We are all Greeks.

And other words from Athens.

Kalimera, dear readers,

I’m writing to you from a coffee shop in my neighborhood, Pagrati, just behind the Panathenaic Stadium—also known as Kalimarmaro, meaning “beautiful marble.” This big chuck of beautiful marble stands on the very site where Athenians held the Panathenaic Games in the 4th century BC, and where the modern Olympic Games were revived in 1896. The New York Times reported on the event at the time, noting: “The sight was a remarkable one, and seldom have such interest and enthusiasm been displayed over any recent event in the Grecian capital.”

Even without the thousands of spectators, it’s still a remarkable site.

The Panathenaic Stadium in Athens, Greece

Thousands of years earlier, these athletic competitions were part of Greek pagan religious festivals. I had the pleasure of visiting ancient Olympia last August, where I learned about the original games held in honor of Zeus. The Greeks believed that Nike, the goddess of victory, determined the winners of each competition, and those fortunate enough to win were rewarded with lifelong prestige and bragging rights upon returning home.

Fun fact: I recently learned that the world’s first cheesecake originated in Olympia. Greek athletes were protein-maxxing long before it was cool.

Olympia, Greece

I try to walk around Kalimarmaro every day before or after my Greek classes, which are kicking my ass—in the best way. Three hours a day of language immersion has transported me back to when I transferred from my small-town Alabama high school, where school came easily, to a prestigious boarding school in Tennessee, where I truly struggled to keep up in my AP classes. It was my first real lesson about no longer being the big fish in a small pond, and I remain deeply grateful to my teachers who pushed me to rise to the occasion and taught me that being surrounded by people much more knowledgeable than yourself is a gift.

A decade later, I’ve found myself in a similar position, still hustling to keep up, this time with my classmates—Greg from Chicago, Lloyd and Cheyenne from Australia, and Tamina from Germany. I like to call them “real-deal Greeks,” as unlike me, they all have at least one parent or grandparent who is fully Greek, but they don’t turn their noses up at me—the class mutt who is still stumbling through the alphabet.

To make myself feel better, I remind myself of the famous Percy Bysshe Shelley quote:

We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts have their roots in Greece.

Through conversations with classmates, I’ve learned about the traditional foods they grew up eating, their Orthodox upbringings, and the many ways Greek identity carries across generations. I’ve also learned that, like me, they are nearly all in their mid-twenties and recently quit their jobs, bought one-way tickets to Athens, and came here to reconnect with their heritage. Turns out I’m not the only person in the world trying to figure out their life, which is reassuring!

Outside of class (and the 3 hours of daily studying required to keep up with my class), I’ve been settling into the Greek rhythm of life: not waking up before 10:00am unless required, lingering for hours over freddo espressos or Greek coffee at cafés in my neighborhood, popping into bakeries for koulouri or spanakopita, and heading out for late dinners with new friends in Kolonaki or Plaka.

This past weekend, a group of Canadian expats who were recently evacuated to Athens from Lebanon took me under their wing and invited me along for a Friday night out. Between laughter and a few glasses of wine, we covered everything from Canada’s ban on American alcohol to their takes on the Katy Perry–Justin Trudeau love affair. But as the night went on, the conversation inevitably turned to more serious topics of war and uncertainty awaiting them back home in Lebanon. The evening made me quietly grateful for the stability in my own life, even as I live out of a suitcase, far from home.

I wish I could write more, but it’s time to head to class. Wish me luck.

Philakia,
Ali