έχω χαθεί (I'm lost.)
For the moment, Athens is the city that robs me of my equilibrium. I suspect that will change in the future, but for now, her streets veer off in directions unknown to me. In Chicago, I am one of those annoying people who gives directions using North and South, rather than right and left. But in Athens, I receive directions with a blank stare, unable to even pronounce street names as the Greek script is outside of my realm of Latin based languages.
While Nadia was at work, I left her home to journey the six miles to city center to pick up ten ukuleles. I closed her door behind me and walked into a world in which I would be unable to even give my address to a taxi driver if necessary. (I considered stealing a piece of Nadia’s mail with her address) I headed towards the train station, an indecipherable fifteen minute walk, and I proceeded to double back multiple times. It did not help that up to this point Nadia had, without malice, managed to take a different way home from the train station each time we returned. My phone and maps sat uselessly in Chicago.
The following night, after meeting up with Mariza and hearing Polyphonica, her Athens choir, sing, I stood alone at midnight near the tunnel of the Monastiraki train stop waiting for the next train north. The sound of clanking silverware from above mingled with the plaintive modal melody of a bouzouki as a dry wind passed through the tunnel heralding the arrival of the next train. Directly across the tracks from me, a couple made out voraciously.
Sometimes, getting lost is being found.
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