Everyone for the most parts knows the random fact that I lived in Greece for two years during middle school. I used to talk about it all the time, well, it was my life. Every now and then I'll speak a few phrases here or there or make a joke about cultural differences, but I've for the most part readjusted to the American life (while the world view I gained has strongly dictated my life).
Upon leaving Greece I was about 75 percent fluent, not bad for two years, but I've lost quite a bit of it. When we returned to the states I started high school and began learning Spanish. It's easier to learn a third language, than second, because you know how to learn a language.
Yesterday at work I was taking an order from grandparents for their grandkids. I noticed that they were not from the states, but couldn't pin-point where. Usually I don't ask where they are from or I have a pretty good guess-timator, but for some reason I couldn't pin-point their whereabouts and decided to ask. She responded at first with, "Why?" I said I was just wondering and she said "Greece." I was thrown off for a split second cause usually my Greek-dar is really good, but I simply smiled and said I used to live there. We began conversing in Greek for a bit about different things. It was like trying to learn to ride a bike again accessing that part of the brain. I knew what I wanted to say and tried to understand what she was saying, but it's been such a long time since I've spoken real Greek to anyone (meaning I hear ancient biblical Greek phrases here and there often in the Liberty world). I reverted to some English with her and some phrases were Spanish. Literally I felt like Spanish and Greek were having a fight with each other. I was trying so hard to say something in Greek but Spanish was the only thing that was coming to mind. After a while the Greek came back with more of an ease, but I really had to think hard about it.
I still can't fathom how my grandfather spoke nine languages.
It was funny because one of my managers stood next to me and witnessed the whole thing. He commented afterwards, "Pico that was so cool! At first I thought you were speaking Spanish, then I realized I couldn't understand you." I explained, that it was indeed Greek, but the reason he thought he heard Spanish was because he did. The mind is plays interesting tricks on you!
The other thing that has struck me as strange is I have a strong desire to go back to Greece. I haven't had this desire....well, ever before. Last week in class I looked up pictures of Volos the town I lived in and couldn't stop thinking about it. I realized that I want to go back. I want to walk the streets I walked, eat at a taverna on the sea, see if the stray dogs are still alive on the same street corners, go back to Nikotsara and look at the flat I lived in above a chicken store, see the people that are still there, drink a frappe on the boardwalk....
It was home for two years of my life.
It's a port city, I lived two blocks from the Aegean Sea
A normal view while walking on the board-walk
The train station- many interesting experiences here. It was the only way pretty much in and out of the town. I always thought it looked very western.
A Greek Orthodox church on the boardwalk two blocks from my home. I also went to a wedding here.
Over Christmas break my family was telling stories about our time there and I didn't realize how much I forgot. Maybe because I was younger, maybe because some of it was slightly traumatic, or maybe there is no reason for the way the mind works.
All I know is I want to go back. I want to pick up the language again so that I speak Greek when I'm trying to speak Spanish.
I don't have a a return plan, but if anyone wants to accompany me, lemme know parakalo! :)
