Something I wanted to add to the previous post

the Grill House of the Greek immigrant Peter Atcas in Minneapolis.
I was talking about preparations of departure, therefore the comment must be about analogies in vocabulary, which add details or leave areas of vagueness in languages and reflect a lot about history and cultural experience. I am not talking about the general notions, because after all, one can find terms and space for footnotes that give the general meaning, and this makes anyway the process of translation possible. But how are things when it comes to the special emotional gravity of preferred terms? I have been thinking about the english term "immigration" and its latin origin "immigrare"= to go into, which describes neutrally the action of moving. On the other hand, in Greek and Arabic, the terms which are popular in folk culture (songs, poems, postcards, letters to relatives on the occasions of feasts) are respectively "ξενιτιά" ξενιτειά<ξένος = stanger and ghareeb =stranger> غربة
Probably it is not a coincidence the fact of the similarity in the underlying concept. Besides, in english, I think that the terms alienation and estrangement have a broader sense, not specifically assigned to the feeling of the place that holds one's life, with uncommon streets, uncommon tastes, silences, music, arrangement of the public and the private; the details, I mean, that make the bread taste bitter in many greek songs dealing with the immigrants who lead a double life: strangers here and there. Having the same concept about the term, I rarely felt a stranger here.
(the sign of a Lebanese community in Argentina in various languages)

Ceremonies of Departure, always...

May arrives always fast; it is a period of rounding up the teaching material, since the final exams have started being the main concern of the students. According to the course outline, every time I have to compare expectations, information and actual achievements, then I have to take into consideration the need for some revision. Therefore, in counting and calculating I reach the last few days of the month, which pave the avenue to the travel agent, who issues my flight-ticket: on it one finds the description of a period, the dates and the possibilities of an extension, up to three months, which I try not to exploit. Non transferable, non refundable... Repetition gives good chances for anticipation, I mean that i can imagine my first days in Athens with my closest friends, the walks and the hours of silence I invent for myself, in coffeeshops that allow watching the traffic of the city, the exhausting summer light on the classical monuments and some diving in the material form of the newspapers, which in Jordan I visit only through selective webpages. This summer, Amorgos, my Utopian Island, is a possibility, in case I persuade Voula and Pelagia to join. But I would rather not do it alone, I feel not strong enough for such an encounter with its people and nature. Last time (two years ago) it was a tearful experience, with confessional discussions, swimming for hours and views taking me from the rocks and the windmills to my heart and the insistant poison of memory. And after that, the "reality", the practicalities of my issues in Greece, family, the circle of Thessaloniki... Perhaps the best thing for me to do would be to kidnap parents or Mikhalis and travel to Bulgaria for some days, to feel- among the trees of Sofia- the familiarity of something known and not mine. This condition creates much less obligations.
The photo is from the 1991 film of Pantelis Voulgaris, Quiet Days of August, although most of the scenes of the wonderful movie describe events of the late afternoon and the deep melancholy of the Athenian night, in August http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/movie.html?v_id=211134 . Everything gets gradually deserted, the streets, the noise of life, the conversations with friends. Aleka Paize in some of her most beautiful parts in Greek filmography, survives through the old-fashioned voice of the radio broadcaster. She examines the signs of time on her old body, and finds them incompatible with the yearning of her young soul, in front of the mirror while the small electrical fan cools down the stream of sweat.
Και εκεί ακούγεται με τις φωνές του Λιούγκου(ίσως) και της Βενετσάνου (σίγουρα) ο μάγος Χατζιδάκις των τελευταίων έργων του:

"Μες στη ζεστή νύχτα του Αυγούστου,
Το φως στο δρόμο καίγεται
Και η ψυχή μου αδείαζει καθώς αυτός δε φαίνεται
το πάθος ξεθωριάζει.
Κι εκείνη, κι εκείνη
μια φωτεινή γραμμή,
στο αντικρινό παράθυρο ποτέ δε θα φανεί"
Είναι από τα ελάχιστα τραγούδια που μολονότι δεν έχω σε δίσκο- ποτέ δεν κυκλοφόρησε το έργο κανονικά- απομνημόνευσα σε μηδενικό χρόνο και δεν έχασα ποτέ την ευκαιρία να τραγουδήσω σιγανά κάτω από τους πιο διαφορετικούς ουρανούς και, δόξα τω Θεώ, από το 1991 κι εντεύθεν κάμποσοι ουρανοί μεσολάβησαν.

