A Recollection of the past two months...

Hello all of you out there in the world, and thanks for trying to read about my study abroad experience! I begin this blog by saying sorry about not posting anything for quite literally two months, but well, as you can imagine, its been pretty crazy. Or at least, time seems to be flying by and well, I kind of forgot to update it... But to cover two months worth of exploration in this blog. I'll keep it short.
To go back to my last blog. I think it was Akon. If not, bare with me. Oktoberfest was the next to follow. That was the end of September. That was a freakin blast. I had just really met my two friends that I have now, both people from DU, being Mark and Brie. We randomly planned the trip, more out of the blue than anything else, and I had the priveledge of my brother coming down from England to drink and spend time with. I can't even tell you how awesome Munich, Oktoberfest, and that weekend was. Probably one of the peaks of my study abroad experience. But lets move on...
There was a lull in experiences for a while there, being as epic as that of Oktoberfest, and what is to come. But most of my experiences revolved around exploring the city, Athens. I got to see the Acropolis again, the Agora, the stadiums around the Acropolis, and that area in general. I have still yet to go to Socrates' prison, or even Plato's academy... but well, I might not be able to get to those. Anyway... There was a lot going on then, more for school, finding myself, and well, meeting new people and getting lucky in other aspects. But one amazing experience came from a lovely moment in time, I can't remember the exact date, but well, there was a "riot" going on in our neighborhood, Pagrati, and I will tell you about my experience. Mark and I wanted to get some food after one of my classes, I think. So we went off to our favorite Gyro place, walked in and ordered our food. While we were ordering, sirens started sounding, and people were getting a little weirded out. Mark and I were wondering what the Gryo people were getting weirded out about, but well, we just got our food and started to walk back to school. That, however, was quickly changed. We looked up the street to see people running away, no cars, and a little bit of smoke in the air. I thought, "interesting, I wonder what's going on." We then proceeded to continue walking up the street, to end up seeing a group of about 20 or so men dressed mostly in black walking in a big group and chanting. They were carrying forms of weapons, those being large sticks or poles, and were chanting and walking around. Let me just state that before we saw the group of men, there had been a loud bang. That was a molotov cocktail being set off somewhere. When we saw the group of guys, there were other people down where we were, mostly just civilians like us, looking at the group in curiosity and a little bit of fear. But there were other guys too, guys who had hoods on and masks covering their faces. These guys didn't seem to want to bother us, but well, I think if I had made any move to cross their path in any way, they would've probably beaten me up. They had weapons of their own. I looked up at the larger group, and saw the damage they were causing. One of their members wanted to test out the other guys, and so he ran down to face them off, but well, he got chased away really quickly when a group of five guys came crashing down on him, making him flee for his life. That was when Mark and I decided it was probably time to get the hell out of dodge and get back to school, the only place we could think to be really safe. The large group also seemed to be moving into the direction of where Mark lives, so we didn't want to go there. So we were approaching a street where we would turn to go to school, but right as we were about to turn, all I saw was green and black. My eyes then focused onto what I was looking at, which were riot police. They were not looking at me, but they had two groups of about 10 men and women on either side of the street, fully decked out in pads, riot shields, and helmets. Billy clubs were also in hand, and shields were up in front... they were ready to take down anyone and anything. I had almost walked into one of them, but then took a couple of steps back, mostly because I was in shock. Two of them maybe gave me a passing glance, but I was not what was worrying them. They saw the group of rioters, and took up positions. The group of rioters saw them, and began to move. The police then started to follow, giving me and Mark a window of opportunity to get the hell out of dodge for real this time. My nerves were shot, I was holding a gyro in one hand, and the other was in a fist, ready to fight anyone who might have dared to bother me. We got to school, mostly because we were relatively booking it out of there, we saw our director (i.e. principal of sorts) on the way, and she assured us it was ok, but to get inside the school right away. We had no objections, got inside, started eating, heard some chanting coming, ran up to the roof of our school, and watched the rioters, much more calm then, go and walk away. And so ends the tale of the riot...

