Monday, March 17, 2008
March Madness
As for the rest of my picks? Well, I'll just leave you with them and you can mock the rest:
Elite 8:
North Carolina vs. Tennessee (see, I can be reasonable!)
Vanderbilt vs. Kansas State (Beasley is the best player in college basketball; I almost transfered to Vanderbilt; the logic for this one is flawless)
Memphis vs. Texas (A toss up for this one but despite Texas having home-court advantage I like Memphis. After all, they smoked Pepperdine and stole our offense, so there's that... which is nice)
UConn vs. Xavier (My homestate school versus my brother's former school? Xavier takes this one but I'll say it's close)
Final 4:
North Carolina vs. Vanderbilt (The Cinderella-ish story ends. Carolina is just toooooo good. And they're not Duke.)
Memphis vs. Xavier (Once again, reality strikes. Still, Tennessee should be happy with one team in the finals)
Finals:
Memphis over North Carolina (It'll be close, but I like Memphis to pull this one out. Unless it comes down to free throws, I think they'll be just too much for the Tar Heels)
Eat your heart out Digger Phelps.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
They Care More Over There Than We Do Here
http://www.connpost.com//ci_8577872?IADID
They care more over there than we do here
When those words were penned by an Englishman known for his creative and lyrical prowess, the world was a much different place than it is now. But even though The Who songwriter Pete Townshend was openly chastising the hippie movement that was engrossing a generation of youth, the words could just as easily be applied to more recent circumstances. Indeed, many here in Europe apply that message to American politics over the past few decades. One politician is no different than the one before. But this election cycle promises to bring about very tangible change no matter who claims victory and everyone abroad knows it.
As a political science student studying abroad in London this spring, I've had the unique opportunity to engage Europeans in their thoughts on American politics. Coaxing opinions out of people over here isn't terribly hard. In fact, they do all the work for me. Upon hearing my accent, and verifying I'm indeed an American, and not a "boring" Canadian, the discussion usually turns almost immediately here to politics.
Now here is when I normally get worried. I was warned before my travels abroad of rampant anti-Americanism. A "they-hate-us-because-we-hate-them-because-they're-jealous-of-us" kind of thing. But you know what? In every conversation I've had with the English, Irish, Welsh or even French, politics always revolves around sincere curiosity and fascination with the American political system. Whither the anti-American fervor that was supposed to mar my experience abroad? I'm not doubting there are people here who dislike Americans on the whole, it's just that those I've come across everywhere from trains to pubs to supermarkets have been nothing but respectful and polite as to what I think is going to happen in the presidential race of 2008.
And, of course, everyone has their point of view as to what they think will happen. Everyone likes to pretend to be pundits, both domestically and abroad. That much is universal. But their questions are what grip me. Rather, the genuine interest they have in American politics is what strikes me the most. Many Europeans are more educated, or at least attentive, than Americans, and they aren't being saturated with Hillary Clinton attack ads or Barack Obama debate barbs.
The questions I get asked the most are perhaps the ones that resonate loudest across the American kitchen tables. Will America really elect a black president? Or a woman? Or a 72-year-old man, for that matter? And when they stop their questions and leave me to my response, I tend to have trouble explaining the full complexities in the presidential race that are going on in a manner that would take less than a few hours. Usually, I just throw another question right back at them.
Sure, why not?
So when British talk show host Alan Titchmarsh rhetorically asked on the trailer for his Super Tuesday show, "Just why do us Brits care so much about the American election and Super Tuesday?" the answer seemed clear to me. It is fascinating; it's become worldwide entertainment. But is that what we want? Perhaps a nice, boring primary and a civil electoral system would put a dent in CNN ratings and throw many a pundit out on the street. Seems like a fine trade-off to me. Then again, I have a much better time explaining politics at a pub than all the rules of baseball. Bah, let's keep it the way it is, then.
