“This land belongs to my ancestors!”
…said everybody, ever.
Tag: nationalism
North Korean Mass Games
If you want an existing state that’s more like Oceania than any other, look no farther than North Korea, at least as far as complete control on the population’s lives and the adoration of a leader and a banner go. The videos are literally awesome: they are awe-inspiring.
High-quality photographs and article on German photographer receiving permission to photograph the games for the first time in 2011. Softness is what killed Kim Jong-il.
Finally, and while we’re still on North Korea, it didn’t take me a lot of YouTube Hopping to reach to the following. It was too good not to post!
Genealogical Mandala
Translated by yours truly from the original article in Greek:
http://hallografik.ws/archive/?p=2775
How many were there of your parents? 2. Of your grandparents? 4. Of your great-grandparents? 8. Of your great-great-greandparents? 16.
How many generations until we reach 64? Only 7, going back roughly 150 years, if we assume that every birth comes 20-25 years after the last. At 10 generations back, not too long before the Greek Revolution of 1821, this number reaches 512. If we go another 10 generations back and touch the early 16th century, when the Ottoman Empire was at the peak of its power with Suleyman the Magnificent at its reins, when America had just started being conquered by the Spaniards and when Michelangelo Buonarroti was sweating under the ceiling of the Capela Sistina, the number of your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparents alive at the time will have already exploded to 1,048,576. At this rate, of course, and if we take into account that we humans have existed as a species for over 100,000 years (even if we steer clearly away from counting our humanoid ancestors, and before them the Common Ancestors, and before them some obscure mammals, and before them some synapsid and his lot and the beat goes on), it doesn’t take long to reach trillions of individuals and beyond, extraordinary numbers that humanity never saw, even if we put all the homo sapiens that ever lived in its history and prehistory together! To be exact, it’s said or theorised (which doesn’t count as much if you get down to it) that all of us are descended from a small group of homo sapiens that survived the last Ice Age. The answer to this apparent mystery is that there has simply been a lot of incest around — incest that we would probably not even count as such. If my great-great-great-greatgrandfather from my mother’s side was the brother of my great-great-great-great-grandmother from my father’s side, it wouldn’t remotely count as incest, etc.
Our genealogy is as mysterious and magical as is our history: we know, we can know so little about it, that we easily fill in the rest using our imagination’s colourful palette. As we do with anything unknown and mysterious, that is to say with everything.
The matter is definitely a chaotic mess. I shall incist however on the initial number. 7 generations, 64 ancestors. It seems to me like the perfect combination of control and proximity: were it larger it would soon be out of control and any form of sense of closeness to those distant ancestors would be lost; any smaller and we would lose most of the magic and complexity lying therein. Not to mention that 7 and 64 are nice, round, culturally powerful and significant numbers that please the eye, our aesthetics, and that thing deep inside of us that complains when a frame is crooked or that makes us wait observantly for the split second in which the green and red lighthouses at the entrance of the port will synchronise their flashes of different frequency.
Let us cut to the chase. In my experience, when talking nowadays about genealogy we use two terms: trees and families.
As usual, I have my objections.
The idea of using trees to describe a family when we ourselves are the trunk, as in the image above, seems strange to me. Family trees would be OK in the representational sense if we were the trunk, our roots were the ancestors and our branches and leaves were our descendants. I have never, however, seen such a tree being used for this purpose.
Next is the family, the surname. There’s something of the question “where do you come from?” nesting in their use. It took me years to understand that this question is generaly translated as “where’s your father from” and to tell you the truth, I’m not at all sure whether “from Australia!” has been the answer that all who have asked me have wanted to know, despite the almost unbearable honesty of the reply. I was born, raised, and live in Nea Smyrni, Athens, Greece, after all!
Perhaps this is happening for the same reason surnames sport certified name of origin characteristics; tell me your surname so I can tell you who, or at least where from, you are. That’s certainly half the truth — or to be exact, much, much less than half of it: only men in the genealogy share the surname, with women losing themselves in this mixture like salt in water. Many family trees even study their family’s history not based on the people but on the name, especially in older times and in noble dynasties, trying to find everyone that shares that name and are relatives or descendants, without however giving much notice to the women that joined, and still do, the family, perhaps only because of the sheer necessity of the matter. Besides, I believe it’s relevant that in much of history, definitely in Christian and Muslim history, men wanted sons so that their family as reflected through their name could endure throughout the ages.
Thus I wanted to portray the above and more in some creative and imaginative way. What I ended up with is this (as you must have noticed at the top of the article):
Why mandalas?
Mandalas are radial, symmetrical shapes, symbols of wholeness, cyclicity and at the same time of the moment, the greatness and insignificance of the now, at least in the context of the philosophy that gave birth to them, Hinduism and later Buddhism. Carl Jung was deeply inspired by them: he used to ask of his patients to draw mandalas and he later used the results as aids for his diagnoses. He believed that within the symmetry and the shapes there was a sequence to be found, a meaning to be discovered behind the use of the various drawings that they comprised. The uniqueness that emerged was, he believed, the essence of the individual him-or herself.
This clean-cut geometricity indeed has something soothing and wholesome about it; I can’t describe it any other way. Furthermore, the concepts of repetition and expansion and the one significant centre fit genealogy like a glove.
Not to mention mandalas can be stunningly beautiful.
Symbolisms
The symbolisms behind genealogy under the prism of the mandala are many and will vary depending on the person. The ones I choose, the connections I discovered that I found inspiring, are the below:
Man-woman equality
Any given great-grandmother is just as important as any given great-grandfather…
Devaluation of the surname.
Because, someone, somewhere, could have been a woman, and then I’d have a different surname, which I’d cherish as much as the one I have now…
…even if I’ve inherited my surname from that great-grandfather.
Disconnection of family history with surname history.
64 ancestors, 64 names (except if we have the cases of knowing or unknowing incest mentioned above). Only one prevails. Why?
Those 64 people your existence connected 170 years after their birth, are all equally responsible for your existence today.
Emergence of local roots and emmigration. Abolition of national false pride.
If I filled in my own mandala, one quarter of it would have lots of “Smyrni”/”Izmir” in it, which would soon dissolve in the depths of Turkey (and who knows where else… the city was the “New York of the Eastern Mediterranean” at its time, after all). Another half of it would have “Australia” writtern all over it but even that would turn into England, even Wales if my sources are correct, the further back I went. Again, who knows what else.
Who knows what 64 parts of the world I’m from?
Is one born or does one become Greek? Hm… Good question. My father got his Greek citizenship after he had lived in Greece for more than 20 years — what is he, Australian or Greek? Similarly, many 2nd generation immigrants, young and old, choose to be Greek because they were born and grew up in Greece. Their children — the 3rd generation– will probably search for the roots their grandparents abandoned by force, while they themselves will by then be indistinguishable from “normal” Greeks. This has happened countless times in Greece’s history. Before the Albanian emmigrations of the early ’90s, there had been many others, centuries ago. The same holds true for the Asia Minor Greeks who were treated like Turks when they first arrived to the shores of Attica and Macedonia but are now bragging about their “macedoniality”, even if their ancestors haven’t been living in Macedonia but for 2 or 3 generations (Google Translate is acceptable for this page), from 1922 onward. On the contrary, they might cut their emmigratory personal history short or forget it altogether as they prefer feeling descendants of Alexander than “merely” Greeks from Pontus, Asia Minor, Capadocia etc. Besides, the national sentiment must stand high and proud against the menacing FYROMites, North Macedonians or what have you… Just remember that those Macedonians might be more Macedonians than the Macedonians. Not descendants of Alexander or some other pitiful misguided conclusion, mind you, no: more Macedonians than the Macedonians because maybe their family has been living in the general region called Macedonia for centuries. Have I come across as wanting to be controversial? Mission accomplished!
