It's a week before Christmas and Thessaloniki is covered in decorations. Almost every lamp post, shop window, and public space has a holiday flourish. It feels like a New England Christmas weather-wise, but luckily we've still been able to eat outside. We did so yesterday in temperatures below 50 degrees. Which leads to a our new favorite phrase... hot mushrooms. One of the reasons we've been able to eat outside even in the cold is that many restaurants have those umbrella-like outdoor heaters. What do you call those things? Here they call them hot mushrooms! So if the one near our outdoor table isn't flaming hot, we can ask the server--in Greek(!) "Please turn on the hot mushroom."
Because we came to Greece with only a couple suitcases, we've needed to buy a few things to make the apartment more homelike. We don't have to buy much, luckily, since our rental is furnished. It's been interesting to learn what is easy to find and what isn't. Some stuff you'd think would be a cinch, isn't. And some things you would never imagine being here is easy to find. One of my favorite Greek-lish phrases hinges on how the local says the letter 'h'. In Greek, if you pronounce it correctly it sounds sort of like a phlegmy cat-hacking-up-a-hairball-sound. If you ask a shop-owner if she has a certain product, she might tell you, in English, "We don't hxhxhave." (That's my best approximation--just imagine the cat hocking.) So here are some of the things that Greece hath or hath not...
Glass measuring cups are like hen's teeth! You know, the ubiquitous Pyrex 2-cup measures every US kitchen has? We searched all over and finally found one, but it's in English cup units rather than US cups, which makes translating some recipes tricky.
We decided that it's almost pointless to cook much Greek food at home since it's so reasonably priced and high quality at restaurants. So we're mostly setting up an Asian kitchen. We've made some nice Thai, Chinese, and Vietnamese meals because there are three shops, called Pantopolieos (which basically means Everything Shop), that have astounding stocks of obscure Asian ingredients. The selection is even better than we had in Northern Virginia, which is a great place for Asian goods. It's weird because there aren't any Thai or Viet restaurants here (unlike Northern Virginia).You can buy Indonesian chili paste or Vietnamese fish sauce, but fresh Asian vegetables are nowhere to be seen. We went on a wild goose chase in the "Chinese part of town" looking for such. Sam politely asked 3 or 4 shop owners where they buy Asian ingredients. But they spoke less Greek than us (and no English) and unfortunately seemed quite suspicious of us foreigners. So bok choy may be crossed out of our future. It's especially weird because Greeks love leaves of all sorts; many a granny forages for "weeds" (as they are known) in any vacant lot, brings them home and boils them up for lunch.
Another thing they have plenty of here is protests. We live above, arguably, the most common place for protests to start (perhaps akin to the Lincoln Monument or the Capitol Steps in DC). And almost every day, at least one banner gets strapped to the fence around the Galerius Arch bearing a message. Common protest topics are worthwhile: better treatment of refugees, anniversaries commemorating difficult times in Greek history, and women's rights. But, as is common in every country these days, protests also pop up for any new vaccination requirements. Whatever the topic, we'll see people congregate, hold up banners for photographs, then maybe someone gives a speech about the cause, and then they may or may not march on the street for a bit. Most of the events end with a quiet, orderly rolling-up of the banners that looks sort of like wrapping up your science poster after a conference session. It's interesting to see a group of people succinctly make their point and then make way for the next protest.
To end on a sweet note, here's one more thing that Greece hxhxhxhas in spades--honey. In the US, there's sometimes blossom honey or clover honey, but most commonly just plain honey (or 'raw' honey, whatever that is). That almost completes the American repertoire. In our Thessaloniki kitchen so far, we've had jars of Oak honey (didn't even know this was a thing!), Chestnut honey (ditto!), Strawberry tree honey (didn't even know there was a strawberry tree, let alone such honey), and the more normal but abnormally delicious Orange Blossom honey. And that's not even the full gamut. There's Thyme, Heather, Lavender, Pine, Fir tree, Eucalyptus, Acacia, and more. Tomorrow, I hope to acquire Carob Honey which is supposed to taste sort of like dark chocolate (and honey of course). At the friendly corner nut and honey shop (yes, really) they told us today they didn't hxhxhxhave, but they would hxhxhxhave it tomorrow.
Since our last journal entry we both managed to move up our booster shot dates. It was supposed to be in mid-January but we'll be able to get them on December 31st. Looks like a low-key New Year's Eve for us, but given the state of the world, it would have been so even if we lacked sore arms.
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| Holiday card by Gabe |
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| The Christmas tree in Aristotle Square, Thessaloniki |
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| One of the bigger protest gatherings--on a dismal, rainy night no less |
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| The inside of the Rotunda, near our house (some argue it's the oldest Christian church... but this assertion might lead to protests in certain quarters) |
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| The Rotunda |