Is the economic crisis partially rooted in “philotimo”?

Look up the Greek word philotimo and you will find one of the longest entries in your dictionary. Ask a Greek what he means by philotimo and you will see this dictionary  entry personified. The individual you have chosen to ask will most likely embark upon a lengthy oration, emphatically waving his hands to illustrate his points. He will probably endeavor to elucidate this term via a series of personal examples. A taxi driver returning the iPhone lodged between the seat cushions, or a street vendor tracking down the customer who had given him a fifty instead of a five. There’s probably the story of the breathtaking young wife who never dreamed of straying from her marriage vows, even while her husband was away at war. Or you might get the one about the brother who would bring fresh flowers once a week to his sister’s bedside.

Philotimo is a term that simply does not translate into English. You will find yourself engaging in a Charades-like conversation, as you exclaim words like “integrity!” and “self-esteem!” and “honor!” You will run out of guesses before long, and your Greek counterpart will grow frustrated of shaking his head. Apparently, English will somehow never do justice to the implicit meaning of philotimo.

How does philotimo translate?

I came across an article written almost half a century ago, containing a definition that resonates strangely today. According to distinguished scholar Admantia Pollis, philotimo involves the idea of the individual as an integral part of a pre-existing organic system. It entails the fundamental understanding that the greater entity to which an individual belongs– whether that be his network of extended family, his neighborhood community, or his church community– demands certain behavior of him. Rather than aspire to fulfill his own desires and aspirations, the individual should strive to fulfill his role within this group. In other words, according to this particular definition, philotimo is a view of self that repudiates individual autonomy, demanding instead a steadfast devotion to the group.

Perhaps today’s crisis is partially rooted in this intrinsic cultural understanding. Grounded in the underlying assumption that one must look out for one’s own, Greek political culture is riddled with patronage systems and clientelism. Kinship systems often remain perfectly intact as they transpose themselves into the business world or the political realm. In fact, the professional world is replete with obvious examples of this. Diaplekomena symferonta, or interlinked interests, is the term scholars use to refer to the opaque links between powerful private firms and the leading political parties.

My “Charades teammate” (i.e., Greek counterpart) raises his eyebrows, while simultaneously tilting back his head a tad. Though he clicks his tongue only softly, this combination of gestures indicates a very resounding “no.” I have found that when I present this theory of mine to Greeks, they quickly become offended and aggravated. As I trace this cultural value through to its political manifestations and economic implications, I am told that I misconstrue its meaning. Or rather, I twist and convolute it until it becomes no longer recognizable. Philotimo connotes something honest, innocent, and pure, but I corrupt and contort it until it turns into something else.

But is it really that different? Traditional associations might no longer be as prevalent today as they once were, but new associations have come to take their place. To a large extent, unions have replaced the classic social networks of church communities and extended families. Transcribed from the mountain villages to the bustling city of Athens, these new associations adhere to Pollis’ description of philotimo: individuals will still seek to play their role within the greater whole.

And the problem is that this “greater whole” does not refer to the country, but to a person’s immediate group. If the average Greek aimed to fulfill his role within the country, perhaps the current crisis could have been largely averted. But it is difficult to have faith in a government that does not represent your interests and does not produce results. As your tax dollars magically make their way into other people’s pockets, it is difficult to have faith in a system that does not produce dividends. Overrun with corruption and clientelism, neither the government nor the system is worthy of the people’s faith and support.

As a result, these voluntary associations consolidate, becoming stronger and more resistant. Abandoning nationalism, the people fall back on their sense of philotimo. They come to rely on their immediate group, turning to it for assistance and support. Perhaps this partially explains the prevalence of tax evasion: if you cannot subscribe to a greater good, and your loyalty lays instead with your immediate network, you will not hesitate to  exploit the loopholes in the system.

In fact, the idea of philotimo is fundamentally undemocratic. The group determines political participation. Your political stance becomes a collective issue, rather than an issue of individual choice and personal responsibility. Philotimo thus gives rise to the conflict mentality that is so acute in Greek political culture. Compromise and trade-offs are simply impossibilities since each group believes its interests to be exclusive and fixed. In Greece, the harmonizing or aggregation of group interests is basically impossible. The multi-party system dissolves into inter-group rivalry and fragmentation, making policymaking impossible and creating the political statism that characterizes the Greek system. The political scene is perceived as a zero-sum game, characterized by a high degree of mistrust and uncertainty. The idea of a government that exists to represent and serve the people is lost. Instead, a person’s immediate association garners his unyielding allegiance and support.

In other words, philotimo is the idea that a father would do whatever it takes to see that his daughter attends the best frontistirio, receiving the highest quality private tutoring that Athens can offer. Or your policeman cousin will pull whatever strings necessary to get you out of those expensive parking tickets. Or your neighbor, who works at the pharmacy, will ensure that all your prescriptions are free of charge. Your neighborhood mechanic will declare that your car damages were twice as expensive as they actually were, so that insurance will unknowingly cover the total cost. Greeks will defend the interests of their immediate groups for all they are worth. Philotimo is honor and integrity in the sense that they are fiercely loyal to their voluntary associations.

“Yes!” my Charades teammate exclaims. “That’s exactly it!” In the States, we could call a lot of this corruption. But that’s probably because we wistfully wish we could get away with it too. It’d be nice to have some philotimo magic dust to help us through the daily grind.

Time to Clean up the Garbage and Repower Greece

For two in a half weeks, my commute to work has involved step-stoning through wide expanses of trash. Plugging my nose has become second nature. Like the rest of Athens, I have started to forget that there were once marble and cobblestone sidewalks beneath the mountains of garbage. The trash men are striking indefinitely as a result of the severe cuts to their wages, along with the dramatic tax hikes. In the face of this lethal combination, an alarmingly large portion of the population is sinking below poverty level. My resentment for the men that are allowing the stench, grime, and health hazards to settle upon this city begins to fade as I realize they won’t be able to put food on their tables for much longer.