Naturally, it’s not just Macedonians, Albanians, Pontians or other more recent immigrants that have decided that Greece should be their home country. Vlachs, Arvanites, North Epirotes, catholic Greeks of Syros (and other catholic islanders) and many others who were and are some of the greekest of Greeks, are now treated as minorities in the Greek state which is trying so hard to retain its purity and its Single Story. In vain of hatred, discrimination and national complexes, we all sacrifice eachother’s family tradition. We have no IDEA of our history and thus we believe the first simplistic fairytale we come across. THAT’s what national identity is about: leveling out and simplification. It’s a goat herder’s pen with the minimum common denominator of historical ignorance as its criteria. It comes as no surprise then that being historically ignorant we learn to disrescpect and even hate, again and again, generation by generation, all that is different — a deviation with which we might have common roots or even be descended from, more or less. Wise were the words of George Bernard Shaw: “Patriotism is, fundamentally, a conviction that a particular country is the best in the world because you were born in it.”
A better understanding of our individual family history can help us be a little more sceptical when dealing with simplified and kitsch national stories. It might help us see that our home town or country is of course very important when it comes to our identity but is not more than a point in time and space which is significant to us just because it is our own. In the age we are going through, let us not allow oral history, that of pain, emmigration, pain, co-existence and complexity be lost under the weight of national epics.
Never allow others to force your roots down your throat: discover them on your own.
The roots are tangled, the past is mysterious and complex.
Of course, the above isn’t at all easy to pull off. The more back we go, the more difficult –in a gemetrical progression– it becomes to keep track of everyone! Perhaps in future generations, now that we record everything, it will be easier for our great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren (if we of have any, that is, for there’s also the problems of aging population and infertility…) to find us. The cases, however, of people who are alive now and know where the ancestors of their great-grandparents were from, are few and far between. We can rarely go back more than a single century, let alone two or three. This mystery, as forbidding as it might feel, is just as worth it to embrace and accept. In the example mandalas this is clear: the 7th generation is appropriately mixed up and it becomes more obscure(?) and harder to keep track of. But that’s just the way it is.
As you set out for the Past…
Creative freedom.
I think it’s very important for us to be able to colour all aspects of life and beautify them as each one of us sees fit, for us to be free to create even with and on the simplest of things.
Mandalas don’t have too many rules and they are simple enough. I don’t believe that any special kind of artistic inclination is needed for anyone to fill in their own genealogical mandala exactly the way they like.
By far the toughest part of making our genealogy into a mandala will be to give it a soul and substance, for it to be a work as beautiful as it might be complete with meaning, a piece of cultural representation that will satisfactorily represent its own story.
I put my trust in us.
Here is a blank mandala in the circular shape of the second image. Print it out or open it on Photoshop and…
…happy creations!
99 Things I HATE! ~ Part 2
Part 1
21. I drink beverages too fast.
I sit for a coffee with friends. Sluuuurp! Up the straw it goes before anyone has even touched their own beverage of choice. It’s worse with alcoholic drinks… I don’t ever seem to realise that when it’s over, it’s over! And I just sip, sip sip the night away. I also eat and smoke faster than most people when in the company of others. It’s only then that comparison with others’ still full plates/glasses is possible and my worried, thoughtful scratching of beard is only natural. My solution? I just steal from the others’ food and drink.
22. I don’t know anything about Greek Music.
It has happened too many times to count: I’m with a big company at some taverna or place that is suitable for accommodating a number of people in the double digits. Everyone’s having fun, talking vividly and eating more vividly. Then, when everyone’s feeling cheerful, someone, somewhere, utters the words to the first song. And everyone catches on; and everyone sings along; and turn-in-turn everyone butts in with their own favourite Greek words and everyone else follows suit. It’s like that when there’s a live program as well. Guy playing the guitar, singing his songs that everyone knows. It doesn’t take much to take it out of you if you’ve drunk sufficient quantities of alcohol. “All together now!” And we all sing together.
Except me.
These songs… How should I put it. Yes. I might have heard them, I might even remember one or two lyrics just from sheer repetition (this kind of thing happens to me quite often), I usually remember the melody but I can never join the fun. Friends or acquaintances might know every single song by heart but I’m just left there to look around silently trying my best to have a good time but failing miserably, always thinking “wow. This feels so awkward. It sucks.”
Alas, such behaviours never go unnoticed. When everyone’s singing and they catch wind that I am not, they try to encourage me to join them. In the wake of their inevitable failure they look so disappointed in me, so… how should I say. There’s a certain Greek word that roughly translates into “party-pooper” and “killjoy” but lacks any of the playfulness of those two words. It’s kind of a brutal word, now that I think of it. It’s ξενέρωτος. Oh I’ve got that a lot throughout the years. I also get “you don’t know these songs?? You’re not really Greek”. I’ll let the look on my own face by this point to your imagination.
It feels as if knowing about Greek music is such a big part of our culture here that you can’t help not stick out like an alpine fox in the mud if you’ve kept well away from anything that has to do with the domestic musical product for pretty much your entire life. It’s not that I hate Greek music. I want to come to terms with it, explore and discover artists I’m bound to like or already know I like but haven’t bothered looking into more (Pavlos Sidiropoulos, Thanassis Papakonstantinou, Alkinoos Ioannidis, Lavrentis Maheritsas, works by Kavadias turned into songs). Some people in my life have helped me somewhat with discovering and getting to know some Greek music but never decisively and never beyond the realms of satisfying some of my polite curiosity. It’s that it’s polite curiosity at best.
What can I say? Maybe I’m not really Greek after all if I can’t, for the life of me, get into it all. Which is a perfect intro for my next hatred entry:
23. Nationalism.
Some Greeks call me Australian. Some (most?) Australians would call me Greek if I returned to OzzyLand. I’m really both and neither. My national identities sort of negate eachother but at the same time create a completely new existence, like a Yin and a Yang that alone are whole but together are whole-er. This may be the reason I could never exactly or comfortably identify with national ideas except for when I was only little (funny how “nationalist” children can be, or we’ve all been as children).
This open-mindedness by default comes with a cost, however. A multicultural background always helps you break through the wall of deceit but at the same time alienates you from any and all cultures you might have some heritage from including the one you were born in. You start to inhabit your own space in the cultural web, at first as little more than a means to survive but eventually enjoying this uniqueness of yours, weaving your own new threads and connections, keeping the best from both worlds and inevitably creating a new one while you’re at it.
It’s all very nice and postmodern of course but other people look at you suspiciously. You’re one of them but not exactly. Everyone must belong, granted, but you can’t seem to decide whether you belong somewhere or nowhere. An ultimate decision is unlikely. And then there comes a day when you, tired of all this vagueness, ask yourself: why must nationality form the end-all be-all criteria of “belonging” in the first place? Aren’t there more important aspects to a person?
