In our corner of Athens, a little neighborhood called the Plaka is our go-to place for any souvenir shopping/fun seeking/acropolis touring endeavors. It's a large square chop-full of vendors selling everything from mass-produced tourist magnets to hand made rugs. While learning how to use the Metro is an adventure in and of itself, walking through the Plaka introduces a completely different style of shopping.
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| Lookin' too fly on the Metro. |
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| An unusual photo op. Usually we're too packed in like sardines to take pics. |
As I said before, though, the Plaka is an experience unlike any other. I don't know how many of you are "in the know" regarding this particular aspect of Greek culture, but their shop-keeping methods are decidedly different from those in the States. In the U.S., we vigorously cling to anonymity when out and about, preferring to be left to our own devices. Sure, managers and employees typically wander around asking people if they need assistance, but once you say "no thank you" they respectfully back away. The absolute opposite happens here.
It's virtually impossible to walk down the streets of the Plaka without being bombarded with sales people. Usually, it involves middle-aged men shoving menus in your face or yelling about some sort of cheap jewelry for the pretty girls. Thanks to these bo-zos, we've masterfully developed a system of looking straight ahead and bulldozing our way through, making as little eye-contact as possible. Even then, though, the salesmen literally chases after you, asking about where you're from and if you'd like to sit and enjoy a nice frappe at his lovely cafe. I swear, one of these days someone's going to get punched in the face. No, really. It's quickly approaching the point of no return.
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| How is it that no one has pictures of the Plaka? This was really the only one I could find. Thanks, Jimmy! |
If simply walking down the street isn't difficult enough, God-forbid you actually go into one of the stores. Every time we look even remotely interested in an item, the store clerk immediately starts with the "this, only three Euros" or the "I make you a better price, eight Euro for two". Really, kind sir, I was just looking. It's not like it was written in the stars that I should buy this bust of Achilles. Just passing the time, honest.
Despite the ridiculously obnoxious vendors, though, walking around the Plaka is always a great experience. The merchandise is so varied that you can find everything you're looking for in that one little strip. Going to the Plaka more frequently has also helped me come to an understanding regarding the more pushy details of Greek culture. Yes, tourists and locals alike weave through each and every shop, but it's also very common to see groups of pick-pocketers ready and raring to start problems. As a store owner, you have to keep a close eye on whomever enters your premises, because you never know when someone is out to do you harm. Though we nearly always look like innocent, idiot Americans wherever we go, they have no way of knowing if we're vagabond purse snatchers or in league with the Albanian gypsies.
For instance, Bri, Corey, and Becca led us to a hole-in-the-wall icon store in which Allison, Lauren, and I were introduced to our new friend Stratos. As any good Greek should, we focused on the relationship style of shopping rather than the fast-paced American way. We had a grand old time chatting with Stratos about good places to go to the beach near Athens and nice restaurants to look for while on Hydra. At one point in our conversation, though, Stratos glanced over to these two gentlemen hovering by the entrance. Other than their cocky aura, most of us girls didn't notice anything strange about them, but Stratos looked a little cautious. It was when they started pestering Stratos's parents that he sent them out of the shop and far, far away.
Afterwards, when we questioned Stratos about what just happened, he simply said "You know, I just don't like looking at some people's faces. You can just tell when they're about to cause trouble." Sure enough, Allison had been keeping an eye on the strangers as well, and she informed us that they were eyeing our bags the entire time they were in the shop.
I suppose in order to be successful in the Plaka, you have to be wary of wrong-doers of all appearances and ages. That would at least explain the hovering shop-owners, for they all have to protect their keep. (The awful restaurant spokesmen, on the other hand...that's another story.) In fact, this family's little store was robbed just a couple weeks ago, so clearly burglary is a prominent issue in the Plaka area of Athens. At first I was really impressed by his ability to discern the men's purpose with a single glance, but it's probably a skill that all the shop-owners in the Plaka have developed. It's there sixth sense, and without it their stores wouldn't do half as well. (Don't get me wrong, it's still an impressive feat, but it's not something that I associate with Stratos himself anymore.)
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| Complementary souvenir, generously given to us by Stratos. Apparently, it's a good luck charm that the Israelites would make by mixing wax from the tomb of Jesus with various herbs and spices. |
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