Say hello to the dumpster in front of my apartment building

While my commute to my internship at Deree College involves gingerly tiptoeing amidst the trash bags, the commute to my internship downtown is arguably worse. Well actually, if the public transportation system is striking, as it does two or three times a week, there is no commute at all. I find myself emailing the Consulting Firm yet again, asking if there is any work I can do from the comfort of my home. If the public transportation system does happen to be operating, the commute is harrowing at best. Because everyone else living in this delightful city must take full advantage of the limited window of time within which the transportation system will be running, I find myself wedged between smelly people far too often for my liking.

Occasionally I can coerce friends into driving me to either work or Greek class, but they are always reluctant to do so, as the price of gas has gone through the roof. Moreover, it’s not that unlikely that every gas station in the Athens area is on strike, or at least planning a strike. Or perhaps the container trucks that transport gas into Athens have decided to strike and the gas stations will be out of gas indefinitely. Just before a strike is scheduled to begin, cars will line up at gas stations like the end of the world is upon us. Sometimes, the gas stations will call off the strike just moments before it was scheduled to begin, as they have successfully wrung out every last cent from the pockets of panicked drivers.

On the one hand, I cannot respect this automatic instinct to strike. Powering down the public transportation system seems so counterproductive. How can you expect the economy to recover when people can’t get to work? How can you expect capital to circulate when people can’t leave their immediate neighborhoods? Stores are closing left and right partially because customers have such limited means of getting to these stores. As the piles of trash strewn across roads and sidewalks threaten to create severe public health problems, supporting the garbage men’s strike is close to impossible.

But on the other hand, I understand the message that these strikers seek to convey. Firstly, they are saying something like “you need us.” If you deprive us of our rightful pay, we will not be of service to you. Strikes are a form of passive disobedience; they are the peaceful protests. As harsh austerity is imposed upon the country from above, the people feel that they have lost their voice. In times of desperation, striking serves as the default action. It is the only way the people can get their point across. It is the only way they can make their statement. Hence, strikes convey the true plight and wretchedness of the times by revealing that the people have no other outlet. There is the implicit message that the people simply cannot handle the cutbacks.

Even the kiosks go on strike

Rather than turn to face the austerity measures, the Greeks choose to reject this harsh new reality. Strikes carry an underlying element of revenge and punishment. The people that have hit rock bottom figure they might as well bring everyone else down with them. In Greece, there is the widespread belief that the economic situation is not the fault of the people, but the fault of the government and the elite. The fat cats remain in their Kiffisia mansions, while the average Joe pays for their sins. The people’s anger and frustration originate in their belief that they played no role in the mammoth deficit. The harsh austerity measures place the Greek people in a Promethean situation– chained against a cliffside with crows picking at them– through no fault of their own.

From both outside and within Greek borders, the situation appears to be unraveling with no end in sight. Like Sisyphus, the Greeks are condemned to endlessly push the rock up the steep mountainside over and over again. The international community views Greece with a mix of pity and annoyance. The media continuously draws attention to the profligacy and fiscal irresponsibility that nearly brought about the demise of the euro. But as austerity rips across the land, uprooting everything in sight, the international media sadly shakes its head at the rapid degeneration of things. Continued criticism seems cruel. As wages nosedive, taxes skyrocket, and unemployment abounds, Greece appears to teeter on the verge of Third World status. Financiers turn their backs on the hopeless situation, believing the risk of investment to be far too acute. Greece seems to have been branded with the scarlet letter, as tourists look to switch their reservations to less volatile countries and Greek youth endeavor to find a more promising future abroad.

Yet amidst the rubble springs a brilliant idea. It is not a cure-all remedy, but it is certainly a start. While the deficit might take decades to atone for, involving years of cruel austerity and hardship, the image of Greece is something that can be refit and refurbished within the immediate future. Initiated by a variety of academics, diplomats, and technocrats, RepowerGreece.com is a social awareness campaign coordinated by the Institute for Regional Dialogue and Strategy, a non-profit organization.

The campaign seeks to transform perceptions of Greece by showcasing the individuals and businesses that have harnessed entrepreneurship, ingenuity, innovation, and a devoted work ethic. It endeavors to create the perfect springboard for change and growth by isolating and elevating a side of Greece that will impress the international community and motivate the Greek morale. In this way, RepowerGreece will fundamentally alter the assumptions and understandings upon which Greek society is perceived to function, thus allowing Greece to strategically reposition itself on the international chessboard.

The cornerstone of the online campaign involves the stories of people who, through determination and perseverance, managed to achieve their objectives in spite of overwhelmingly hostile contexts. These stories revolve around the country’s sectors of strategic interest: education, culture, innovation, agribusiness, tourism, energy, and shipping. The website represents those who find solutions and create opportunities. In highlighting these success stories, the campaign strives to promote a new-and-improved Greek mentality that combines critical thinking with result-oriented perceptions.

The second piece of this multi-layered public relations program involves opinion-editorials discussing the county’s current predicament. These pieces promote new ways of thinking by suggesting innovative strategies and solutions. Then, the initiative solicits and integrates “snap-thoughts,” or quick and simple ideas that seek to motivate and inspire, in an effort to engage the grassroots. The campaign therefore seeks to repower Greece by “rebranding” Greece as a country with a constructive new mindset that can adapt and evolve. It creates a platform for progress by redefining the role and enhancing the image of Greece, both at home and abroad.

