in the “big village” has taught me that often when we are the token foreigners, we are given the opportunity to witness diplomacy in action firsthand.