A Post-Defence Dip in Amsterdam and the Mails that Followed (27-28 May 2013)

2013 May 27

Dear All

I am using the net service at the hotel. I could not get the tele-cards as the shops were closed on Sunday and with the mobile the network was not coming on.

So I am here. No idea as to what to do today. May be I will just walk around. It was touch getting guidance from reception this night as the bar marijuana and music was too loud in the lobby!

May be tomorrow I could do some sightseeing. Earlier in the flight I had a good conversation with a lawyer from Hamburg who was on the way to Holland, the legal centre of Europe. He told me that Amsterdam is no Dutch anymore. It has some good things if one knows where to be in.

Otherwise the grass has dominated the life. When it became the only thing in town, people moved out.

I will try to call tomorrow.

But I am fine here.

Will take it easy and probably just do the situationists derive!!

Ummma
Mon Maathu Appa Chaacha

2013 May 27

Appa Amma Srijakutta Molootty Tottappa

                                                                                   

Post Breakfast, and after a good one at that, I was confused whether to join one of the many walking tours or to explore the place myself. The little time I had had not given me the confidence to do that myself. But after some moments of contemplation that is what I exactly did. The only plan for the forenoon was visiting Anne Frank Museum and after noon perhaps go to the relocated Van Gogh Museum (from what I understood).

The good maps that I always find everywhere in Europe as well as the all pervasive street names helped me. But for Holland the street names did not stay put in mind with their not only phlegmatic pronunciations but also the same kind of spellings! The many straats, pliens...groots...toosts...Well I finally got out and traced the Damrat street towards the relatively broad Rodstraats. I read somewhere that the street widenings of urban reforms started taking place here as well but there was opposition to it at points, so many alleys that hugged the canals and medium streets remained. So I did not find the huge Parisian streets in here.

Rodstraat went into few unnameable (sorry it was difficult) alleys and reached where Anne Frank once lived and once had to Hide. The crowd that were queuing up there let me down big time, the person at the boar tour centre told me that perhaps six o clock or earlier in the morn could help. I changed my plans. But I had so many questions what a figure like Anne rank or the 'Jewish question’ connotes for large number of people from Europe. How they place it when they negotiate their everyday and perhaps flock in umbers beyond touristic intensions around the facade to a once tragic and grey zone.

The canals along with the bicycles and Hash had to be chosen from. I chose the former. I got into one of the boats and started the cruise flanked on both sides by houses once built on wooden piles that went in deep. But the salt water did take its toll. Concrete replaced wood as did bricks in the case of building material towards the nineteenth century. All the canals fanned out and networked the city in an amazing way and fed into the lake which here is called an IJ (pronounced eye). The canals were also about defence, but for Amsterdam the defence was also from the sea...majority of the land lay two meters below sea and points event went as much down as thirty...scary stuff if one thinks into it. But the canals did a lot of that trick. Transport dominated the functionalities later. The canals were chequered according to the class character. There were houses with larger floor space once (and even now) occupied by the wealthy merchants.

We passed the only natural fresh water body in the whole region called Amstel. Damming the Amstel becomes Amstell...dammme and thus Amsterdam. The earlier references are from 1200s and relate to some tax exemptions being given to the making of such a dam.

We saw some remnants of walls at points now crowned by later additions of spires. The defensive functions during Napoleonic and Engish attacks get symbolically subsumed. The Dutch as could be gathered just from these canals are traders all along and during the golden age (these ages are the curse in world histories...the reality is that of large processes) of the 17th century there were myriad migrations Flemish, Huguenots, and Sephardic Jews (like Kochi the Helleguas came here as well from Spain....got asylum). Then post world war two and some decades further there was the second major migration from Suriname (Hindus thus become a major religious segment), and Indonesians from ex Dutch east India. Then the workers from Morocco and Turkey....the Netherlands is less than 50 percent of Dutch parentage ethnically speaking. The planological (from what I heard) reorganisation saw new suburbs springing up thanks to out-migration of Dutch.

We passed some music halls, a marine research centre shaped like a ship, and the port to the other side of the Centraal train station once built on 8000 girdles in the shape of cabins. It required a lot of architectural ingenuity to keep this sub-pelagic place to stay live! One of the announcements said that even the fish tenuously divide their space in the canal with the floor space reserved for the salt water ones and the top layer for the fresh water ones.