Thomas Lambert of Fairfield is a sophomore at Pepperdine University in Malibu, Calif. You can find out more about his adventures abroad on his blog, "A Connecticut Yankee In:" at http://forum.connpost.com/ctyankee/.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Garbage Strike: It Stinks
After a six hour ferry ride back to Athens, though, the sight was less than welcoming. A garbage strike is in its most agonizing throes and its beginning to become obvious. Huge piles of trash scar the streets and for the first time I'm beginning to see the not so nice side to this city. Even one of our cabbies in Mykonos (the one who invited us to dinner) was criticizing the capital, explaining how while "everyone deserves their rights, the current situation is not good for the health. No good will come from this strike. It's getting crazy." The Mount Olympus sized mounds of rubbish are evidence to his prosecution: it is indeed nuts how gross this can get. Indeed, the Europeans' favorite past time of going on strike stains the image of some of their most prized jewels of cities. Perhaps that's the least appealing image I've taken from my travels here abroad, but it's just natural from near-Socialist countries that populate this continent. It's just a shame when politics gets in the way of an incredible experience... and I was just falling in love with Athens, too. Hopefully I will again. Well, as soon as they pick up the garbage.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Enrolled
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Live from Mykonos!
Tomorrow we're hoping for the same luck weather wise as it was absolutely gorgeous. I even have some faint traces of the tan I worked so hard on last year at school in Malibu. While nothing is guaranteed, we have found plenty of things to do to keep us entertained, plus registration for my classes for next year is tomorrow. And that's always a big deal as traditionally we plan out our schedules only to watch as one by one the classes fill up before our very eyes and we are stuck with our fifth choices. Ugh.
Anyways, I hope to post some more with further thoughts on my experiences here in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I've fallen in love with everywhere I've gone, and each strike me with alternating feelings of summering there, retiring there, or honeymooning there. But Greece so far, especially the islands, take the cake. I love London, but wow, Greece is beyond anything I was expecting.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Back to the Stone Age
Monday, March 10, 2008
Street Fighting Man
One of the ways we thought we could plunge into the Greek culture was participating in the Greek Carnival, a pre-Lenten celebration of the Greek Orthodox churchgoers (that number around 95% here) that is akin to our Mardi Gras, though spread our across several weeks. We experienced it in Nice, France last month and attended their parade and partying. There were common themes that resurfaced like children in costumes and general merriment. But what took us by surprise involved the substitute of silly string, which was employed by many an annoying youth, with bats. Actually, more like clubs.

In a tradition that harkens back to the military nature of the ancient Greek city states, namely Sparta, people beat each other... for fun... during the nights of Carnival. And I don't mean light tapping with these blunt objects, I mean physical brawls that break out in the middle of the street. And all in the name of fun. Or at least its supposed to be that way. Lucky for us, we decided to see what was going on during Carnival in a group, so by the time we started getting bludgeoned (despite being unarmed), we were able to seize a local armory and acquire weapons for us to defend ourselves. Then we tapped into our inner Spartan warrior and fully participated in the street fights that ensued. Sure there were little children who would playfully smack us and we would pleasantly ignore, but oftentimes the 8-15 year old boys, hopped up on what must be the Greek equivalent of Pixie Stix, were the most vicious. They wouldn't prey on the good looking American girls like the other noticeable demographic of Carnival soldiers (25-35 year old bachelors), but often times the middle schoolers would wield uncontrollable force behind their bats and definitely fight dirty. Since they were young, we couldn't in good conscience fight back at them. Unfortunately, they knew this.
By the second night of it, we were good and ready for the confrontations that would take place. We developed our own attack tactics and battle cries. We even had photographers at the ready, documenting our struggle through the Plaka. Testosterone pumping, we tore through the streets, signaling and being challenged through war-like ground-pounding with our clubs and charges reminiscent of Celtic warriors. I gave out and took my beatings like the rest of the War Council (the name given for the warrior men in our group), once suffering punishing blows by no less than seven Greek high schoolers at once. I'm pretty sure my medulla oblongata is bruised. Oh well. It's all in good fun, right?
I guess these are the barriers needed to overcome in our effort to integrate in Greek culture. Our baptism-by-beating notwithstanding, I think we are all doing surprisingly well trying to get a grasp on what is kosher here in Athens and what is not. And there is still plenty more to conquer. But at this point I'm confident we'll be able to thoroughly participate in this foreign culture by the end of our stay here in the Near-East. Otherwise, we may be in for some cultural beatings that make our physical ones look tame. And believe me, they weren't.