Pythia Says:

Last weekend, feeling lost at sea, I took a trip to Delphi to consult the oracle. Delphi is both a town and an archeological site, set in the mountains and bordered by the ocean. It's a three hour bus ride northwest of Athens.

The word "Delphi" derives from the same roots as the word "delphys," meaning womb. In ancient Greece, this site was considered the center of the earth, where the earth's "navel" (omphalos) was situated. The greek words for brother, sister, and cousin also include "delphi" - (Adelphos, Adelphi, and Xadelphos/phi).

If you've heard of Delphi, it's probably been in relation to the oracle. (That's all I'd heard about it, at least). But everything at the site, oracle included, stems from the God Apollo.

Apollo was God of light and sun and a whole slew of other things, too - I'm a little baffled as to how one God got to reign over both "medicine," for example, and "the sun." Couldn't they have divvied up responsibilities a little better?

Anyways. Originally, the site was named "Pytho," because this horrible dragon (Python) lived there and protected the Earth's precious belly button. Apollo arrived by sea in the shape of a dolphin, carrying Cretan priests on his back, and slayed the Python. The site was then dedicated to the worship of Apollo, and the oracle delivered prophecies she received from the sun god.



Mythology/etymology overload. Sorry.

Why would I need to consult the oracle?
I guess I've been feeling pretty up and down.
Ups:
At my core (navel), I'm really happy to be here. I'm very proud of myself for having come. It was a big risk to take, and because things have turned out remarkably well, I feel encouraged to take more big risks in life (not like trying heroin for kicks, I mean intelligent, worthwhile risks, like perhaps living in a foreign country again). Coming here has given me a huge confidence boost - I carry a feeling or pride in my decision with me throughout the day. So rah rah!

I've begun taking voice lessons and private Greek lessons, which has been pretty cool, yet also a huge drain on my already low income.

I don't miss Brown nearly as much as I thought I would. Being busy certainly helps. I quite like not having school work hanging over my head at all times. This is a pleasant surprise, because I thought I'd be wishing I was back at Brown all the time. I think this job is just about the best "transition" job anyone could ask for.

The "slow pace of life" in Greece has led me to feel pretty relaxed, overall.  I'm sleeping very well.

Downs:
I won't get into it in too much detail right now, because it merits its own post, but there are some maddening aspects of Greek life. Things are just so freakin inefficient. The "slow pace of life" is definitely a double edged sword. Sometimes at school I feel like I'm going to scream. A lot of time gets wasted.
To give you an example of how the "relaxed lifestyle" permeates every aspect of Greek culture, consider  this: one of the very first verbs they teach you (after to be and to want) is the verb "perimenos" - to wait.

Hanging out with the same nine other Americans is getting frustrating, too. I like them, but the purpose of my being here is to experience Greek culture, and that can be difficult when I hang out with the same English speakers 24/7. Making Greek friends has proven rather difficult - sure, there are some older Greek men who seem pretty keen to hang out, but I'd love to meet someone sub-30. Someone who actually just wants to hang out. Period.

So I went to ask the oracle for advice. Unfortunately, she's no longer in business. Actually, I went to Delphi with four other female teaching fellows to get out of the Athenian smog and away from the boys in the group, who have been real assholes of late.

In some strange "grasping for similarities" way, Delphi reminded me a bit of Mount Desert Island, in Maine. I suppose it's just because both have mountains and sea. Odd things in Greece remind me of home - the smallest similarities are amplified, because overall the spaces are so different.

If I had come here in 393 AD, when the last recorded prophecy was given, here's what would have happened. A young girl (probably in her early teens) who had assumed the title "Pythia"(High Priestess of the Temple of Apollo) would sit inside the temple and place her hands on the "navel," a chasm in the rock from which trance inducing vapours emerged. These got her pretty high, and she began to speak gibberish. Priests would then take her words and reshape them into incredibly enigmatic prophecies, which invariably came true because they were so vague. The young girl usually wouldn't live for very long, because the gasses she inhaled were rather poisonous.

I learned all of this from an English speaking tour guide who was touring a group of elderly Californians around the site. They were happy to let us join in the group. One woman kept asking us about the Greek men.

Still making lots of feline friends.