This ground-breaking initiative is the most practical and worthwhile solution that Greece has produced during these bleak times. It strives to promote Greece to strategic key audiences, while fostering dialogue between critically thinking citizens and serving as a forum for new ideas. And most importantly, the campaign is not profit-oriented in any way. The sponsors behind the initiative, namely the Bank of Attica and the Hellenic Postbank, cover publicity and advertising expenses, while also offering access to the audiences with which they interact.

One of the primary objectives behind the initiative is to create a viral effect, to maximize outreach within both Greek and international public opinion. Here’s how you can get involved: first, participate in the movement. Go on RepowerGreece.com and explore the website; read the stories and contribute a “snap-thought.” Follow the Facebook page, and find RepowerGreece on Twitter and Linkedin. Then, help spread the word. Promote the initiative via your social networks (Facebook/Twitter/Linkenin), and recommend the site to your friends, family, and other contacts. Encourage them to visit, support, and participate in RepowerGreece.com.

The desperate need for an initiative like this is evident wherever you look. The Greek people need this. With its strategic geographic location, ideal climate, and superb human capital, Greece could be vibrant and flourishing. The country can emerge from this crisis strong and reinvigorated. Don’t allow it to fade into the Third World. Don’t allow it to be forgotten.

When Americans walk the streets of Athens…

When Americans arrive in Athens, there are a variety of typical reactions. My, what tiny cars you have! No toilet paper in the toilets- you’re kidding, right? My, I’ve never smelt more strongly of cigarette smoke! What do you mean, you don’t believe in recycling? What do you mean, ten points for the pedestrian?

When Greek-Americans arrive in Athens, there are also a variety of typical reactions. Holy moly, bamies can be delicious! You mean you don’t Greek folk dance in Greece? You mean only the yiayiathes and pappouthes go to church here? Wait, no coffee and donuts afterwards- are you serious?

It is easy to guess at the reactions of those who step off the plane with cameras and maps, whether American or Greek-American. It is easy to conjecture what they’re thinking as they scratch their heads and survey the scenery. The country is replete with social norms that the average American would find appalling (e.g. no need to recycle! feel free to smoke everywhere!), but I must say the redeeming aspects beneath the rough surface never seem to disappoint. I don’t think the good necessarily outweighs the bad, but I do think that the two extremes balance each other out in a way that makes things interesting. Surmising how the Greeks will react to the Americans they encounter is close to impossible. The spectrum is exceedingly broad.

There is a woman that lives around the corner from me and cooks food for me like I am a starving orphan. On the first day we met, she presented me with a monstrous tray of her moussaka, along with a Tupperware overflowing with koulourakia. You might be able to call the Greeks the Swindlers of the European Economy, but they are without a doubt the most generous and hospitable people in this world. This woman is the friend of my brother’s godmother’s father’s sister, and I am not even making that up. Our literal relationship is comically vague, but whenever we see each other she pulls me into a bear hug like I am her long lost daughter.

She is one of the Greeks who will speak to you slowly and kindly all evening, even though she knows you cannot understand a word. She is one of those Greeks whose eyes well up with tears of pride when she hears you struggling to produce some Greek, even if it is just some utterance that sounds vaguely Mediterranean. But then again, I don’t know if she is your typical Greek. I have found myself in quite a few unfortunate experiences due to my limited Greek, one of which unfolded during my search for marshmallows.

Dead set on making s’mores, that sublime combination of graham cracker, chocolate, and marshmallow, I committed myself to finding marshmallows somewhere within the jungle of Athens; however, they apparently do not exist anywhere in this city. I tried easily eight different supermarkets, each of which got a rendition of my marshmallow description in broken Greek: “You know, they’re small and fluffy and chewy. Like candy. White and sugary. Very sweet.” The usual response was either a confused look or an apologetic smile with those raised eyebrows gesturing “nope.” In the ninth supermarket, I tried this spiel on a lady busy stacking the shelves. She turned to me with a steely gaze and said in Greek, “When you learn to speak Greek, ask me.” As my brain slowly worked its way around that swift onslaught of words, the tears that cascaded in response were embarrassingly delayed.

Greeks have a variety of reactions to Americans in their country. Sometimes they are honored; they will “oohh” and “aahhh” when I tell them I’m from New York, and then tell me it was pretty silly of me to have moved here during an economic crisis. Everyone is trying to get out, they’ll explain. When I went to open a Greek bank account, the teller held my American passport in his hands like it was gold, recounting for me how he and his wife had considered “jumping ship” during their honeymoon in Manhattan.

Other times, people will just shake their heads when I tell them I am from the States, usually muttering a string of obscenities under their breath. Pretty soon, the Iraq War will make its way into the conversation, with our involvement in Afghanistan right at its heels. I have learned that it is hopeless to partake in a conversation like this. It is impossible to reason with an angry Greek, and America will somehow always be the cause of any and every one of the world’s problems. I have learned to nod my head and pick at my nails.

There is the trite stereotype of the Ugly American- the arrogant, boorish man in the Hawaiian shirt, loudly making ignorant remarks as he belittles local culture- and then there is the Meek American- the sweet older lady, handing out twenties to the cripple, while gypsy children reach into her back pocket. Today, Americans abroad seek to counteract the Ugly American stereotype but allow themselves to be taken advantage of in the process. Combine the Meek American with the Greek scam artist, and you have a very sad situation.

Over the summer, I had a friend who epitomized the Meek American. She moved into a one-room basement apartment and was told to pay four months rent upon arrival. She was only staying for three months, but the landlady insisted that she pay the first two months rent, along with another two months as a security deposit. The apartment was in disrepair, with a busted washing machine, a refrigerator on the fritz, and moldy ceilings, but the landlady promised to have everything fixed up within the week. Hoping to derail an unpleasant argument, my friend gave the landlady the benefit of the doubt and ponied up the money.

