Did you know that morning glory grows out from the cracks of sidewalks and buildings in Athens? I only know this because a Brit strolled up to me asking me a slew of questions about where I’ve been, then determined I am from Michigan, and showed me how to seek and process and consume the mild psychoactive plant all within ten feet from our initial contact and within ten minutes of our meeting. The guy was a trip, all bundled up in cold weather garb and wearing a leather bombers helmet with blackened goggles dangling from his neck. I never caught how he gathered I was from Michigan but I’m convinced that I had a reputation in backpacking circles as being quite strange myself and someone could have tipped him off to be on the lookout for the Yankee Doodle carrying a pack fit for a phoney pony. I also never figured out why he had a pair of welders goggles because he vanished as quickly as he appeared. I can only imagine that he got some sort of psychedelic satisfaction from gazing at the sun through the goggles and then watching the light exposition behind his eyelids. I would be more inclined to just look dead on at the sun for a moment then cover my eyes with completely blackened shades and watch the lit up capillaries make rapid patterns of atoms and thieves meeting at the center to divide up circles disproportionately. Either way, I’m sure this gentleman and I were searching for similar results in our quest for light within the darkness.
I walked around Athens with a brooding sensation in my forehead that must’ve had me looking concerned, as if questioning my own thoughts, but poised for answers if anyone asked about those concerns. With my mental gears spinning I would have pounced on the opportunity to philosophize my new found nomad smarts. But in essence I was young and disjointed having to learn from and communicate with other young adults who may have been seeking corroboration to ease the feeling of being lost in translation when it comes to philosophy. It could’ve been I was seeking something more elaborate rather than simple. Was it natural for me to behave as an adult before my time or was it concerning to witness my substituting wit for wisdom too quickly without blending it all in with time and knowledge. People have to wake at the rate they have to wake. There is no amount of wonder that can project where one is in the dream but only where they start and end the waking process. This is a metaphor for magic where spectators see the start and finish of the trick but miss the magic in between, where only the performer knows the secret. To be alive is to be the magician making a spectacle out of the unknown. One should strive to find astonishment in their waking moments and to find wisdom upon awakening, then they can conclude that it is okay to vanish for an instant and return with answers to the mystery of the unknown and be fascinated by that.
Perhaps magic is not the correct reference point when writing about Athens because democracy originated here. There are plenty of illusions that happen behind closed doors in democratic societies. I have no desire to elaborate on politics nor the economy.
The most interesting part of Athens to me is the collosal mental processes I had because of the rich history and beauty around every corner. In some parts it was like walking around an amusement park but with authentic architecture drenched in antiquity. I would be eating lunch in a plaza and there would be a crumbled pillar, toppled over just laying there and for how long. The city reminded me of the unavoidable effects of the ravages of time, in both decay of architecture and increased corruption within government over hundreds of years.
I don’t remember the characteristics of the Athens residents which leads me to believe they were passive towards backpackers and were not entertained much by my examining their culture with no history of my own to compare. The experience prepared me greatly for my next stop to Rome where I would finally splurge on exploring every monument and museum I could within a week. Even with the respect I had for the history of these countries I had the urge to capture the experience by photographing myself in places where cameras or bodies were not allowed. The Italians and Greeks were very protective of their artifacts and restored architecture. I was not there to spy or pillage or disrespect the ancient cities but I was a bit clumsy. These cities were incredible for me to visit at that time in my life because I was thirsting for culture and answers that I was missing back home. Perhaps I will share more of what I found in a later post.
Francis Erich McElroy 