Nationalism might be one of the things I hate the most. I’ve come to hate it so much, so deeply, I find it hard to express myself, to find words that might accurately portray how deep this hatred goes. I’ll try.
To me, nationalism is a bit like football teams (another of the 99 things, can’t be a coincidence). You support an idea or a group of people just because you belong to it. Also called ethnocentricism for us social scientists. ~^, Having a concrete sense of national identity isn’t a bad thing on its own but most usually, just like with football teams and religion for that matter, it comes with denying everyone else’s right to do exactly what you’re doing: love their country above all else. Of course, again just like football teams and religions, nations are so self-centered they believe they are the only ones in the right, that there’s only enough room for none other than themselves at the top. Nations see everyone else as threats, as others, and that alone creates a self-fulfilling prophecy; when everyone sees everyone else as a threat some kind of threat is indeed created out of thin air. Just like when two people want to trust each other but because they’re afraid that the other will not want to comply, they keep to themselves, wholly generating their own image of untrustworthiness. It’s an endless loop.
Most nations have been founded on lies we now take for granted, unshakable truths, but this isn’t the time for me to go into detail on that. I hope you can understand what I mean. Nations have only served to distill fear, isolationism and hatred into people’s hearts. As a concept they encourage people to look for differences among themselves, not similarities, at least as far as inter-national relations are concerned. The similarities that can be found in the people within the borders of the nation-state are imaginary, arbitrary and never well-defined. Naturally, universal truths like love, friendship, global or special (species-al) co-operation are the first to die for the sake of national integrity and identity. It’s not much different than the ridiculous idea of loving your video game console so much you automatically hate, out of fear perhaps, anyone who might love another console. With the difference that people have died, killed others and created complex and perfectly valid — in social terms — historical narratives to support this madness in theory as well as in practice.
It’s everywhere, from the Olympic Games and Eurovision *spit* to wars of the past and lingering ideologies. In the name of your country you might be made to feel like it’s your duty to protect it against aliens and immigrants, secure your cultural traditions and history including religion and language, avoiding to look out to the world, because you were never taught that such a thing might not be such a bad idea after all. It might be dangerous. People out there are bad, they wish nothing more than the downfall of you and your country.
I’ve seen too many people get obsessed with lies about “racial” traits (I’m tired of listening to Greeks think they’re Ancient Greeks or their descendants… SO tired…), looking back and jerking themselves off with their nonsensical grand histories so that they can avoid looking at the awful present and the grim future while still feeling as if they’re something important or special. It enables people to feel good about themselves when they’ve been good for nothing. How can ANYBODY feel special about something they never earned or fought for themselves? I suppose unhappy times call for such sad measures.
If world borders, nation-states’ cornerstones, were torn down tomorrow, it’s probable that great wars would erupt, everyone still with their mind on national interests battling it out for a better place under the sun. A world without borders would require a world without ownership, another can of worms altogether. But in a world with no nations people might eventually discover the beauty of not having to fit in, of not being caged by your parents or what part of the earth you were born in but by what your actions are.
I wish people could feel the airy and open-mind they could have instead of the musty, dark closed-mind they’ve had since forever and take sick pride in.
24. Getting distracted for hours on the net doing nothing I set out to do.
“I’m going to log-in. I’m going to check my e-mail, see Kalionatis’s site, download the notes, after that I’m going to see Tsekouras’s site and download his notes. Then I’ll do a little bit of Delphi, after that I’ll send some e-mails to my beloved friends and check out Helix’s workcamps; I really want to take part in some of those programs!”…
*Escapist* *Hotmail* *MSN* *Matador* *Cubimension, writing* *Hotmail* *Game 2.0* *XKCD* *Cubimension, reading* *MSN* *Facebook stalking — I KNOW I DON’T HAVE A FACEBOOK!* *Goodreads* *tvtropes* *Wikipedia hopping* *Random site about some random new interest of mine* *Steam offers* *IMDB* *Flickr* *Some porn site* *MSN* *Couchsurfing* *Various interesting blogs* *Youtube* *Looking into all about that new interest of mine* *Grooveshark, discovering new bands I found out about on progarchives.com and allmusic.com* *MSN* *
Dayum… what’s left to re-check and re-re-check?*
What was it that I wanted to do again?
25. Loose handshakes.
“Oh hi… I’m *insert name here*, pleased to meet you”.
Oh, how many times have people made a bad impression on me just because that first greeting was accompanied by a loose handshake and a fleeting glance? Seriously people. Look at others in the eye when you meet them. Squeeze their palm like you mean it, NOT as if you couldn’t care less. Which is probably true anyway.
26. Moving deadlines.
“OK I’ll have it ready by then”. But “then” never comes. Being a person of the absolutely utter last minute, that means that I can never get anything done, doesn’t it?
27. Delays on booting.
Black screen. Reboot. Black screen. Reboot. BIOS startup holds up at memory testing. CTRL+ALT+DEL, nothing happens. Hard reset. BIOS completes startup, then computer freezes when loading Windows. Hard reset. BIOS startup insists there’s no more than a single core in my dual-core CPU and thus refuses to continue (out of spite?). Hard reset. At last, at some point, Cuberick decides to open his eyes, sweep off his waking grogginess and serve me, more a result of luck than anything.
The funny thing is that when it’s up and running there’s no problem whatsoever. Heh. Maybe it’s like how it’s with cars where you’ve got to get the engine all warmed-up first or something. Hermes knows how on Earth I’ve resisted beating Cuberick to a pulp time after time. Not that it matters. He’s already managed to beat himself to a pulp with no further assistance needed from me.
28. Facts caught up from Wikipedia.
-“Did you know that blah-blah?”
*where blah-blah, insert your favourite fact you yourself have already read on Wikipedia but know plenty of stuff about it from non-Wiki sources*
-“Yes I did, but it sure doesn’t sound like anything you spent too much time looking into. What you did is you just presumed you’re the more informed of the two of us just because you’ve happened to have read the Wiki page. So, you see, Mr/Ms. Smartass, I’m afraid you’re not the only one around here reading and skimming pages on that site more than necessary”.
Asking further questions usually results in disappointment and less-than-accurate answers. And when it doesn’t, it feels so sterile I can almost smell the Dettol in the air.
29. It’s raining and my clothes won’t dry indoors!
I guess it happens everywhere. But my experience from Lesvos has taught me that, if it starts raining, oh, you can be certain that it won’t stop for at least the next few days. If my clothes are caught hanging to dry on their line outside during this humid time, you can foresee the rest. But if I leave them to dry inside, they may well take even longer to reach their rightful place inside by drawer! I recently wanted to wear one of my favourite sweaters. It had been hanging there to dry for at least a week on a drying rack Garret has lent me months now– I doubt he wants it back. I grabbed it, only to find that its hood was still moist! I threw it back to its place in disgust and hatred. Go to hell, humidity.
30. Losing progress in games.
Power cuts. Ancient game design. Human mistakes. “Retry” instead of “Save”. Forgetting that “this game doesn’t have autosave”. A patch destroying the previous versions savegames. Glitches and Blue Screens Of Death. Blue Screens of Death. Screens of Death.
Death.