Come August, the apartment was still barely habitable. The landlady had avoided phone calls and emails for two months, but she magically materialized at the beginning of August to collect the rent without blinking an eye. My friend tried to protest, explaining that everything was still inoperative and reminding the landlady that she had not only already paid the three months, but also a fourth. The landlady went ballistic and called her lawyer, and my friend called me. The lawyer and I sat in disbelief, as the landlady screamed at the girl for well over an hour, calling her every name in the book. I quickly found that opening my mouth in my friend’s defense only antagonized the landlady, further fueling her rampage. She eventually stormed out of the apartment, slammed the door, and shrieked at us from the road. Neighbors came out onto their balconies to survey the spectacle.

After some time, the lawyer coaxed her into returning to the apartment, and the screaming recommenced amidst the must and the mold. The Meek American just sat there and cried, in the end coughing up the money to stop the screaming. As soon as she had handed over the rent, the landlady decided to start screaming about utilities. The girl collapsed in a sobbing heap on the couch, as the landlady paraded around the apartment still bellowing. Meanwhile, the lawyer sat there playing Angry Birds on his phone. Eventually, the girl shelled out money for the utilities as well. Remarking “give it to my lawyer” and refusing to even look at her, the landlady left with her nose in the air.

More than a month has passed and my friend has yet to see any of her supposed security deposit. There are the Greeks that love Americans, eager to practice their English and discuss the NBA, and then there are the Greeks that look to exploit the Meek American. They prey on the American desire to counter the Ugly American stereotype, the desire to be respectful, understanding and flexible. In the interest of counteracting perceived American arrogance, the Meek American will never speak out and rise to his own defense. In short, the Greeks have realized that the Meek American is the perfect person of whom to take advantage.

But then again, the country offers up so much in atonement. There is the cheerful fruit vendor at the laiki who will weigh my order, give me the price, and then stick a couple more peaches into my bag because she is so humored by the Greek phrases I will come up with. As I was walking back from my Modern Greek class the other day, an older lady in high heels flagged down a motorcycle driver to ask for a ride, explaining that her feet were hurting her. The driver beckoned for her to hop on the back, and off they went together.

My Greek-American uncle came to visit Athens over the summer and somehow dropped a wad of cash on his way off of the tour bus on the last day of his trip. Stumbling upon it later in the evening, the bus driver recognized the clip that held the bills together to be the clip my uncle had pulled out of his jacket pocket when he had tipped the driver earlier that day. My uncle was quite pleasantly surprised the next morning to find that his money had been dropped off at the concierge’s desk late in the evening.

There are the complimentary desserts that appear on the table at the end of almost any taverna dinner. There are the girls on the metro who will remind me to always be on my guard, motioning that I should pull my bag closer to my body. There are the people leaving the metro station that hand off metro tickets that haven’t run out of time yet, so that others can make use of the remaining time without spending money on a new ticket.

Greek beaches are notorious for their sea urchins. Most of the time, the soft sand embraces your feet, welcoming you to Greece and encouraging you to stay. But, every so often, you will be unlucky enough to stumble upon a sea urchin. Don’t let it spoil the beach.

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The Mentality of the Pallikaria

My favorite Greek word is pallikari. I grew up like every other Greek-American, impressing everyone at my lunch table as I would call my mom and explain in Greeklish that I forgot my basketball sneakers, but horrified whenever I’d get off the plane in Athens and find that I could not understand a word. I went to Greek school for half of my life but retained almost nothing. The word pallikari brings back memories of wearing an amalia outfit and standing on stage in front of an audience of smiling parents to recite Rigas Feraios’ famous poem.

The Greek term pallikaria literally refers to the bandits that roamed the countryside during Tourkokratia, or the Ottoman occupation, plundering the estates of the Turkish elite and proclaiming select regions to be under their private rule. Although their deeds were not nearly as honorable and glorious as Greek folklore proclaims them to have been, these guerilla warriors represented the only real threat to Turkish rule throughout the occupation. Although the ideology and rhetoric behind the revolution was undoubtedly Western and elitist, it was these rebellious pallikaria that embodied the real power of the resistance movement.

Anyway, its use today always leaves a goofy smile on my face. I’ve heard a driver yell it sarcastically as a second driver plowed into the parking spot he had been positioning himself to back into. Ladies will use it to describe the cute gentleman that holds the door patiently for them as they teeter up the stairs in their high heels. Mothers will use it for the sons that help bring the groceries in from the car. The word never fails to bring to mind images of men with mustaches curling upward, in pleated foustanella skirts, most likely with muskets tied to their backs, or lamb skins draped over their shoulders.

Where is she going with this, you ask? Well, let me tell you one of my theories on Greece’s current economic crisis. I explained this theory to a friend who believes attending the Syntagma protests is his duty as a Greek citizen, and it resulted in him not speaking to me for the rest of the evening… so please don’t let this be the first and last time you will read this column.

“Pallikarism” is an idea that is still widely prevalent within the cultural consciousness of Greece. It is the uniquely Greek understanding of individual freedom and self-government, yet it also evokes the idea of disobedience, and ultimately revolution, against unjust oppression. Originating from the country’s legends and traditions, it is a noble concept ingrained deep within the Greek psyche. It manifests itself within today’s version of Greek political culture as an anti-authority sentiment, thus freeing Greeks from accountability and obligation to a degree that would be much less accepted in many other countries.

This aspect of the Greek cultural consciousness contributed to the development of the country’s economic crisis by giving rise to rampant corruption and tax evasion. Such actions, in turn, rendered the system’s vast social programs to be unsustainable. Without tax revenue, the government spiraled into increasingly deeper debt as it sought to fund the country’s expensive pension plans, along with the many other entitlements of the welfare state.

