As I prepare to return to Austria after 3-1/2 months
in Greece, key impressions of my stay here come to mind. Right near the top
would by my visit to the Mount Athos peninsula about a month ago; my third
visit to the peninsula. Below are some impressions.
Costas (from Athens) and I are sitting in a cave at
the boat landing site of Skiti Kafsokalivion watching the stormy rain pouring
down, the huge waves braking at the dock and hoping that a boat will come to rescue us. This is the southernmost point of the peninsula; sort of the end of the world. It
is my second day on Athos. I had planned to spend four days. Right now, in the
middle of the storm, I just want to see a boat come around the cape and
pick us up and take us back to Ouranoupolis.
24 hours earlier, things had been quite fine. I had
arrived at Skiti Ag. Annas, where I had been before, and the plan was to walk
to Kafsokalivion on day 1; from there to Prodromou on day 2; and from there to
Megisti Lavra on day 3. From Lavra, I would take the bus back to Dafni to catch
the ferry boat back to Ouranopoulis.
A minor problem: I had only checked the horizontal distances of the path. I should have checked the altitude changes as well! By the time I had
made it to Kafsokalivion (first 800 meters up and then 800 meters down!), I was
exhausted. Then the rain storm began. Then the electricity at the church where
Costas and I stayed went out. No way to charge a mobile phone. No way to communicate outside. No way to read
anything. No way to talk because there was no talking at the church. No way to
consider climbing back 800 meters in altitude during a rain storm. In short:
trapped at the end of the world with the only hope that a rescue boat would
come.
Costas and I are just about to give up when a miracle seems to unfold. Clap, clap, clap. We hear approaching sounds. Suddenly, a young man appears with four mules in tow. It is Elias and he is Albanian. He is here to transport materials from the boat to the church. Elias doesn't think the boat will come but he is here anyway.
Elias comes across as a smart cookie; in fact, a bit precocious. While Costas and I are ill equipped for the rough weather, Elias has a heavy (and expensive!) raincoat and big rubber boots. No way that he is going to get wet! I strike up a conversation with Elias. Before long, I have the strong feeling that he has classified us as 'dumb tourists'. I am sort of impressed by his natural, cocky self-confidence. Costas, a rather cultured Greek, tells me that the Albanian is just silly. He has no culture. Yeah, I tell Costas, but he looks like a survivor...
Elias has decided that no boat will come and sets out to return to the church 300 meters up the mountain. I ask him whether I could ride on one of his mules and he says yes - for 10 Euros. And, he adds, another 5 Euros for my rucksack. I tell him that this is very expensive and he tells me that it is not. 'What's 10 Euros? Just a couple of packs of cigarettes', Elias explains to me. I tell him that it is a question of having 10 Euros or not having them. Elias is not impressed.
I tell Elias that I will pay him 10 Euros but carry the rucksack on my back. He says that this will create balancing problems for me. I remain stubborn (because I don't want Elias to literally take me for a ride) and keep the rucksack on my back. And for the next half hour, I learn everything about balancing problems when riding a mule with a rucksack on one's back...
By the time we got back to the church, it seemed that Elias, Costas and I had become rather good partners. Not friends, because Costas didn't think that Elias had culture. And Elias probably thought that both of us were rather dumb (or cultured, for that matter). But we were in conversation. Elias told us that he had been working in several European countries. The last ones were Switzerland and France. He had made good money wherever he was. Now he would stay in Kafsokalivion until next summer. The monks gave him shelter and food in exchange for work he did, and on the side he could make money with his mule business. In the summer he would go back to Albania where the beaches are wonderful and the girls are beautiful. After all, he would have to spend all the money he earned.
I finally agreed to pay Elias 25 Euros to take me up to the top of the path the next morning, and I gave him the money upfront. Costas said he would walk because he didn't want to be taken for a ride by an uncultured Albanian.
The next morning, Costas and I wanted Elias to put our rucksacks on the mule. Elias said that this would be another 15 Euros. Grudingly, we agreed to pay him, and we would pay him once we reached the top. Good thing we did because the path was narrow and the cliffs were steep. One small imbalancing with my rucksack and I might have gone down the cliff.