The boat trip ended by 12:00ish. I walked towards where I though Van Gough was being exhibited after the closing of the original site for renovation. But my reading was wrong. This was a digital presentation of his works. The original on was now functional and was a bit away. Back of my mind I knew art was not in the list of liking at least this time. But beer was and Heineken's holy birth was some kilometres away.

I did not take any metro. I walked past the Roikin street to Amstel street (all has Dutchier names). I walked back part of this way to take the right street which after some minutes took me past the final bridge to Heineken Brewery...impressive structure when one comes down the curve of the canal bridge.

Heineken filled the rest of the day, spiritually as well as temporally. The brewery with everything explained, ending with a virtual tour that makes one feel as in the cauldrons of distillations hop addition and fermentation, with water and heat adding on to the feel...I became a beer myself end of the tour. Towards the end there are lessons of how to feel and taste beer. Then there is a lot of beer. Passing through the nuanced stages of beer making (also tasking the mid-stages of the process); I have come to respect more the invention. After the brewery we got into a Heineken boat with a lively youngster guiding us further. The Heineken part of the day I will rather try ad describe with photos when we talk in person. It is difficult to write.

I had a nap at Flying Pigs till about 5:00. There is no plan as of now to revisit Anne Frank.

Will try to write.


Ummmmmmmmmmmmma

Mon Maathu Chaacha Apppa

2013 May 28

Appa Amma Srijakutta Mole Totappa

Appe happy that you liked it.

This time I was all confused as to how to move around. But somehow this came off, thanks to some energy about the city, which does not have the same effect as Barcelona or the warmth of Athens. But I would say Amsterdam was the right place for a small dip.

Hash, Canals, Bicycles, and Red-light, I thought would sum up the city. But that is not all. On the other hand there is another side to the city precisely because of these highlights. There is a continuous plate tectonics of life, with those who are in it ‘and those who feel out of it'. The lawyer I met in the flight belongs to the latter. But then there is large spectrum that is part of the games Amsterdam puts forward.

There is an air of permissiveness, not least with sex and dope, on the one hand but this doesn't seem so near the bourse streets and stock exchange...not around Zuidaas, the new finance centres. There are different levels in which the economy as well as the life runs. I have seen heritage hearts in most European cities and finance and capitalist quarters that has suffocating homogeneity. In Amsterdam the leftovers of its commercial past itself becomes the dynamic heritage that gets smoked away every day.

One hundred and ninety six ethnicities/nationalities are citizens here. The number of languages that one hears in the streets, even without the tourists, could be mind boggling. Perhaps a holy communitas could be formed out of this motley mix of people, histories, bicycles, or economies; only in hash.

I might check out by 10:30 tomorrow. I have to be at airport by 11:45. I am sure I will get the hang of the excess called Amsterdam when I get down at Nordic moderations of Bergen.

Will talk more

Ummmmmas

Mon Maaathu Chaacha Apppa

Going Hellenic once again (Mails from Athens and Delphi in 2010- Five years after the first visit)

Ellavarkum (Chakkaravaave ninne pratyekam)

Abdul Karim Gaddil, as he introduced himself to be, started to drive me in his taxi towards Bergen Luftvahn. He spoke fluent Urdu and from his English accent (which was Jafferesque) I thought he is from Sudan. But he was Somali. He told me that it has become next to impossible to be in the war ridden homeland. He 'informed' me with an air of surety that India along with China was to replace UK and US in their positions in the next ten years. I did not contradict, I wanted to get a decent fare end of the trip! But let no one replace those positions and let people think over what the state entities are becoming everywhere. And then, I got a phone call and that too from a Norwegian mobile number...early in the morn (?). This was a driver from Norges Taxi. He told me that his trip has been stolen by the Somali! Then Gaddil asked my name again and told in his broken English that he got me wrong. Earlier I got a Norwegian SMS, ran downstairs and found Gaddil all set to take 'Mathieu' to airport. And presently the guy reversed his taxi. Now I was worried as to what he was up to and of course this was no body's fault.

Back at Fantoft, there was a couple from some place in South of Africa (by their accent), talking to the Norges Taxi driver. My driver apologised and suggested that the other fellow take his original passengers. In the end everything worked fine and Gaddil, gladly, did not turn on his meter until we reached the point we reversed from and started once again from 120 kroner.