In other words, the current economic crisis has its roots in Tourkokratia, as the years of domination by autocratic Turkish rulers played a considerable role in the molding of modern Greek political culture. Brutally subjugated under the Sultan’s representatives, the people of the horia, or villages, developed an ingrained distrust of authority and disregard for legality, as they learned to regard authoritative and administrative figures with reservation and suspicion.

The Sultan implemented a system similar to that of feudalism, creating an aristocracy to exploit the peasantry through heavy taxation and then supplementing such taxation with arbitrary exactions and forced labor. The Ottoman Turks included within the taxation requirements the “tribute of children,” a tribute that required Greek parents to turn over one in every five male children to the corps of Janissaries, an elite fighting force which was crucial to Ottoman conquests.

Thus, the Greek regard for dignity, honor, and equality became hyperbolized after the fight for independence. The experience of what it was like to live without such virtues for four cruel centuries instilled an intense appreciation for them within the country’s mentality. The Greek people thereby developed an ethos, or cultural mindset, of egalitarianism. This sense of autonomy is best summarized by the expression, k’esi moustaki, k’ego moustaki, an expression which literally translates to mean “You have a mustache, and I too have a mustache.”

Perhaps this profound sense of autonomy and unaccountability is what propagates the endemic tax evasion and corruption within today’s political culture. Although they feel entitled to its outputs, the Greek people do not feel obligated to provide the system with its needed inputs. Tax evasion generated the crisis by distorting the economic data upon which the government relied, thus rendering its fiscal and monetary policies so misguided that they became detrimental to the country’s economy. These distortions obscured the functioning of capital markets, made budgeting an impossibility, and discouraged foreign investment.

Greece has sustained the highest rates of tax evasion within the entire EU for years, primarily due to the astonishingly low levels of enforcement. The federal tax system is utterly ineffective, replete with internal inconsistencies and contradictory tax codes. Characterized by inaccurate record keeping and poorly trained staff, it is a system rigged to allow for tax evasion. As a result, tax evasion is so widespread and systematized within Greek political culture that its morality is no longer questioned.

High levels of tax evasion have historically correlated with high levels of informal economic activity, given that black market revenue is unrecorded and unregistered, and therefore not taxable. While the many loopholes in the institutional structure of the state and its laws has allowed for a tremendous underground economy, the rampant clientelism undermines the political will that would be needed to address such problems. Consequently, the system that was so fiscally irresponsible remained in full swing for far too long.

Whenever the government would attempt to reduce welfare and lower pensions, the people would demonstrate in the streets. And who could blame them? It seems to be common knowledge in Greece that politicians embezzle government funds and do not pay taxes. The Greek media loves to capture government officials leaving their mansions in Kiffisia and Paleo Psychico, and driving down Paraliaki in luxurious sports cars. Buttressed in their offices by the elaborate patronage networks beneath them, politicians faced no other option than to sustain the unsustainable system. But gradually, the prevalence of tax evasion, corruption, and black economic activity warped and depleted the complex of pensions and other social programs to such an extent that it imploded last spring.

When the tides of Europeanism washed the entitlement scheme onto the shores of Greece, its implementation became inevitable. But we have come to see that the Greek mentality- the mentality of the pallikaria– creates a hostile environment for such social programs. With its deep value for autonomy and independence, Greek political culture propagates a disregard for legality and a distrust of authority that undermines the underlying assumptions of the welfare state. In my opinion, when such a system is implemented within such a context, an economic crisis is simply unavoidable… but please don’t avoid me for the rest of the evening.

Greek Flavor

I am the sore thumb that walks the streets of Athens. Even with my hair dyed darker and while wearing my coolest pair of sunglasses, I still stick out. No matter how I try to go incognito, employing chameleon-like efforts to blend into the local look, everything about me screams American. Thus, you can imagine my delighted surprise upon discovering, while out for a frappé the other afternoon, that I somehow knew every note to the Greek pop song blaring from the café’s sound system. I didn’t really know the words, but I was able to hum the tune perfectly. As my cheeks glowed with pride, I gave myself a few figurative pats on the back for my smooth and natural assimilation into the local culture.

But after about five minutes of silently applauding myself, a horrifying realization dawned upon me: the song that had made its way onto tonight’s playlist was Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me.” I had been smugly humming along to a classic American song. Not too clever. In my defense, a clear soprano had replaced Chad Kroeger’s deep raspy voice, the tune was the same, but the instrumentals were completely different, and the language was Greek.

Greece has a way of taking things in their initial form, swallowing them whole, and then spitting them out in a configuration that’s nearly unrecognizable from its original. Whether this phenomenon results from the cultural mentality, the physical climate, or the deep-rooted history that lurks just about everywhere, the city of Athens bathes everything non-Greek in a new and unique light. Athens is not a homogenizing melting pot like many American cities, but a pungent cauldron that turns everything Greek.

Order a glass of Belvedere vodka at a posh Athenian bar, and you’ll see what I mean. You will be incensed and insulted to find that, though you can see the bottle roosting on the shelf directly behind him, the bartender has turned you down with that disconcerting flick of the chin. The trick is ordering Belvedere like a Greek: be sure to roll that “r” and to pronounce that silent “e.” He wasn’t rebuffing you; he really just had no idea what you were asking for.

Belvedere is among the countless other non-Greek words that have made their way into the Greek vocabulary and baptized themselves as Greek. There are the obvious ones, like piano (πιάνο) and computer (κομπούτερ), and the less obvious ones, like pantofla (παντόφλα) and valitsa (βαλίτσα), which simply come from the French words for slipper and suitcase: pantoufle and valise.