As we chatted along the way, Elias told me that he could also take me up all the way to the top of Mount Athos. 100 Euros would be the price. I laughed and suggested that he was crazy.
At the top, Costas pulled out 7,50 Euros for his rucksack. I had no coins and only 50 Euro bills. Elias had no change. BUT: I happened to have a 10 Swiss Franc bill which I gave Elias in lieu of 10 Euros. And then, in the middle of nowhere, one-third up Mount Athos, the uncultured young Albanian said to me:
"Ten Swiss Francs are only 8 Euros at current exchange rates".
Little had I known that the young, uncultured Albanian was also a foreign exchange expert. Neither had the cultured Costas known that 10 Swiss Francs were worth only 8 Euros...
As Costas and I continued our walk back to Ag. Annas, I pondered the idea of ever being at the top of Mount Athos, albeit at the cost of 100 Euros.
By the time we were on the boat back to Ouranopoulis, I felt rather certain that, possibly next year, I would take up Elias on his offer to take me up to Mount Athos. What the heck! He may be taking me for a ride but what an unforgettable ride it would be!
However, there is ONE experience I had many years ago which I am now reminded of very often. The American bank where I spent my first career had 3 large units in Greece and I was supposed to take over country management in 1986 (shortly before that happened, my bank sold the Greek operations to NatWest and that was the end of my wife’s dream of returning to Greece, but that is a different and very complicated story…). We were based in Argentina then and I once had the visit of a colleague/friend, an American who had been country manager in Greece in the 1970s. He felt he had to coach me a bit as regarded my future job in Greece and said some like this: “You know our job application form has sections on ‘personal strengths’ and ‘areas for improvement’. You will find that Greek job applicants leave the ‘areas for improvement’ blank. When I first noticed this, I thought they were inhibited to put anything in writing and would prefer to discuss this in the personal interview. The strange thing was that, even in the personal interview, they would not volunteer any ‘personal areas for improvement’. Not because they seemed inhibited or embarrassed or anything like that. No, they were quite natural about it. They simply could not address the issue that they might have ‘personal areas for improvement’. I should add that we never had anything but the best experiences with local staff!"
A good friend of mine, a Brit who is now retired, spent the last 10 years of his career as a bank consultant based in Greece (his wife is Greek). His projects would always take him to far away places. I once asked him why he wouldn’t seek consulting mandates from Greek banks. His answer? “That would be masochistic! You cannot consult Greeks because they already have all the answers. They will not accept your advice. They will, instead, pretend that, whatever you tell them, they knew it already, anyway”.
In my early years of schooling in Austria, we learned about ancient Greeks' themes like ‘know thyself’, ‘accept yourself’, ‘know that you know nothing’, etc. etc. Somehow, it seems that these themes got lost through the centuries.
One of the key aspects of the Greek mentality, to me, is this ‘susceptibility to flattery’. It is referred to in the Encyclopedia article but also in a briefing which a former US ambassadador once cabled to Washington (published by Wikileaks). He said: “The Greeks are susceptible to flattery and quick to be offended by a perceived slight”. This susceptibility to flattery, one might also think of it as a bit of gullibility, is, to me, a landmark characteristic. Greek voters seem to fall for politicians who are good at playing on these susceptibilities. Someone like Alexis Tsipras strikes me as an expert at this game.
I have visited, as a guest, all 5 or 6 Rotary Clubs in Thessaloniki. Between them, I could easily form at least one complete Greek government of responsible and professional leaders who know what they are doing. Add to that the thousands and thousands of Greeks who have the same capabilities. Consider that against the certainly millions of decent Greeks who would like to be governed by decent leaders. The resources are there! They just don’t seem to come together.
The widely spread ‘Greek irrationality’ is part of the great charme of Greeks and it can be a lot of fun to watch; in relaxed times, I hasten to add. In stressed times, that irrationality can take one’s nerves apart (and I say this after close to 40 years of marriage with a Greek…). Colleagues at my first employer who had spent time in Greece would crack the joke that “Greeks gave the logic to the world. The only problem is that the world never gave it back to them”. Good for a lot of laughter. When it plays out in serious reality, it can drive someone nuts.
In conclusion: since I didn’t have a short answer to your question, I had to write this long piece but I, nevertheless, hope that you can understand what I am trying to get across.