Loss of progress in games, you’ve sent many good hours of life’s charms to gaming purgatory, to the nether-realm of human entertainment. You’ve made many a player blind with rage, unable to accept that their efforts and pain have only resulted in a mockingly not-up-to-date version of their save files. You’ve destroyed vast amounts of perfectly good faith in an equally good game, sent it down the drain, never to return, never allowing the player to give the perfectly good game another chance due to pure frustration. It’s the synonym of amnesia for gamers, the very meaning of oblivion.
If I could, loss of progress in games, I would slap you till your cheeks were raw and your voice not fit to cry for help.
…to be continued…
http://hallografik.ws/archive/?p=1275
Έχετε αναρωτηθεί ποτέ πώς φτιάχτηκε η Τουρκική σημαία;
http://politikiprotasi.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_5400.html
Δεν ξέρω αν πρέπει να γελάσω ή να κλάψω με τα παρακάτω…
Από http://media-gate.blogspot.com
Αν ξέραμε την ιστορία μας, τουλάχιστον δεν θα ανεχόμασταν τα σημερινά ξεφτιλίκια…
Αν δεν ξέρετε, ορίστε η απάντηση:
Η Τούρκικη σημαία, και το αντίστοιχο “εθνικό σύμβολο” των Τούρκων, προέρχεται από ένα σύμβολο του Βυζαντίου, αλλά της αρχαιοελληνικής πόλης Βυζάντιον, που υπήρχε στην θέση της Κωνσταντινούπολης….
Αυτό το σήμα, που είναι πανάρχαιο και απαντάται ως λατρευτικό σύμβολο της θεάς Εκάβης, έγινε σύμβολο της πόλης του Βυζαντίου όταν ο Φίλιππος, πατέρας του Μεγαλέξανδρου, προσπάθησε να καταλάβει αυτή την πόλη, και μια νύχτα με συννεφιά, έστειλε πολεμιστές (σαν καταδρομική επιχείρηση) να περάσουν τα τείχη, για να αλώσουν την πόλη.
Ξαφνικά, εμφανίστηκε το φεγγάρι, οι εισβολείς έγιναν αντιληπτοί, και αποκρούστηκε η επίθεση…. Από τότε, και επειδή θεωρήθηκε ως θεϊκή βοήθεια προς την πόλη, έγινε σύμβολο της πόλης του Βυζαντίου.
Από εκεί έμεινε ως σύμβολο παραδοσιακά και στην Κωνσταντινούπολη, το βρήκε και ο Μωχάμεντ ο πορθητής (και οι επόμενοί του), και όπως χρησιμοποίησε τα πάντα που βρήκε από τη Βυζαντινή Αυτοκρατορία, για να δώσει αυτοκρατορική χροιά στην πλιατσικολογική Οθωμανική κατάκτηση, το έκανε ένα σύμβολο της Οθωμανικής κυριαρχίας, και έτσι έμεινε ως μουσουλμανικό σύμβολο….
Διαβάστε περισσότερα: http://politikiprotasi.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_5400.html#ixzz0bUjUAgys
Για αποφυγή παρεξηγήσεων, για αυτούς που ενδέχεται να νομίζουν ότι με το να παραθέτω τα απο πάνω συμφωνώ μαζί τους ή κατα κάποιο τρόπο τα επικροτώ:
Ο συγγραφέας του απο πάνω, αν δεν έχει βγάλει αυτή την ιστορία κατευθείαν απο τα έγκατα της κοιλιάς του, το οποίο βρίσκω πολύ πιθανό απο μόνο του, καλά θα κάνει να βγει απο το εθνικοαυνανιστικό μικρόκοσμο του και να αναρωτηθεί ο ίδιος πώς ακριβώς φτιάχτηκε η ελληνική σημαία και τι συμβολίζει.
Ίσως εκπλαγεί, αν και πολύ αμφιβάλλω ότι θα επιτρέψει στον εαυτό του τέτοια διαφώτιση. Το σίγουρο είναι ότι το θέμα δεν είναι όσο ξεκάθαρο όσο το παρουσιάζει.
Μερικά links για προσωπική έρευνα και συμπεράσματα:
Πολιτισμική σχέση Ελλάδας και Τουρκίας — Ιστορικό υπόβαθρο
Αυτό το κείμενο αρχικά ήταν μέρος του ανερχόμενου “Πέντε νύχτες στο Ίστανμπουλ (και μία στο Αϊβαλί)” αλλά άρχισα να γράφω, να γράφω, να γράφω… Τελικά αποφάσισα ότι θα ήταν καλύτερο σαν ξεχωριστό post.
Στην Κωνσταντινούπολη και στην Τουρκία γενικότερα, ένοιωσα κάτι αρκετά παράξενο. Ένοιωσα λες και όλα ήταν οικεία… αλλά ταυτόχρονα ξένα. Η συμπεριφορά των ανθρώπων και πράγματα τα οποία δεν θα περίμενες να βρεις εκτός Ελλάδας έκαναν την εμφάνιση τους παντου. Περίπτερα δίπλα σε τζαμιά με πανύψηλους μιναρέδες, τούρκοι που έπιναν τσαί αντί για φραπεδούμπα (nescafe: το μόνο αγαθό πιο ακριβό στην Τουρκία παρα στην Ελλάδα) παίζοντας tavla (τάβλι). Ήταν σαν μία Ελλάδα η οποία θα είχε επηρεαστεί για αιώνες απο την κουλτούρα του ισλαμικού κόσμου…
Οι Έλληνες έχουμε μια παράξενη ιδέα για τον εαυτό μας. Νομίζουμε πως απο την αρχή του χρόνου έχουμε υπάρξει ως μία ενιαία φυλή-κράτος-έθνος-θρησκεία-πολιτιστική οντότητα. Απο την αρχαιότητα μέχρι σήμερα, οι έλληνες έτρωγαν σουβλάκι, έπιναν ούζο, χόρευαν συρτάκι, παίζαν μια αρχαία παραλλαγή του μπουζουκιού σε σχήμα λύρας και φυσικά λάτρευαν τον Χριστό με την μορφή του αγνώστου θεού. Αν πάρουμε ως δεδομένη την ιστορία που διδασκόμαστε και πιάσουμε τα υπονοούμενα, οι κάτοικοι της Ελλάδας εδώ και 3500 χρόνια περίπου δεν έχουν αλλάξει σχεδόν καθόλου σε εθνολογική και φυλετική σύσταση.
Το ότι η Ελλάδα δεν υπήρξε ως “Ελλάδα” μέχρι το 1828 δεν φαίνεται φυσικά να πτοεί κανέναν. Το ότι Ρωμαίοι, Ανατολικοί Ρωμαίοι (Βυζάντιο), Σλάβοι, Ενετοί, Φράγκοι, Λατίνοι διαφόρων είδών, Εβραίοι και Οθωμανοί έχουν ζήσει και συμβιώσει με χριστιανούς και άλλους ελληνόφωνους απο την περίοδο της αρχαιότητας μέχρι και σήμερα στον Ελλαδικό Χώρο φαίνεται μια ασήμαντη υποσημείωση. Κι όμως. Αν σκεφτούμε ότι τα απο πάνω δεν είναι έθνη αλλά αυτοκρατορίες και ομάδες ανθρώπων οι οποίες ομαδοποιούνται σύμφωνα με πολιτισμικά και όχι φυλετικά στοιχεία, καταλαβαίνουμε τι παρτούζα τυριών, κοινώς fondue, αποτελεί την φυλετική καθαρότητα της σύγχρονης Ελλάδας.