After battering with the chilly Norwegian air for the past many days and getting tired of this, my epithelium shook hands with sun and savoured the heat at 35000 feet up from the ground. The fight passed over the Austrian Alps towards the south east, passing over Slovenia and Macedonia, it descended a bit more. The Greek mainland became visible and the tentacle like borders were marked out against azure Mediterranean. Surely one of the best sights and even better(er) was the sight of the green leaves down on the ground. This was no temperate zone, and what makes Greece special is the fact that neither the geography not its genealogy is quite temperate.

If it was George Kalliampos whom I met with in the flight back from Athens in 2004, this time the youngster I met on the flight was Stavros. He was warm and answered all my small queries. But unlike with Kalliampos, we never got into a conversation.

In the express bus, after a brief grey rendezvous with un-uniformed police (who appear at airports and remind one of borders), a rather better demeanour(ed) officer told me that the green needle leaved trees and the tooja-like smaller shrubs were called Leflu and Peptu. Who Knows!

...........................

Achilles took twenty of us to the oracle at Delphi! This was the Greek guide who turned out to be much more of a buddy than a guide by the evening. We assembled near the door and in front of the fat dog that has been sleeping at the doorstep overnight.

The coach was waiting for us in front of the Hadrian's arch monument. We carried our lunch box along with us and soon we were on the road North West from the dingy Makri Street we were put up at (named after the mythical maakris that jumped all around the acropolis!).

Achilles started to give his very good overview on the history and mythology of Delphi and this was long, serious and replete with too many names one can seldom recall. We passed the site of the battle of Marathon between Persians and Athenians (the result of which was prophesied by the Oracle and the live reporting was done by the runner who died right on the stop after the announcement of Athenian victory and cutting the historical chord of Marathons that were to follow).

Cypresses, Pine and Olives gave us the green beddings and there were many fields on our was. The agriculture in some way was very much on though Achilles did not quite know what was being done. Tractors, tillers , shepherds and sheep could be seen. On the wayside were many 'kurishukuttis' which was in fact not what I thought them to be viz. Saints remembered. These were memorials to those killed on the road.

Churches with domes were everywhere, Greek Orthodoxy is an overt presence and identity, unlike the covert Christian underpinnings of rest of 'secular' Europe.

The Delphic site has myths that go back long time and predate the twelve better known gods led by Zeus, to Uranus and Gaia (earth goddess?). Then there was the overwhelming presence of Apollo as against Dionysius at the Acropolis. The site has been linked to Gaia. Apollo was crucial in giving a death blow to the dreaded python (hence the name Pythian temple where the oracle sat). He did this in a strange way. The Corinthian coast of course could be seen from Parnassus Mountain on which the Delphic site rests. But to imagine the god coming as a Dolphin (Dalphius give the place the name), jumping atop the 2400 metre Parnassus and arrowing the python to oblivion requires the help of 'Dionysian wine' to go in!!!

And as Achilles said Dionysius was not entirely absent either. In winters he used to visit Delphi. One can for sure understand the need of wine and joviality in the winter days.

By this time we has left the Athens Attica prefecture and mountains popped up from the plains. There were many of them, some looked to be limestonish white and others looked red. There were rocks that threateningly clung on to the mountain slopes. We passes the town of Arachova. There was a panoramic view from a point here. This is known as a winter resort, but I was so glad that it was not this time.

Passing Arachova we went to modern Delphi, with residential spaces, small streets and all the touristy preoccupations, but much less crowded. In fact this was quite far away from the town. To talk of something a little aside, Athens hosts almost a third of the population and waves of migration , especially after Mustafa Kamal's retaliation to Greeks in 1920s and migrant construction workers who came in during the 2004 Olympic Games. Outside Athens places are so sparsely populated and some of the terrain looks like the places on the way to Andhra Pradesh or Tamil Nadu with houses resembling some of the sober ones from Kerala.

There were two freshwater lakes, one at Marathon and another further north that supplied all the water needs of the city. In fact the place looks quite dry and does not have the kind of water resources we have. But the sparse population where these water bodies are constituted leaves them much less depleted or polluted unlike our good rivers.

We were first into the museum that was to close around three. Rainclouds loomed over the mountains and by the time we were getting in it rained but with a nice scent of the Mediterranean soil. Museums always tire me out but there were a couple of things that needs to be mentioned. Some of the decorative motifs taken from the site of excavation had eastern like origins and there was a Bronze statue that was to give evidence for the presence of the metal ...least of the this metal was available as they were melted for their value.