I often find myself staring at Greek DVDs for extended periods of time, painstakingly sounding out “Scarlett Johansson” or “Jake Gyllenhaal” in Greek graphemes. I’ve had similar experiences while perusing Greek bookstores. Startled first by the familiarity of a book cover, I’m soon humored to find myself sounding out something like “Huckleberry Finn” in Greek.

Generally, the Greeks do not dub American films and TV shows; they instead keep the original soundtrack intact and simply include subtitles. Athens has several new state-of-the-art movie theater complexes, but it would be criminal to see a movie in one of these when you have the summertime option of experiencing the outdoor movie theater. In fact, outdoor cinema just might be my favorite thing about summers in Greece, surpassing even the beautiful beaches for first place.

Though the summer sun can be blinding and oppressive, once the sun sets and the breeze picks up, there is no better place to enjoy the cool evening than an outdoor cinema. You can find them in neighborhood squares and green parks, or on the rooftops above shops, with breath-taking views of the Lykavittos and the Acropolis. I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2 over the summer, but was still able to feel that I was basking in the local culture. As I watched Hogwarts prepare for battle, and Harry seek out You-Know-Who, I sipped on my Fix beer and listened to the cicadas chirping in their cypress trees.

Side note. While tourists look to sample local beers like Fix and Alpha, you will rarely find a Greek with such a beverage. The unofficial beer of Greece is Heineken. Controlling 72 percent of the Greek beer market, Heineken can be found at any taverna, supermarket, or kiosk. Greeks will simply ask for a prasini (πράσινι), Greek for “green,” thereby taking an obvious import and making it seem like a local product.

This happens with a lot of non-Greek brands. Aside from the mastic-flavored toothpastes you will find at tourist traps, Greek toothpaste virtually does not exist. Instead, supermarkets and convenience stores sell your usual American varieties: Colgate, Crest, and Aquafresh. But the products still seem so Greek. For example, the tube of Colgate perched on my bathroom sink right now bears no resemblance to the products you will find at CVS. For starters, it is a quaint 75ml tube that is exponentially more adorable than the family-sized monstrosities I buy back home. It does not scream “EXTRA WHITENING” or “MINTY FRESH BREATH!” but instead has a darling lemon depicted above the solitary word “Herbal.” Beside the lemon, there’s a lovely bouquet of herbs, tied together neatly with a bow.

Greece’s version of the Big Mac, the Greek Mac, is something else so American that Athens has rendered so Greek. The only thing it has in common with its American counterpart is the two burger patties. Tzatziki (τζατζίκι)- that luscious yoghurt-cucumber spread- replaces the American cheese, while tomato slices sub in for the pickles. Then, a warm pita stands in for the usual three-part sesame seed bun. I’m worried the cashier might shout “Opa!” as he hands me my Greek Mac. And this is only the beginning of the non-Greek food products that Greece has transmogrified.

Nearly every block has its very own crêperie, whether it be a simple stall or a more elaborate takeaway restaurant. The Greek restaurant scene has taken Parisian crêpes and turned them into krepes (κρέπες), a quick street food that has spread like wildfire. Many entrepreneurial gyro places have simply expanded to include a few circular flat plates with which to make crêpes. Hence, a Greek crêpe will not involve ratatouille or asparagus, but could certainly include shaved chicken or pork, directly from the rotating gyro spit. You could even have it with tzatziki or the mustard-mayonnaise sauce (so creatively called σως, or sauce) that the Greeks love with their souvlaki. Another crowd pleaser are the crêpes filled with tomatoes and tirokeftedes (τυροκεφτέδες), or fried balls of traditional kasairi (κασαίρι) cheese.

Likewise, the Greeks have taken the French fry and endowed it with a variety of new functions. Unless you tell them otherwise, all gyro places assume that you would like French fries tucked into your gyro pita, completing the salty pork with some more salt. Ask for French fries with your sandwich from the Greek restaurant chain Everest and they will put the fries in your sandwich. Amongst the pizza varieties offered in the display case at your local pizza parlor, you will see slices topped with French fries. In fact, pizza in Greece usually takes on a uniquely Greek form. Order a plain old pizza at a taverna and it will most likely arrive at your table topped with olives, onions, green peppers, and feta. But be sure to try it before you consider sending it back.

Perhaps the most hilarious thing that the American will come across while traversing Athens is the new-and-improved Pizza Hut. I don’t know about you, but the Pizza Hut in my home town included an elaborate arcade. My mother would order our slices from the self-service counter, while my brothers and I would fight each other for use of the pin ball machines. Our table was almost always situated directly beside the air hockey table. In Athens, the tables in Pizza Hut have white tablecloths with rose-bouquet centerpieces. You will find sharply dressed waiters, soft jazz music, and dim lighting.

While Pizza Hut might don a classy facade here in Athens, basketball takes a turn for the worst. As you might have heard when Greece beat America in the 2006 Fiba World Championship, basketball has made quite a splash in Greece. Every high school, university, and neighborhood has a few competitive basketball teams to its name. Whereas you must reach deep into your pockets to attend a professional basketball game in the States, you can see the pros play for cheap here. During my freshman year at Boston College, Tyrese Rice, our starting point guard, used to sell out our arena. Ticket resale could often put admission to his games well over $100. When I studied in Athens as a junior, Rice was playing in Athens for the professional club Panionios, and of course I had to go see him play. The cost of a ticket was one euro. I wish I were kidding.

Basketball in Greece has been tainted with the thrill and bellicosity of most European sporting events. Only fans of the home team are permitted to attend home games, as assaults on fans of the opposing team are an inevitability. Despite this law, opposing fans still show up camouflaged in home-team paraphernalia and, predictably, fights here-and-there are still part of the experience. Fans compose catchy chants largely by stringing together obscenities and shout them continuously throughout the game. Such chants will be accompanied by drums and the heavy stamping of feet against bleachers. As confirmed by the skull-and-crossbone flags that blanket the stadium, along with the smoke bombs, the Greeks are preparing for war.