Δεν μπορώ να πω πολλά για το πόσο οι κάτοικοι του Βυζαντίου αυτοπροσδιορίζονταν ως Έλληνες, γιατί δεν ξέρω πολλά για αυτό. Ξέρω όμως πώς για πάνω απο 1000 χρόνια δεν υπήρχε Ελλάδα, παρα μόνο Ρώμιοσύνη. Μάλιστα, η Ελλάδα σαν έννοια ήταν ταυτισμένη με τον ειδωλολατρισμό, την αρχαία φιλοσοφία, την δημοκρατία και όλα αυτά τα αρχαιοελληνικά, τα οποία δεν είχαν θέση σε μια χριστιανική αυτοκρατορία. Οι κάτοικοι, λοιπόν, δεν αυτοπροσδιορίζονταν ως Έλληνες αλλά ως Ρωμαίοι ή Ρωμιοί. Αξίζει να αναφέρω ότι ο όρος “Βυζάντιο” πρωτοχρησιμοποιήθηκε τον 16ο αιώνα για ιστορικούς σκοπούς (ευχαριστώ τον Άρη που μου πρωτομίλησε για αυτό).
Αυτοκράτωρ Πιστός Βασιλεύς Ρωμαίων… Αγιά Σοφιά
Όταν οι Οθωμανοί κατέκτησαν το Βυζάντιο τον 14ο και 15ο αιώνα, κατέκτησαν τα εδάφη αυτού που σήμερα ονομάζουμε Ελλάδα μαζί με τους χριστιανούς κατοίκους της. Πόσο διαφορετικό όμως είναι αυτό απο την κατοχή του χώρου απο μια Ρωμαίκη ηγεσία; Για σκεφτείτε. Η Ελλάδα σαν Ελλάδα υπήρξε θεωρητικά ελεύθερη μόνο κατα την αρχαιότητα. Απο τότε μέχρι το 1828 υπήρξε κατακτημένη απο αυτοκρατορίες μη “ελληνικές”. Η Ρωμαική και μετέπειτα “Βυζαντινή” Αυτοκρατορία κυριάρχησε στην Ελλάδα για σχεδόν μιάμισι χιλιετία. Τόσο πολύ κράτησε αυτή η κυριαρχία που διαμόρφωσε ριζικά τον πολιτισμό των κατοίκων των εδαφών της. Το ότι επελέγη η ελληνική γλώσσα σαν επίσημη στην αυτοκρατορία παίζει πολύ μεγάλο ρόλο σε αυτό, αφού επιλέχθηκε με βάση την διάδοση της στον λαό, εις βάρος φυσικά των ιερών λατινικών. Αυτό το βήμα ήρθε σχεδόν μία χιλιετία νωρίτερα απο το υπόλοιπο της Ευρώπης.
Με την επιλογή των ελληνικών ως γλώσσα, το Βυζάντιο έγινε μια για πάντα “δικό μας”. Εντυπώθηκε ανεξίτηλα σε όλες τις συλλογικές πολιτισμικές μνήμες του ελλαδικού χώρου. Αν δεν είχε γίνει αυτή η επιλογή, η αλλαγή της γλώσσας, δεν θα ήταν δικό μας. Και φυσικά ότι είναι δικό μας, είναι ολοκληρωτικά δικό μας. Δικός μας είναι ο χριστιανισμός, δικιά μας είναι η Κωνσταντινούπολη, δικιά μας ολόκληρη η Ανατολία!
Οι Οθωμανοί ήρθαν και το πήραν αυτό το δικό μας, και κυρίευσαν στον πρώην ρωμαικό χώρο για περίπου 400 χρόνια. Όμως, σε πλήρη αντίθεση με την καθοριστική 1500ετή κυριαρχία των ρωμαίων, σύμφωνα με την επικρατούσα αντίληψη αυτά τα 400 χρόνια ήμασταν σκλάβοι. Δεν υπήρξε καμία πολιτισμική ζύμωση απο τους Τούρκους προς τα εμάς. “Χάσαμε 400 χρόνια”, λένε πολλοί για την κατάσταση της Ελλάδας μετα-οθωμανικά. Αναρωτιέμαι εδώ: αν η τουρκοκρατία είχε διαρκέσει και αυτή 1500 χρόνια, θα είχε καταφέρει να καθορίσει πιο ολοκληρωτικά την ελληνική συνείδηση και εν τέλει να την διαμορφώσει σαν πλαστελίνη, όπως έγινε με το Βυζάντιο;
Έχουμε ελάχιστα αρχαιοελληνικά στοιχεία στην σύγχρονη κουλτούρα μας, και όσα έχουμε είναι αντιδάνεια. Οι Βυζαντινοί και οι χριστιανοί στην τουρκοκρατία δεν ενδιαφέρονταν για την Αρχαία Ελλάδα και τα ιδανικά της: οι μεν έκλεισαν την Ακαδημία, κατέστρεψαν την αρχαία πολιτιστική κληρονομιά ενώ οι δε ξεπούλαγαν ό,τι είχε απομείνει για πενταροδεκάρες στους ευρωπαίους. Η επιστροφή στις ρίζες ήρθε στο προσκήνιο μόνο μετά τον Διαφωτισμό και ήταν επακόλουθο (με την γέννηση του ρομαντικού εθνικισμού) να εξαπλωθεί και στην τότε υπόδουλη χώρα και να ανάψει τα αίματα. Ούτε πολλά στοιχεία του Βυζαντίου έχουμε κρατήσει, αν εξαιρέσει φυσικά κανείς τον χριστιανισμό και την πλειάδα ηθών και εθίμων τα οποία δεν χάθηκαν και έφτασαν στα χέρια μας αρκετά αναλοίωτα απο τότε.
Και επιτέλους, μετά απο αυτό τον αρκετά μακρύ πρόλογο, έρχομαι στο θέμα μου. Η “τουρκοκρατία” διαμόρφωσε την σύγχρονη ελληνικη ταυτότητα πολύ περισσότερο απ’όσο θέλουμε να πιστέψουμε. Το υποψιαζόμουν και πριν το ταξίδι μας αυτό, αλλά ζώντας την Κωνσταντινούπολη απο κοντά δεν έχω πλέον αμφιβολία. Οι μικρές πτυχές της καθημερινότητας στην Τουρκία μαρτυρούν περίτρανα το προφανές: περίπτερα, κράχτες παντού (στην Ελλάδα έχουμε εξευρωπαϊστεί πια και το έχουμε ξεπεράσει κάπως αυτό), κλαρίνα και αραβικοί ρυθμοί στην ποπ μουσική, κωμική ανυπακοή σε πρακτικούς νόμους (βλέπε απαγόρευση καπνίσματος… ας πούμε), μεγάλες οικογένειες με αλληλουποστηριζόμενα μέλη (“θα σε πάω στου μπαντζανάκη μου, έχει μια καταπληκτική ταβέρνα…”) και… μεγαλύτερες οικογένεις: διαφθορά, πελατειακές σχέσεις, ρουσφέτια. Αν πιάσω τις κουζίνες; Μπακλαβάς, τζατζίκι, μουσακάς, γύρος, ντολμαδάκια… Μπορώ να αναφέρω τουρκο-ελληνικές λιχουδιές μέχρι αύριο! Αν υπάρχει ένα στοιχείο όμως το οποίο να αποδεικνύει ακράδαντα την πολιτισμική μας συγγένεια πρώτου βαθμού με την Τουρκία είναι η γλώσσα.