................

Another major aspect that I noticed about the excavations, from the museum, was that the majority of these took place in the latter half of 1800s and a lot of them by the French. The reconstructions on the ground and the kind of narrative continuities that gets presented probably needs to be seen politically as well. But nevertheless the sights remain awe inspiring, though their designations as the roots of ‘European civilisation’ are surely overdrawn.

Rain did not give us any space so far. We walked towards the coach from the museum and distributed the turkey sandwiches between us and waited for the rain to abate. Water streamed down the roadsides just like the way we are familiar back home. When Zeus reduced the rain to a drizzle we started to trek up the way to the sites in Delphi. Stones were strewn all over; some of them undoubtedly got carved out of the terrain. We were in fact entering the ancient path from midway. The temple of Athena Pronaia (that which comes before) was down south east and we were to go here only later.


Thus we passed the several treasuries that talk about the cosmology the Delphic temple of Apollo represented. The temple of Pythian Apollo from where the Oracles operated was supported by an order called Amphicthioni which means an agreement between the city states (the formations of which took effect in the mainland ever since the Mycenean civilisation that preceded Hellenic one).

Amphictioni, even when it got short circuited to the UN, was of course quite the kind. Even the 'Greeks' were yet to happen. The only groups that were there was a tribe called Hellenic from Thessaly. The Amphictioni included others like Siphinians, Argines, Spartans, Phoenicians and may be even the long time rivals of Athenians, the Persians. War always added on to the treasuries and Delphi grew no matter what (probably more like how the oil price grows through wars- but yes with a different intermeshing cosmology).

With the Romans Delphic oracle became much more of an individuated presence and the Christians considered this entire Pagan. But the Greek Christian order was never entirely disjoint from what there was, they were more hybrid formations.

Passing the treasury we came to the altar for Apollo made of black marble.

This looked conspicuously distinct from the whitish structures all around. Sacrifices were said to be made here after people got themselves cleansed at the Kastilian spring. The entrance to what was once the spring was closed at present because of falling rocks. The whole region is a seismic zone. Unlike Acropolis much of the place were hidden in rubbles late into the ADs which probably explains why the place was co-opted by Venetians or Turks as they did in Acropolis.

Down from the sloped, standing on the slippery pathways we saw the valleys of Olives and the Temple of Athena with its Tolos structure keeping a distinct profile.

Now we were at the much known theatre of Dionysius, the wine god proving his presence, in Apollonian terrain. 50,000 people once got seated here to watch the performances. At present only twenty rows of the semicircular theatre remain.

The temple of Apollo becomes more visible from here and it is said that the oracle was under a hallucinogenic trance when she sat here. The later day 'rational' explanations of vapour from fault lines by  Dutch geographer does not quite convey as wholesome a picture as the once buries Python exuding fumes...

time getting over...in next mail
 .....................

On the way down the slopes tracing back the points from the stadium of Pythian games, through the rubbles atop the Dionysian theatre and the altar of Apollo, to the treasuries and back to the bus (the rain that Zeus put to stop has resumed); a conversation broke out between some Americans and Australians in the group and Achilles. This was on the stray dogs of Greece. They felt this strange and were obviously worried about 'safety'.

Achilles said that the dogs have never been a problem. In fact at many points people has randomly kept vessels full of water from which dogs and much more numerous cats drank from. I speculated that most towns in the world would have had these creatures some years back though a cleansing happened in many modern cities. This was not totally unrelated to securitisation and also many 'unwanted elements' among the felines and canines.

Then Achilles told us about a very interesting etymology. This was about the Cynics of Hellenic towns that did everything out of the order. And the word cynic comes from the Greek word for dog. Yes, the dogs for them are supposed to be  wanderers. That is the way dogs should be. Being on tethers, being under care and then getting mercy killed (Norway the former category and Australia and UK the later ones) were abnormal. I liked the take. Dogs are not only doggish but also cynical

Because of the rain there was some hesitation as to what to do, but then the rain stopped abruptly. We took a short ride to the road right above the Athenian temple that presently cut the once ancient panatheniac route. We walked down, took a quick look at the Totos and the temple basements. The tolos still remains a structure with mysterious reasons to be.

But the structure for me looked to be a lot worked upon and a lot with too much recent imaginations. It looked amazing nevertheless. What was much more interesting about Delphi (or that matter the Acropolis) was the fact that they conveyed something about the cosmology of the time, with each part informing the other.

