culture shock.

We just stepped into Vienna today, which deserves much - MUCH - description, but before I go there, I owe Greece a big wrap-up...

Yesterday we did the Athens tourist thing - ie, the Acropolis and all the various inclusions of the combo ticket. The ruins are really quite remarkable. It's hard - near impossible - to really fathom just how long these structures have survived, and by virture of their ancient age, how much history they've seen. To use an old cliche very appropriately - if these walls could talk. We stood atop Mars Hill, which I suppose is the typical Christian-tourist thing to do, but again, incredible to realize I was stepping in paths Paul once walked, articulating what later became one of the most profound ways I understand my faith.

We had a lovely last Greek dinner, complete w/a greek salad and (my dish) a rooster something-or-other. Yes, rooster. It tastes remarkably similar to chicken, but was served in gigantic porportion. While I'm on the topic of greek dinners, let me sidetrack just a smidge to explain what seemed a bizarre cultural practice, to my ignorant United States mind... Greek people skip breakfast, eat lunch around three and dinner around ten. TEN. We showed up to dinner at 7:45 in Santorini one night, and were told that it might be a bit early for something as heavy as Mouskassas. Of course, we were skeptical that we'd even find somewhere willing to serve us dinner so late, on such a small island! It's next to impossible to find dinner prior to seven, and we certainly received bizarre looks anytime prior to 8:30.

I know this next paragraph is horribly ethnocentric (not egocentric...), but I also know recognizing the problem is half the battle... Anyway, here goes. I've noticed that, in many ways, it seems like Greek people do little to take the simple and easy basic steps to care for their health - for example, smoking (these people truly smoke an absolutely obscene amount), eating late (important to let your food digest a couple hours before you sleep) and wearing seatbelts. Now, don't get me wrong - I'm sure there's a multitude of things Americans do that pose easily-avoidable health risks (and I know that the fact that no examples are coming to mind just perpetuates my own ethnocentricity - maybe not eating fast food...), and so perhaps my commentary is just that of an arrogant American, but I do find it interesting.

Last bit of stand-alone Greek commentary - the coffee is awful. Absolutely, completely terrible. I miss Stumptown so so much.

This morning we stepped out of Mediterrean Athens and into classy Vienna... a total culture shock. Both are so beautiful, in their own way - but those ways are very different. Vienna really is a bit of a fairy tale (Julia, I'm anxious to hear your thoughts on Vienna vs. Prague, in the fairy tale category...). Beyond the buildings being old and beautiful, and so palace/high-society looking, it's just so classy.

People here love music and art. And coffee and strudel. And horses and extravagance. For whatever reason, these things seem sophisticated to me. But not in the way that New York seems a bit sophisticated on parts of 5th Avenue, or the way Paris seems sophisticated in my mind, but like a sophisticated treasure people who've never been here don't know about. They go out to the Opera, they ride bikes (I'll write more on this fabulous element of the city momentarily), and I imagine they carry opera glasses (perhaps I'll find out on Sunday evening, when we go to the Opera!). There are beautiful stores, like Tiffany's and Cartier, and while, to some extent, it feels like such luxaries are paraded around, it doesn't seem like it's done at the expense of social equality. And maybe that's just due to my currently awe-struck vision of the city, or perhaps it's the manifestation of the real-life fairy tale in my mind. (And even so, I've seen more people on the street just today than I did in our whole two-week Greece adventure.)

Take, for example, this fun experience today... We used the public WCs (technically water closet - or, better know to us as a restroom) our guidebook recommended, primarily b/c we were curious what could possibly be so great about a bathroom that a guidebook would go to the effort of recommending such facilities (and b/c we'd drank a lot of water). I wish I'd taken pictures though... it was incredible. Each stall had its own toliet and sink - all w/in the stall. The door, walls and toilet seat were made of fine mahogany. I felt so dignified using the bathroom, of all things. And then to have the sink right there next to me! And the attendant, whom you pay 50 cents, closes the door for you... bizarre. Just downright bizarre.

The bikes - if Portlanders only knew... the sidewalks here are very wide (again, major contrast to Greece, where, if sidewalks actually existed, it was only for the duration of 20 short feet or so) - probably the width of two and half lanes of traffic. About a third of the width is designated a bike lane, and people USE it! There are tons of bikers. Every bike rack is packed, and all the bike lanes are full of girls in flowy dresses and boys in smart suits. It's lovely; very environmentally-sound, a little bit old-fashioned, and an excellent perpetuater of the Sound-of-Music stereotype.

This feels like the city where my 813-page etiquette book might come in handy. But this elegant ambiance isn't oppressive, it's just a little bit magical. I can't explain it, but I'm quickly falling in love with the city. And to think, all from a place that speaks German! A language I typically frown at the sound of... (strange how I keep falling for the german-speaking places, isn't it?)

And to compare this with Greece... night and day. In every sense of the analogy. Both night and day are good, and they need each other. Without both in moderation, our lives feel out of sync, exhausting. The night is usually a relief from the day, and vice-versa. On the one hand, it seems strange to combine these two places in one trip. On the other hand, it seems a little bit perfect.