The Beginning

Written on the ferry to Santorini, 9/3/09 at 11:45 pm

I am alive!

Utterly, sensationally, spiritually charged! Without the fear of reproach, impedence, or obligation, my mind is free to wander, and even now it’s found nothing but an enlightened euphoria. In less than two days, the weight of the world, a flustering ball of worry, routine, and ambivalence, has drained away, and life has rushed into the gaping void. I’m a bedside convert, except I’m not longer scared of running out of time, because time has stopped and I’ve stopped with it.

After a day of visiting the ancient Athenian sites, I wound up on the roof of my hostel, sharing a drink with 30 other strangers from around the world, and admiring the fire streaked Acropolis as the sun set behind the city. As the night grew, we found ourselves at a free electronica concert by Calvin Harris (apparently a rather famous musician), jumping around and shouting in our smattering of different languages. The fact that I can use the words “Parthenon”, “foreign friends”, and “free concert” in the same sentence when describing my day makes my head reel.

Even now, I’m sitting on the deck of a ferry as it navigates through the thousands of Cycladic Islands on the way to Santorini, wondering why I’m typing on my computer instead of finding life’s answers in the starry skies. I’m afraid that if I don’t try and write when I can, I won’t have the willpower to continue documenting my journey. Besides, I like that I will be able to look back and see how important this semester abroad is going to be, even if I’m sensationalizing it for my viewing audiences.

As for Athens, I have covered the main attractions. I’ve seen the Acropolis, the Acropolis museum, the Temple of Zeus, the Olympic Stadium, the Roman Agora, and more ancient ruins than I remember. I rode the metro for the first time, seen more cabs than I could imagine, and have still yet to learn how to say even one phrase in Greek. Instead, I stupidly traipse through the city; still finding that I assume everyone speaks English, or at the very least understands me. As a tourist, I’m the worst, but as a dreamer, I’ve a chance.

Tomorrow, I’ll visit more even ancient ruins, the rumored resting place of Atlantis, and a black sand beach on the north of the island, before leaving back to the mainland to see the Oracle of Delphi. Greece has been so overwhelming, that I’m not sure I realize I am in Europe, that I’m a third of the way around the world home, or that I’ll also be visiting Italy and living in France before returning to the United States. I can’t fathom where I am, or what I’m doing, but I know I enjoy every minute of it, and I’ll finally find what I’m looking for, whatever it may be. I’m no longer holding the reins, or even pulling the carriage. Instead, I’m in a straightjacket, tied to the bottom of the train, watching the tracks fly by and reveling in their multicolor mosaic as they fill my vision.