We saw some falcons circling above us. They are the cousins of the eagles sent once by Zeus to opposite directions (these birds are said to meet here at Delphi and thus the place became the navel of the world).

Goats and sheep with shepherds were taking their way back home in front of the fields and past the memorial crosses. In the ancient time, before the oracles, the shepherds of this place is thought to have discovered the magic of the site of Apollonian temple when they discovered that their goats behaved strange after being there. So were the goats the first Oracles, before the old ladies' (and some were younger) prophesies replaced the 'bleating prophesies' (that probably left the pilgrims all the more confused!!)?

I slept for half an hour on our way back with the bazouki accompanied Greek music. And Srijakutta, two of the songs were the ones that we played at the radio station. It’s from a band called Odromos (meaning The Street). We stopped at a food joint that served food that was neither here nor there type. The place did not look as bad as a MacDonald’s. But I did not eat here. I waited until we reached back.

Back at the Backpackers at Makri, I said goodnights to Leonhard, Aimie (Vietnamese American), the others, and more importantly to Achilles who has been more than a tour guide.

Many things he told us cannot be exactly remembered. But there were a lot...
 ......................

I woke up rather late. But I did not want to miss the free Breakfast. I rushed down and had joined the jam butter bread ceremony! After a quick shower  I walked towards Acropolis after five years.

This was a rather quick visit. I took some photos and with the huge crowd (Sunday entry was free) I went up there and after a gaze at Agora down below, descended the marble steps.

Back at the hotel, Ionnais, recommended some Greek dishes and suggested a reasonable restaurant, some minutes of walk away, near the older town center of Plaka.

When I was at a shop on the way Aimie (the Vietnamese girl who was with the group last day) introduced me to her friend she has been eagerly waiting for. Fung came from Sweden. If Aimie was from a family that migrated to US, Fung was from another smaller group that went to Scandinavia. We decided that we rather go to this restaurant together. In fact we wanted to change the near to bad fooding-experience last night with four others.

Will continue...
 ..................

So Aimie, Fung and I were at Kafenio first. The rooms had an attic like structure, and people more or less crowded in. We could clearly see the Acropolis from the doorway, illuminated, and ever whiter against the dark sky. We ordered for almost five different dishes. I had no doubt that we should, especially since from the next day it will be a going back to the Scandinavian diet for a couple more weeks.

Dacos, Kavourmas, Fava (dhal), Keftede Saltsa (meatballs with Sauce) and Manitaria, decorated out table. Both of my travel mates have been once together for their high school in Hawaii. Now Aimie has become a Dentist with a clinic in Sacramento, California and Fung is a Tax Lawyer based in Stockholm. As I wrote before both their families has been through a long process of finding space in the respective social milieus. For the Vietnamese of Aimie's parental generation who went to US in the seventies, it was more of fulfilling what they understood to be 'the American Dream'. She told us that her dad remains overstrained even now. With real-estate and novel business plans in an uncertain economic environment, Aimie seemed a bit worried about him. Fung's family in Sweden were not into such strains. An 'over smart' Greek kid came barging on to us when we were getting out of Kafenio after more than an hour. He followed us and stayed at the door steps with karate actions.

We walked further down the smaller alleys to Plaka and then Aimie showed us the Orthodox Church she attended the Sunday service at. This was very much a Byzantine church.

Iconography is very prominent in such churches and she (who has a Catholic background) told us that people did totally novel things inside. They conversed with individual icons, did not have the unanimity she found in a Catholic order, and were doing the cross, with the fourth point at the center of their chest (rather than one of the shoulder points). The priests with long beards and black tunics, of course looked theatrical for her (this is rather familiar to people of Kerala).

We walked all the way to the parliament square and then had the next barge into Vrittoes. Now this was what should be called a riot of colours with multicoloured bottles going all the way up the shelves, some with an antique look and wooden drums on another side.

A German guy who has been living in the Cretan islands (where the oldest Minoan civilisation once thrived) started a conversation with us. He was very helpful for Aimie and Fung who was to be here for a couple more days with plans to be made. Afterwards they plan to move to Istanbul (one of the best logical follow ups, to me).