Lukumια…
Είναι αυτό που μου έκανε μεγαλύτερη εντύπωση. Έβλεπα τόσες άσχετες λεξούλες τις οποίες μπορούσα να καταλάβω που αποφάσισα (μετά την δεύτερη μέρα) να τις σημειώνω. Θα τις αναγράφω όπως τις έβλεπα και με την ελληνική προφορά σε παρένθεση. Τα συμπεράσματα δικά σας…
huzur (χουζούρ)
tavan (ταβάν)
baklava (μπακλαβά)
boya (μπογιά)
gişe (γκισέ)
markuç (μαρκούτς)
nargile (νάργκιλε)
portokal (πορτοκάλ)
fistık (φιστίκ)
peşkeş (πεσκές)
ispanak (ισπανάκ)
havuzu (χαβούζου)
kuru (κουρού… αυτό νομίζω ότι σημαίνει καυτερό)
yuvarlak (γιουβαρλάκ)
bürek (μπουρέκ)
buyum (μπουγιούμ = μεγάλο. Παραπέμπω στην λέξη “μπούγιο”)
küçük (κουτσούκ = μικρό. Παραπέμπω στην λέξη “κούτσικο”)
peçet (πετσέτ)
kese (κεσέ)
sakula (σακούλα)
çay (τσάι)
kurasan (κουρασάν, χωρίς πλάκα, έτσι το λένε)
mantar (μαντάρ = μανιτάρι)
karida (καρίδα = γαρίδα)
pancar (παντζάρ)
marul (μαρούλ)
çipura (τσιπούρα)
bayrak (μπαϋράκ)
çoban (τσομπάν)
bodrum (μποντρούμ)
dolma (ντολμά)
fidan (φιντάν)
barut (μπαρούτ)
tufek (τουφέκ)
pilaf (πιλάφ)
cacik (τζαντζίκ)
musaka (μουσακά)
meze (μεζέ)
rakı (ρακί)
lukum (λουκούμι)
kahve (καχουέ)
Σχετικά με τον καφέ, θα ήθελα να αναφέρω ότι διαδώθηκε στην Δυτική Ευρώπη απο την Οθωμανική Αυτοκρατορία, και απο αυτή την λέξη υπάρχουν όλα τα ευρωπαικά παράγωγα… Ο ελληνικός καφές λεγόταν τούρκικος μέχρι το 1974, μέχρι που έγινε η εισβολή στην Κύπρο και στην Ελλάδα άλλαξαν το όνομα για λόγους μαρκετινγκ και απο τότε έμεινε… Αυτό σύμφωνα με την Wikipedia.
Εκεί που θέλω να καταλήξω: υπάρχουν πάρα πολλές αναφορές σε σχέση με την Αρχαία Ελλάδα προ Χριστού. Όμως, το τι πραγματικά έγινε στoν πολιτισμό στον οποίο οφείλεται, υποτίθεται, η Αναγέννηση και ο Διαφωτισμός, κατα την διάρκεια αυτών, δεν αναφέρεται στα βιβλία ιστορίας και δεν συναντάται επισήμως στην ελληνική ταυτότητα, παρα μόνο (λίγο πλέον) στην λαική παράδοση. Είναι τόσο μεγάλο μέρος του ποιοί είμαστε στ’αλήθεια. Όμως όχι μόνο το αγνοούμε, το απαρνιόμαστε. Αντι αυτού, προτιμάμε φυσικά την εξέχουσα παγκόσμια θέση που μας προσφέρει ο τίτλος της “πατρίδας του πολιτισμού”. Επιμένουμε να βλέπουμε σκιές του παρελθόντος για να νοιώθουμε λίγο καλύτερα με το αστείο το οποίο σήμερα λέγεται Ελλάδα. Πού είναι ο σημερινός πολιτισμός; Πού είναι η σημερινή Ελλάδα που όλοι καμαρώνουν ότι είναι η γεννέτειρα του; Όλοι ξέρουμε (ή τουλάχιστον λέμε πως ξέρουμε με αστειάκια του στυλ “Μεγάλοι Έλληνες”, λες και η πλειοψηφία των ελλήνων ξέρει τι έλεγε ο Αριστοτέλης ή ο Πλάτωνας…) για τον Leonidas, την Ακρόπολη και τους Ολυμπιακούς Αγώνες, θέματα ελάχιστης σημασίας για τον σύγχρονο έλληνα αν το καλοσκεφτούμε, ενώ κανείς δεν ξέρει πώς ακριβώς αρχίσαμε να λέμε “ντουγρού” και γιατί ο πρώην πρωθυπουργός μας λεγόταν Καραμανλής.
Αυτή η υποκρισία είναι κάτι το οποίο κατακρίνω και θα κατακρίνω. Όπως λέει και η Αλεξάνδρα “είναι σαν να είσαι εσύ κακάσχημος και να περηφανεύεσαι που ο παππούς σου ήταν πανέμορφος”. Το μόνο που κάνεις είναι να θαυμάζεις τον παππού σου, να ξεχνάς τους γονείς σου, και να μην κάνεις τίποτα για να γίνεις εσύ ο ίδιος καλύτερος… Το μόνο που καταφέρνουμε είναι να διαιωνίζουμε ένα κατασκευασμένο μίσος και πεισματικά να κοιτάζουμε τις διαφορές μας, αγνοώντας πλήρως τις σημαντικές και αξιοσημείωτες ομοιότητες ή και επιρροές οι οποίες διαφαίνονται μετά απο 400 χρόνια συμβίωσης.
Ένα ενδιαφέρον link, το οποίο αν και δεν συμβαδίζει πλήρως με τις ιστορικές απόψεις τις οποίες εκφράζω, έχει αξία στο πώς προβάλει την ποικιλότητα των φυλών που απάρτιζαν την Ρωμιοσύνη και την περιπλοκότητα του θέματος. Για πολύ λίγους, και κατα πάσα πιθανότητα ούτε καν εμένα. http://drgvichia.blogspot.com/
Plus*2/Minus*2 Summer Edition! Part 1
Kalo mina. It is September already, isn’t it. I’ve been writing up the following post for almost a month now. Day by day, hour by hour even, more and more stuff is added to this list. I can’t keep up anymore! Originally this was intended to be a complete ++– of my summer highlights… This is quickly becoming overwhelming, what with the summer not being over yet and bits and pieces of my life constanstly becoming potential highlights. I will post what I’d already written weeks now and see how it goes. Oh and I’ll start with the most recent ++, what took most of my time these days actually.
~
August.The cicadas are chirping, Taurus and Orion have just started to appear a few hours before dawn, summer is depressingly close to its end. Depressingly? This word is up for discussion. Yes, I do agree that summer is almost over and that that is generally considered a bad thing but no bad thing has ever come with no benefit; autumn is right around the corner and along with it comes everything that symbolises our hopes, plans and process of renewal. Everything flows, said Iraklitos (and the Book of Change).
Enough with this little introduction. What I want to share with this post is the good, the bad, the attrocious and the fantastic of this year’s summer, which (for good or bad, you decide in the end!) is over in a few weeks, at least theoretically (cause really, who knows till when the weather’s going to be happy this time around?) In short, I’m giving you another Plus*2/Minus*2. And this one is going to be loooong!
