My Heart is in Athens

As my parents and I roamed the festive streets of Athens, Greece, we came across a small, family-run restaurant to have dinner at. After eating my weight in pita bread, tzatziki, and other traditional Greek foods, my dad and I decided to step outside to enjoy Athens at dusk. Adjacent to where we stood, we could see a small building from which Greek disco music was blasting. We peered through the grimy windows and saw that the room was crammed with dancing Athenians, and a small live band was playing in the corner. Before I could register anything else, a barrage of carnations was forcefully thrown at me. I slightly annoyed and taken aback as I looked up, only to see a middle-aged man at the doorway of the club smiling at us and yelling “OPAH!”
“Come on in! Join the party!” he said with a heavy Greek accent. He then proceeded to toss flowers in my dad’s face. I looked at my dad, who wore an expression that said, “Why not?” so we stepped inside the crowded room, leaving the cool breeze of the night behind.
The first thing that hit me was the scent. The air in the room was packed densely with smoke, and the people swirling around me had cigarettes casually placed between their lips. I was disgusted, and wanted to get out as soon as possible, but it was too late- we were already in the center of the crowd, and the sticky, hot atmosphere made me panic. I looked around for my dad, who was making his way towards the bar. I felt like everything inside (and outside) of me was buzzing, and I wanted to escape the scene. Eventually, I reached my father, and we stood next to each other, staring at the happening before us.
“This is loud. And crazy. Wanna go back out?” asked my dad. We had only been there for around 30 seconds, but suddenly, I didn’t want to leave.
“Just a sec, dad,” I said as a man handed us two plates full of flowers, “I want to get the real Greek experience.” I looked at the man who had just handed us the flowers quizzically.
“Trow dem,” he said solemnly, almost looking bored. It took less than an instant for my dad to fling his flowers at the man, who broke into a huge, crooked-toothed grin.
Where should I throw mine? I want to make it special, I wondered, my full plate of flowers still in hand. I looked around the room, smoky air still stinging my nose. As my dad mentioned that we should probably head out, I had the perfect idea. As we headed for the door, we walked past the live band, where a man was singing a slow, romantic song. He looked at me, and I smiled innocently before I whipped out a handful of flowers behind my back and threw them at the face of the singer. He paused mid-song, stumbled for a moment, then got back to the song, his eyes twinkling as he tried to hold back a smile.
As we stepped out of the bar, relieved to be breathing fresh air again, I knew I would remember that moment. We later found that the traditional Greek way to show that you were enjoying yourself was to smash plates at the ground, but through the years, it became too dangerous as well as expensive, so the Greeks substituted it with throwing flowers at one another.
What differentiated that moment from the others my family and I shared in Greece was that I discovered what a powerful thing tradition could be that night. America doesn’t have as much tradition as the other places I have traveled, such as India and Greece, and seeing ancient traditions still alive today is truly incredible. When restaurant owners started losing money on plate-breaking, that didn’t stop the Greeks from expressing their pleasure. Instead, they found a (perhaps better) solution, and went on partying. This made me think back to all of the ancient civilizations we had seen the days leading up to that night, and how those things, so old and seemingly far away, still have an influence on Greek’s current culture. Because of the ancient civilizations, local business workers are afraid to build on unused property, because often times there will be remains of a civilization below it, which the government will buy from the owner for a meager price. It was that night that I realized why the tour guides who had showed us around was so passionate about their country: there was a lot to be proud of. There are so many places with rich cultures, and nothing can stop tradition.