We started with Masticha (which has the taste of a local herb with some sweetness) and tried out drinks with Melon, Watermelon, and Lemonaid flavour. There was a Greek man who was drunk and drowned and others who told that Fung and Aimie were some of the most exotic people around at that moment. They were not interruptive for us, but rather a lot open about what they felt and Greeks do get into any kind of conversations out of the blue.

Both of them told me that our family is always welcome at their respective places. One the square ahead some young boys were playing tape recorders and performing break dances. Two dogs started following us all the way through the small alleys.

We were worried about their possible pack behaviour and also wanted to know whether they are keen on us as such. So we took small turn all the time. They kept smart distances and followed our steps! They barked at the vehicles and people who passed near to us. It looked phenomenally strange. And adding on to the magical realism of it (Aimie said so because we were talking of the magical realism outsiders found in Latin America, some minutes before) with the reality of the Dogs following and at times leading the footsteps and amazingly leaving us right at the last turn towards Makri. They gazed at us for a moment and ran away, tracing the road back!!!

It was almost 1:00 am by the time we were back. We said good night and agreed to meet next day at Breakfast before I leave.

So another Greek sojourn was coming to an end. I am now sure that this is the only place I probably have a warm heart for all the time, apart from home.

May be there is more to write. I will do that....
 ...............

Aimie and Fung were getting ready to go for a 'walking tour' from Backpackers. And I was glad to know that it was Achilles who was guiding them this time as well. I could say Adieu to the three of them and then there was an Argentinean roommate who had my name but in another version, Mathias.

I went along with the former three up to the Temple of Olympian Zeus and from there they continued with Athenian stories. On my way back I saw police cars parked all over. A Madagascar shopkeeper told me that there is going to be a strike and the buses won't probably run! The enquired with the police and they did not have any clear answer either. Ionnais later told me that this was not exactly a strike though the Greek economy has been giving rise to many strikes off late.

This was the memorial demonstration of the student radical from Athens Polytechnic who was killed in the riots thirty years back (The movement brought down the right wing dictatorship).

Nevertheless Ionnais did caution me and suggested the Metro. I met Gabrielle from Mexico who arrived last day. We were supposed to go out and have food together. But we are yet to meet each other (after I went out for a phone call and Gabrielle for a coffee).

I have to get my bags ready now and step into a metro or express, on my way out from the Hellenic...back into the cold Nordic

 ...................

I have been in some places on different stretches of time. The longest stretch, of course was in Norway. I loved the shorter times in Barcelona or Rome, where I have also met some very good people. But the only place for which I had tears for when I left was Greece. That was in two thousand four and in the same days of December I was coming back to Bergen.

This time I did not cry. I can be home after two weeks. This took the tears away. But the air of the Aegean does leave an imprint.

The express bus drove past the Kiffissa Avenue to the outskirts of Athens with high rises and then plains of Olives. This was followed by Gypsy camps. As I believed, the less magical, and more dull, outskirts towards airport with bigger roads that look similar to any big road, were not the factory zones. Greece does not have heavy industry. They were workshops or godowns.

On the road sides were many blank ad-boards (Just the way we saw blank-ad boards in Kerala sometime back). The only full board was something that said 'Casino848.com' and that could be seen on intervals. They were very old. The so called 'economic crisis', as many told me affected Greeks. The state that had become ever more dependent of service sector had to depend on the groups they were into, the EU. Public assets were getting sold off each day to cure the sickness, and people were getting ever more sick. They took to the streets several times. The Greeks express dissent. Today was such a day, tomorrow is going to be a strike.

It is possible that the big players in the EU, the Germanies, the Frances...etc. will get Greeks more on their lines. In some years the state will be completely off for people. They will get angry first and then turn themselves into some of the Gypsies I saw in the tents. They will become the new Romanian and Polish migrants for Europe.

Many more years back all that got represented as Greece was needed as 'history' for every nook and cranny of what became Europe. The French, Germans, Swedish, Norwegians, and Dutch traced their fathers back to mount Olympus and claimed to have drunk the milk of the wolf of Rome. They needed this. It has been, above all, part of one of the biggest political narratives.

Now, they need the Greeks once again, perhaps to add some competition and cut the labour costs. From the 2004 Olympics the Greeks have been once again held in thrall and the present crisis is selling them off...I feel so, I do not exactly know, but I do not want that to happen here...

...because this has been the only place away from my homeland about which I can say 'being there...'

Ummmmmmmmma
Mon Chaacha Maathu Appa