Flash, Grafistiki and September Exams
This year the comeback to Mytilini has come earlier than usual. I had long decided that this time I would stand 100% ready for the upcoming exams. I would study a lot, do all my projects in time etc. August 21st was the day we returned to the island. Happy Rock Band 2, Mordread’s birthday and Alex’s nameday aside, it hasn’t been all that fun for me! First thing I wanted to do was complete my Flash/Grafistiki project. A couple of bucketfuls of tears of *insert feeling here* later (including joy, frustration, achievement and despair) and stinking my chair from sitting in it for tens of hours, I can proudly say that today, just in time too, I presented my work to Myrsini. And it was good! It has got to be one of my most advanced works to date. It being in Flash makes it even more impressive of course. I invite you all to have a look and tell me what you think:
www.hallografik.ws/oldstuff/grafistiki
This, of course, is only a sign of things to come. I can stand proud, can’t I??
Today was special in another way as well. I sat for another two subjects, namely Java and Image Editing. Too much effort put into the Flash Project, of course I didn’t have the time to study them properly. Yet I didn’t do all that badly. I think it’s been a successful day… But I REALLY WANNA PLAY SOME GAMES! I MISS THEM. And even though Alexandra is around and has helped me considerably with housework, cooking, cleaning, relaxing, keeping in touch with the real world etc… I do not think we’re spending our time together as we should be. I mean…
…nah, this is another highlight in its own right.
Salonica: City of Ghosts, by Mark Mazower
I finished reading this book in June. I must have mentioned it before, or maybe it was Mazower’s “The Balkans”, a short introduction to the regional history, especially during Ottoman times. “Salonica” is similar. It takes you from the creation of the city in ancient times to what it is today, focusing on its multicultural identity during Ottoman rule (1430-1912) and until the Second World War and the jewish holocaust which killed a significant part of the population.
Did you know that Thessaloniki was only founded after the death of Alexander the Great? Kassandros, the guy who got in charge of the province of Macedonia after Alexander’s death, named this newly founded town after his wife Thessaloniki, daughter of Philip II and thus Alexander’s sister. So why the statue of Alexander in the centre of the city? Why has the city been so closely connected to Macedonia and indeed Alexander?
Did you know that in the 16th century thousands of sephardites, jews that were pursued out of Spain, emigrated into Salonica? They remained the majority (!) of the city, with muslims coming second and christians (greek and slav speaking) third. These jews really considered Salonica their home, they spoke a strange dialect of spanish changed throughout the years from their contact with turkish and greek. During the Second World War most were killed by Nazi Germany and their plan to eradicate the world’s jews (along with other unwanted elements).
Did you know that Salonica became a greek city in 1912? The greek revolution may have happened in 1821 but before 1912 the modern greek state’s borders had not yet changed into the form we know them today. Salonica, along with most of the Eastern Aegean islands and later Thrace, were conquered in the First and Second Balkan Wars by the Greek Army. Salonica wasn’t a particularly greek city before that. As I said, greeks were the minority. However, within 10 short years and after the Population Exchange that made all the muslims leave the city, Greece used the poor immigrants from Asia Minor, some of which did not even speak greek, to effectively “hellenize” its newly conquered territories with christians. Descendants of Macedonians? I don’t think so.
The rest is, as they say, history. Leaving 400 years of (mostly) peaceful and tolerant coexistance behind, the greeks swiftly destroyed everything that would remind them of “the dark ages”. A lot of the historical city centre was burnt in the Great Fire of 1917, however most buildings that had survived did not make it into contemporary, metropolitan Salonica. The “neogreeks” of course have dug up any roman or byzantine (to be fair, Thessaloniki was an important byzantine town, with Ayios Dimitrios and everything…) building that is possible to find, at the same time trying to hush-hush, forget and destroy history, situations and buildings much more relevant to the Greece of today and not the Greece we would like to once have existed.
“Salonica: City of Ghosts” tells a story you’re not likely to hear. It tells of Salonica’s cosmopolitan days, of when it was a crossroads of cultures. A true multi-culti gem. It was a book that gave me a brand new perspective on matters with superb research and excellent, gripping writing. It made me want to visit Thessaloniki, even if the Thessaloniki it desribes is long part of the past…I recommend it to anyone who might want to study revisionist greek history but also the history of the Balkans or the Ottoman Empire.
Did you know that the White Tower was an Ottoman prison?
June Exams
I can say that I was quite satisfied with my exam results. I did not sit for many subjects. In fact, 2 of them I sacrificed in order to have time to go to Rodos in mid-June. For those I did sit for, however, I could not have gone better! Stefanos and me, together with the –let’s face it– minor contribution of Anna and Vasilis, worked on a Flash application during May and June that represents the various kinds of relationships students have with Ermou St. in Mytilini. This was for Cultural Representation II. It gave us a straight 10, for all its misgivings (I’ll make sure to upload it in the main site as soon as possible!) This project’s design along with some personal graphic designs scored me another 10 in the respective subject.
Last but not least, I got another 10 at perhaps my favourite subject last term: Cutural Industries and Digital Culture. Despina Catapoti was our mentor, a great person and teacher! She turned the subject I failed one year ago into a fresh, postmodern-counterculture-philosophical experience! I got a 10 for my answers to the inspired, open-ended test. But I give her a 10 as well for her very interesting, knowledgeable lectures and her special way with the students. I can only say that I cannot wait to learn beside her once more come Spring.
I got a 2.5 at Montage and that thanks to the… interesting video Garret and me made one day at the lighthouse. 😛 Otherwise I would have got a 0. I’ll be quietly sitting for this one soon.
Counting Sheep, by Paul Martin
Picking up books on random, fascinating subjects as I sometimes do, this summer I got a book on sleep called “Counting Sheep”. Alexandra used to mistakenly call it “Science of Sleep”, like the movie. I thought it was funny mixing the two names up! On a side note, we still haven’t watched “Science of Sleep” in its entirety.
“Counting Sheep” is the ultimate book on this 1/3 of our lives when we “go comatose while hallucinating vividly”. REM sleep, which is the scientific term for dreams, actually occurs for just 25% of sleep in adults. The rest is NREM (non-rapid eye movement) sleep. This is the wiki on NREM, pretty interesting. NREM is vastly different from REM in many aspects, in fact brainwaves during this state are much more characteristic than the respective REM ones (which are, unsurprisingly, similar to our waking state ones). Our sleep can thus be divided into two distinct states which leads to the conclusion that we go through three unique cycles, not just two: waking state, NREM and REM. Each cycle of sleep roughly comprises 90 minutes, going through the 4 stages of NREM sleep and finishing with REM. A typical night’s sleep will consist of 5-6 cycles…
…I can’t stop! Here I am typing scientific stuff about sleep from the top of my head. I could go on. But “Counting Sheep” is not just excellent explaining how sleep works. It goes through all kinds of culture that has been created around sleep, beds, caffeine, dreams, lucidity, sleep disorders, it tells tales of horrible sleep-deprivation and resulting torture, it outlines how sleep works in animals (every single living being, even bacteria, display some kind of low-activity cycle — dolphins sleep one brain hemisphere at a time!) and perhaps most important of all, it definitely proves that sleep is not only important, it is also a luxury and a pleasure unsung for – nevermind the ridiculous numbers of relevant William Shakespeare quotes.