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It is unusual to find a girl at a Greek sporting event. Perhaps this is because attendants often light things on fire. Or perhaps this is because games are frequently paused because too many random objects have been hurled onto the particular playing ground, or terminated because too many fans have rushed into the game. One basketball game, fans rushed the court just to hug the players after an especially nice play.

From basketball to Colgate toothpaste to Nickelback songs, Greece can endow non-Greek entities with a uniquely Greek flavor- some sweet, others tart. When I recognize an American concept cloaked in this new Greek veneer, my feelings range. Sometimes I’m slightly frustrated with the distortions and contortions. Other times, I’m very humored (case in point: Pizza Hut). Or, when jogging through a park and watching kids play knock out on the basketball court, I’m sometimes a little homesick.

But most of the time, I’m just downright proud to see a piece of home.

The Many Faces of Starbucks

To the American abroad, Starbucks is a sort of haven, an oasis of familiar civilization amidst the wilderness of foreign cultures. You can order the very same drink you order back home, and it will be served exactly the same. You can use the wireless to check your Facebook, while enjoying the classic American tunes softly emanating from the speakers.

To the native, Starbucks can be perceived in two different ways. Sometimes, it is seen as a promising sign of globalization and development. For example, the Starbucks that stands at the entrance to Hong Kong’s Stanley Market, a chaotic bazaar replete with chickens squawking and Chinese proprietors hawking their wares, counteracts the environment with a comforting twist of sophistication and worldliness. On the other hand, if a Greek were to hear of this “comforting twist,” he would most likely raise his eyebrows in that often misleading way of saying “no,” characterizing such an outlook as one of arrogance and egotism. In Athens, Starbucks is generally seen as an invasion, a reflection of hubris. It is one culture’s presumptuous attempt to stifle another.

To the American in Athens, a Starbucks awning is a reminder of home, but not quite as interchangeable with an American flag as the Greek might think. While you will still find signature drinks like the Caramel Macchiato and the White Mocha, you will be confused by other options, like the Greek frappés and freddo espressos. You will find solace with the carrot cake in the glass display case, but there is no need to feel narrow-minded and guilty: you can still sample the local cuisine via the spanakopites and tiropites exhibited behind the glass.

But to the Athenian, a Starbucks spanakopita is not a spanakopita. The thick, crude crust is not the light phyllo leaves to which you are accustomed, while the unidentifiable cheese has no resemblance to the specialty’s usual feta. Similarly, you are likely to be horrified at the prospect of ordering an “iced, grandé frappé,” rather than the customary “metrio, choris gala,” variation.

Moreover, the Athenian knows that the Wi-Fi at Starbucks will be frustratingly slow, as the network is under complete and utter overload at any given point in time. Not only would a quiet kafenion be an exponentially more authentic experience, but you would be much more productive and much less exasperated with your technological devices by the time that you leave.

The American does not mind if the wireless is a little sluggish, for it is far more simpler, and far less embarrassing, to read the network’s username and password off your receipt, rather than ask for the codes via myriad forms of sign language and pig Latin.

The Graf Family at the Monastiraki Starbucks

Despite this difference in opinion, the Athenian is well aware that the international coffee place is a tourist trap. While the American feels that he is in a “safe zone,” a reassuring home base within unfamiliar lands, the Athenian knows that he must cling to his wallet. To the scam artists that roam the metros and crowded side streets of European cities, Starbucks is the jack pot, the treasure trove.

Starbucks is unique in its irresistible ability to coax customers into letting down their guard. Whether touring a new city or taking a short break from the office, customers feel sheltered and secure in their home-away-from-home. As their iPods render them oblivious to their surroundings, the purses that have inadvertently been left swinging from the backs of chairs make their casual way out of the store. Belatedly realizing that your belongings have disappeared, you will soon recognize that you have just purchased the most expensive coffee of your life.

Although you will vacillate between phases of outrage and despair, your return to Starbucks is inevitable. The coffee is so addicting, the snacks so sumptuous, and the atmosphere so inviting, that you cannot resist for long. Within a matter of days, you will find yourself poking your head between tables in search of an outlet for your laptop. Within a matter of days, you will find yourself savoring one of the finger-licking butter croissants and asking for extra napkins. But this time, you will keep your bag close, periodically reassuring yourself with the touch of your wallet.

First Impressions

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Arriving in Greece is like arriving on the face of the moon. You feel that you have been transported the 200,000 miles closer to the sun, as you fumble desperately for your sunglasses. Photographers often make the assertion that the light in Greece is unlike anywhere else in the world. Everything is bathed in a blinding gold. It is easy to imagine this sublime landscape as the turf upon which the legendary warriors, barefoot nymphs, and Olympian gods once tread.

But then your cab from the airport takes you past IKEA and other outlet stores, and then the Holiday Inn, gingerly introducing you to the polluted, industrial city of Athens. The tourist’s first impression is usually something like, “No wait, we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.” By the time you and your suitcase have been deposited on the sidewalk in front of your hotel, your dreams and expectations of a city worthy of Athena have been shattered. Only the Acropolis- though the Parthenon might be largely hidden by smog and scaffolding- reminds you that you have in fact made it to Athens.

Every time I arrive in Athens that is generally how it goes: first I am astounded, then I am disappointed. But slowly, as the days pass by and I gradually penetrate the city’s outside surface, my amazement returns. No, none of the city’s blue dumpsters are used exclusively for recycling. Yes, emaciated dogs still wander the streets. Yes, you must cling to your wallet for all you are worth. But, my God, there are so many magnificent elements to this city and its culture that you will never find anywhere else.