Now the tale of Thessaloniki.
Salonika is a lovely town up in northern Greece (google map it) and it was a very interesting town. It is right up against the Agean sea, and there is this lovely walkway that runs along the water's edge. There is the historic White Tower there (not to get it confused with any LOTR reference) as well as some other really cool ancient sites and other things as well. But I spent my time there exploring the town, though we didn't have much time to explore. We had a very tight schedule since the trip was a school trip, so what little time we had to explore, I took advantage. I saw the port there up close and personal, and the weather was amazing there. But the most important thing that I took from there was a... parade of sorts. It was a military procession, with a little bit of nationality to spice things up a bit. But the majority of the "parade" was that of tanks, artillary, APCs, more tanks, troop transports, chemical warfare vehicles, armored vehicles with rocket launchers attached to them, those multiple rocket vehicles (the ones that look like they have big squares on the back with holes for rockets to sit in...) and then a F*** ton of troops to follow. I have never seen a military parade before... but let me assure you, it is intimidating, frightening, overbearring... um, yeah. The feeling of the crowd was the same. You could look into the people's faces, and well, that's what they saw: power, force, strength, but also intimidation, overbearring, pressure. That trip was fun though, overall. And to refrain from making this 2 month story epically long, I am going to continue to the next tale. And so ends the tale of Thessaloniki.

And so begins the tale of the sliced hand.
I am jumping in time here to accomodate for the length, but also I kind of forgot what happened during those couple of weeks between Solonika and this tale. But here is the tale... On a Wednesday evening, I had been hanging out in my apartment, listening to music, and I began to get hungry. So I got up, made some delicious dinner (probably one of my famous Pita with fried meat, mustard, cheese, pickles, and a ton of pepper) and began to scarf it down back in my room while listening to music. I just happened to be at a lull in music, and I had finished my meal, so I had taken off my headphones for a second, to hear one of my roommates complain to himself about the fact that there were so many dirty dishes in the sink, and that nobody did the dishes. I suddenly felt a wave of guilt for I am not an angel in that department; but I digress. So I sat there for a little, letting my food digest a little, and heard him leave the kitchen and go back to his room. I then got up with my plate, went into the kitchen, and started to do the dishes. I had washed the silverware, and was going to tackle the cuppery (?) next. I washed one... two, cups. But on the third one, I cleaned the outside, and then began to clean out the inside of the cup. While I was twisting my hand and the sponge inside the cup, I heard a snap, and something hitting the bottom of the sink. In my mind, all I thought was: "Stop!" The next thing I do is take my hand out, looking down, to see a pool of red where my middle and ring fingers were. Then a little bit of panic set in... I saw the blood, quickly ran it under the running water to see the damage, but well... that just sent more blood everywhere. And then I saw it, how deep it was. I quickly removed my hand from the water, and proceeded to grab a paper towel to begin putting pressure on the wound and to hopefully start slowing down the bleeding. As you may have just realized, I now am referring to the cut as a wound, because it was. I could see into my hand. I required 6 stitches. That was fun, getting stitched up by a doctor who could barely tell me what he was doing and telling me what I needed to do. My hand is all healed up, and I will be left with a really sweet scar. Pictures maybe to be posted. And so ends the tale of the sliced hand.

And so begins the tale of the Hill-top monks.
I'll keep this story short. I joined a group of people who went to a small town named Meteora. At the town there are amazing rock formations; a very picturesque and beautiful landscape that takes your breath away. There are these amazing rock formations that are on one side of this valley, and on top of these rock formations are monastaries that monks built there. They are very picturesque. The whole area was just breathtaking. Pictures do not do it justice. If you ever travel to Greece, make sure you stop in Meteora. But the one thing that I was a little perterbed about was that I only went into one monastary. I felt like a heathen, like I should have never been inside one of them. But I was glad that I at least got to go in one. But well, anyway.. that was an amazing trip. And so ends that tale.

And then there is the tale of the Freaky-Deaky Dutch land.
I went to Amsterdam with my buddy Andrew. The trip consisted of... well, I am a little embarrassed to tell. We mostly slept the entire time. We were never collectively up before 4 PM. I was up every day at about 10-11 AM, but well, I was able to spend that time reading my amazing book, "The Welll of Ascension" by Brandon Sanderson. I will be finishing the trilogy by the time I get home. But Amsterdam was a very beautiful city. Very picturesque. I loved the canals that are in the city, the building styles, and the general atmosphere that people had. They were all very friendly and respectful for the most part. They also rode around on bikes all the time! Not used to that. I'm used to loud ass cars, buses, and the constant noises of a bustling city/metropolis. I also saw the infamous Red Light district. Not quite what I was expecting, but well, if you want specifics, you can ask me for them. And that ends the tale of Freaky-Deaky Dutch land (which by the way Dutch is really freaky-deaky)...

And now we are to the present. Those are the "hallmark" events that I have experienced throughout my experience and time here. I hope you enjoy my story as much as I have. Hopefully I will be able to tell you something else grand before the time I depart from Greece.