“Counting Sheep” makes you want to rush to your bed, hug your pillow, rub your feet under the quilt, hang a hammock from the trees outside your door or in case you have no trees plant a couple for this very purpose. It makes you cherish your only pure and unfiltered existence and not feel guilty about that couple of extra hours under the blanket. This book proves that the world would be a much, much better place if only politicians, drivers and nuclear reactor operators took their40 winks more seriously. If you, like all too many of us these days, think that sleep is nothing but wasted time, you ought to make yourself a favour and read this!
Gytheio
Urk. Gytheio is supposedly the correct way of writing the greek town name in English. But you pronounce it “Yithio”!
Anyway, I went for 3 days and 2 nights to Gytheio to find Fanis and a couple of his friends who were camping there and stay with them. It was fantastic! I had only ever camped once in my life before (Bouka Beach Club! Savi, Tousis!) and it was great, not to mention 3 years ago. So I had a great, fantastic time camping again.
The beer was cheap, the friends’ friends I met there were pretty interesting and unique people (a 15-year-old bassoon-player rocker anime lover? A 17-year-old who was exactly like Garret in almost every way, except he liked One Piece and played the clarinet and was thus also musically inclined), everyone was relaxed but also cheerful and funny. I was at peace.
On the first night it was full moon. We made a fire on the beach, just like the second night. On the first one though we also went for a swimin the sea right in front of the fire. The moonlight was so bright and the sea so calm I could literally see the sandy bottom. But it wasn’t like looking at it under daylight. It was different, it was magic. I felt the sea different in spacial kind of way, as if I could really feel how deep it was or that I was actually floating in it at that point. It was truly something else.
Alina, another member of our charming little party, showed me her father’s camera. It was a Nikon F301 he’d had for almost 25 years! The sound of the shutter, the complete lack of electronics, the large viewfinder, the sturdy lens… It certainly didn’t take me a lot of messing around with it for me to realise that I NEEDED ONE OF THESE! So, oh what surprise, ever since I got back from Gytheio and that’s 11 days already, I’ve been hunting…
Camping is probably the best type of holiday. Not a care in the world, total relaxation, socialising, enjoying nature. Sleeping in a boiling tent just might be the highlight. I’m already looking forward to doing some more.
Deutsch
Dieser Sommer ich habe gedacht:”Ich hatte genug!” Danach habe ich mehr Deutsch studieren. Ich will das Zertifikat in Januar bekommen. Ehrlich gesagt hoffe ich, dass ich nicht zu faul bin… Mama ist aber eine gute Lehrerin!
KTEL 
Buses have become, or have always been, I’m not really sure, the main means of transportation for those who want to go from one greek city to another. But they are so bad. The stations are dirty, the drivers are rude, the schedule is seriously strange, and the bastards have made it so that you can’t find out when your bus is leaving unless you call a high-cost helpline! They’ve even removed lists and schedules from the internet, at least from what I’ve seen.
Even more worrisome is the fact that there are no plans of expanding the train lines in any part of Greece. Actually, OSE announced during the summer that they are changing their routes so that only connections between the main cities are properly serviced. Where is the environmental planning? Where is ANY kind of planning at all? If you could go anywhere, anywhere at all, just by hopping on a bus, things would be different. If they weren’t so polluting or if the drivers were a bit more considerate about their clients music tastes, things would be different. But they aren’t. And as it is, people like me that object to owning a car have little choice. It’s depressing…
At least the tickets are relatively cheap. For now…
To be continued… with more amazing ‘s and even juicier
Plus*2/Minus*2
I’m reading a book written by a spectacularly honest frenchman titled “How to talk about books you haven’t read”. In this book, among many other things, he says that a lot of authors refer to books they might have skimmed through or even not read at all. He uses a system within his own book that puts a certain tag next to each book he refers to, ranging from. He also uses a rating system from ++ to — to express his opinion on the particular book.
In detail, ++ is extremely positive opinion, + is positive opinion. – and — are negative and extremely negative opinions respectively. I think this system is perfect for sharing your disposition to something without having to use a 1-10 or 1-100 system. I hate it when people ask me to rate a girl, game, movie, or just about anything from 1 to 10. What’s a 1? Even more importantly, what’s a 10? Can you rate anything with a 10 without having any doubts about whether anything will surpass it, ever? Everything in life is experiences, including all the above, and experiences are rating-proof! By the way, before any of you say it: Yes, since the YRS (Yummers Rating System) is a 1-10 deal, I have concluded that it too is incomplete and needs revision.
I like the ++ to – – so much that I’ll use just it to describe what’s going on in my life at the moment by how much I like it!
++
Paradox Interactive. These guys are one of the best studio/publisher around. I’m seriously hooked with Europa Universalis III and Victoria. Hearts of Iron looks like a thing to check out soon (what am I saying, I already own two copies! I’m not going into detail with that, I want to forget…)
CouchSurfing. I just hosted an Italian guy, his name is Duan. 2 nights it was. I had almost forgot how nice and cozy hosting makes you feel, especially when it’s people you’d easily make friends with but will probably never appearin your life again.
SPACED!! After Hot Fuzz and Dawn of the Dead (I mean, um, a couple of years before those), comes Spaced. It’s awesome, pure awesome, and I recommend it to anyone who has a thing for cleverly stupid humour. Anger, Pain, Fear, Aggression…
Jose Saramago. This guy is quickly, and I mean quickly, becoming my favourite writer. Period. I couldn’t resist and gave ~100 euros to get 5 of his books together (along with the book I mentioned first and 1984). Which brings me to…
1984, by George Orwell. It shocked me. A masterpiece of 20th century literature. I may write something on it one day…
+
Soon I’ll be translating and subbing eco films, and not for free! I am excited for what may be my first paid job.
The Balkans, by Mark Mazower. An excellent read on the real side of “European Turkey”.
I’m entering a Guitar Hero contest. Yay?!
I’m learning Japanese… And want to learn Turkish. I want to communicate with the world! Is it normal that I’m only learning the languages of the… “bad guys” (plus german)?
We dressed up as vampires with Alex. It had been so long since I had done something like that…
In January we made a little cut-out animation for uni. It’s not completely ready yet so don’t expect to have a look if you haven’t already! 😛 It did turn out well though…
–
My money is running low much faster than would be desirable, even if we eat everyday at the Uni with Mario!
I still think I have no certain purpose or goals. That I’m not really good at anything but only mediocre in lots of things. Same applies to everything. Is this good or bad in the end?
Nationalistic idiots annoy me.
Pop songs that use Beethoven’s 9th also annoy me.
Waking up early to catch those pesky morning lectures is always a problem… So it is now!
No time for everyone that I would like to have more of in my life… You know who you are.
– –
Keeping my house clean is a nightmare.
Rain and cold. Cold and rain. And no central heating This pretty much sums up 2009’s weather up till now. And for the past week, it’s extreme rain and cold. Where’s summer? Where’s the sun?! I seriously don’t believe I’m uttering these words…
Every time it rains, my second room gets flooded. Argh! How can people be so stupid they mess up a balcony this much?
I hate the announcements in the ships. All of them. Lissos, Mytilini especially. I want to kick the (taped) announcers to death. Yes, that’s how much I hate them.