Take the tomato, for instance. You will never find a tomato like the ones that grow in Greece. When ripe and juicy, they are beyond perfect. In their divine regality, they strip the American fruit that calls itself a tomato of its dignity, leaving it humbled and humiliated.

Accordingly, you will never find a cheese that goes better with a tomato than the feta brought to you by the Greek countryside. I have learned that cheese in Greece can be consumed in more ways than almost any other product. It can be baked or fried, or served fresh and untouched. It can be eaten at any meal and consumed in combination with almost any other product. For example, the tyropita, a cheese pie made with phyllo, functions as both a very common breakfast and the perfect on-the-go snack. Fried cheese, or saganaki, makes for a delicious appetizer. A slab of feta completes almost any meal, as it can be broken apart and sprinkled atop any dish- whether it may be a salad, a meat dish, or a pasta dish. And, of course, cheese with fruit, typically melon or berries, makes for a finger-licking dessert.

The only Greek food product that is perhaps more multifaceted than cheese, is the olive oil. Renowned worldwide for its high quality, Greek olive oil is drizzled over salads, used for frying vegetables and meats, and used in virtually every baked dish. Of course, tomatoes, feta, and olive oil makes for the ultimate trifecta. As I soak my bread in the leftover salad slosh- a truly heavenly slosh that these three ingredients leave behind- I am reminded that there is nowhere on the globe like Greece. Due to the high consumption of fruits and vegetables, combined with the high ratio of monounsaturates (olive oil) over saturated lipids (butter, lard), Greek cuisine consistently ranks as the world’s healthiest cuisine. As I will be living in Greece for the year, I find that fact to be quite comforting.

The widespread prevalence of farmer’s markets is a concept unique to Greece. Every neighborhood in Athens has its very own weekly laiki, or outdoor market, comprised of rows of stalls brimming with fresh produce. Though I have spent many summers in Greece, I have never witnessed the abundance of grapes and figs that characterizes the September laiki. Each and every locally grown product is unlike anything I have seen in the States, but strawberries exemplify the case in point. Cultivated without chemicals, additives, or pesticides, the average Greek strawberry is a third of the size of the blubbery, misshapen American strawberry and, as a result, much redder, tastier, and more satisfying.

In fact, the idea of things being much smaller than they are in the States is a common theme here in Greece. With a much smaller hood and effectively no trunk, your typical Greek car is comically smaller than its American counterpart. SUVs are nowhere to be found. The American “soccer mom car” does not have a Greek equivalent. Instead, Greek cars can be crammed into imagined parking spaces on the sidewalks, or maneuvered down one-way streets with vehicles double-parked on both sides. With gas prices sky-rocketing and Athens being a city comprised of nook and crannies, microcars, aka bubblecars, are the way to go.

Correspondingly, the people that fit into these cars are also of the smaller variety. While perusing a Greek shopping mall, the American is horrified to find that he or she has moved up a clothing size. What is considered “Small” in the States, is considered “Medium” in Greece. Seats on the metro, in the hair salons, and in the restaurants- and yes, even their toilet seats- are considerably downsized. The sidewalks are narrower, and here and there you will find trees planted directly in the middle of the sidewalk, directly in your path of walking. As you squeeze between the tree and the curb, careful not to set off any car alarms, you wonder how Americans came to so closely resemble their bloated strawberries.

Perhaps it is because the Greek volta, the traditional after-dinner stroll, does not have an American analog. Or perhaps it is simply because Greek portions are noticeably smaller than those in the States. A venti iced coffee at a Greek Starbucks is about an inch shorter than its American original. Appetizers are emphasized over entrées and they are meant to be shared by the table, not scarfed down individually. Fast food places like Wendy’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken flopped shortly after their introduction into the Athens restaurant scene. McDonald’s has survived the cultural hostility to fast food, but you will never find out-the-door lines like you might in the States.

Even so, the American obsession with counting calories has not penetrated the cultural atmosphere of Greece. Perhaps keeping track of calories just seems pointless and unnecessary, given that Greek cuisine is so widely esteemed as nutritious and healthy. In fact, the idea of a menu complete with estimated calorie content would seem laughable to a taverna owner, especially because many tavernas plan their menus on a day-by-day basis depending upon the availability of seasonal products.

It seems to me that the Greeks have dodged the global wave of obesity primarily because of their unwavering emphasis on moderation. It is unusual to find skim milk, reduced-fat feta, or sugarless baklava in the Greek kitchen. Greeks eat the real things- the good things- in small quantities. There is no Greek equivalent to Costco, or Sam’s Club, or BJ’s. Lacking the American urge to stock up, Greek families shop at local grocery stores every couple of days. The shopping carts are smaller and there is no use for a bag boy.

Perhaps this reflects a unique emphasis on the present that Americans have somehow lost within their fast-paced world. In a society that is so future-oriented, we somehow lose sight of the present tense. Although the current economic crisis in Greece has exposed a fatal flaw in the Greek mentality- the country’s inability to plan for the long-term, to rise above individual interest and grasp a greater good- there is an underlying exquisiteness beneath it all.

The current economic crisis denotes that, within this globalizing age of modernity, the Greeks refused to lose focus on the here-and-now. They chose to seize the day, to appreciate and live the present for what it was worth, and face the consequences later on. Now, as the country turns to face these consequences, struggling with harsh austerity measures and wading through international condemnation, we will see just how resilient and enduring this culture really is. But then again, as you exit the metro and stumble upon yet another ancient excavation site, or meander through the stalls of the Monastiraki that are nestled neatly amidst the ruins, the resilience and endurance of this culture seems unmistakable.