the Loot of Croesus

"Homer's world, not ours"
W.H.Auden

The name Croesus became an expression mostly, signifying the extremely rich person, the tycoon, whose fortune keeps growing without him knowing exactly how or being able to control the miraculous felicity. Nevertheless, some echo from the international press brings the real person (the wealthy king of Lydia, 6th c. B.C.) back to the section of Breaking News. The director of the museum of the turkish city of Usak is in custody because he is suspected for helping smugglers to steal two pieces from the Treasure of Croesus exhibited at the local museum and replace them by replicas. A bracelet and a coin, both golden and, reasonably, causing the Fever of Gold. In classical Greek texts the oriental king Croesus appears in the Historiae of Herodotus (5th c. B.C.), and gives way to a useful contemplation about the meaning of happiness, achievement and prosperity. The king once met with the Athenian legislator Solon and wanted to confirm that he was the happiest person living on earth: Solon did not give him the expected credits, and told him some stories of genuine happiness and honour instead. Soon Croesus, defeated by Cyrus, the Persian ruler, thought of the Athenian wise man in melancholy. May I quote from the text in translation?

"...When all these conquests had been added to the Lydian empire, and the prosperity of Sardis was now at its height, there came thither, one after another, all the sages of Greece living at the time, and among them Solon, the Athenian. He was on his travels, having left Athens to be absent ten years, under the pretence of wishing to see the world, but really to avoid being forced to repeal any of the laws which, at the request of the Athenians, he had made for them. Without his sanction the Athenians could not repeal them, as they had bound themselves under a heavy curse to be governed for ten years by the laws which should be imposed on them by Solon. On this account, as well as to see the world, Solon set out upon his travels, in the course of which he went to Egypt to the court of Amasis, and also came on a visit to Croesus at Sardis.

Croesus received him as his guest, and lodged him in the royal palace. On the third or fourth day after, he bade his servants conduct Solon. over his treasuries, and show him all their greatness and magnificence. When he had seen them all, and, so far as time allowed, inspected them, Croesus addressed this question to him. "Stranger of Athens, we have heard much of thy wisdom and of thy travels through many lands, from love of knowledge and a wish to see the world. I am curious therefore to inquire of thee, whom, of all the men that thou hast seen, thou deemest the most happy?" This he asked because he thought himself the happiest of mortals: but Solon answered him without flattery, according to his true sentiments, "Tellus of Athens, sire." Full of astonishment at what he heard, Croesus demanded sharply, "And wherefore dost thou deem Tellus happiest?" To which the other replied, "First, because his country was flourishing in his days, and he himself had sons both beautiful and good, and he lived to see children born to each of them, and these children all grew up; and further because, after a life spent in what our people look upon as comfort, his end was surpassingly glorious. In a battle between the Athenians and their neighbours near Eleusis, he came to the assistance of his countrymen, routed the foe, and died upon the field most gallantly. The Athenians gave him a public funeral on the spot where he fell, and paid him the highest honours." Thus did Solon admonish Croesus by the example of Tellus, enumerating the manifold particulars of his happiness. When he had ended, Croesus inquired a second time, who after Tellus seemed to him the happiest, expecting that at any rate, he would be given the second place.

"Cleobis and Bito," Solon answered; "they were of Argive race; their fortune was enough for their wants, and they were besides endowed with so much bodily strength that they had both gained prizes at the Games. Also this tale is told of them:- There was a great festival in honour of the goddess Juno at Argos, to which their mother must needs be taken in a car. Now the oxen did not come home from the field in time: so the youths, fearful of being too late, put the yoke on their own necks, and themselves drew the car in which their mother rode. Five and forty furlongs did they draw her, and stopped before the temple. This deed of theirs was witnessed by the whole assembly of worshippers, and then their life closed in the best possible way. Herein, too, God showed forth most evidently, how much better a thing for man death is than life. For the Argive men, who stood around the car, extolled the vast strength of the youths; and the Argive women extolled the mother who was blessed with such a pair of sons; and the mother herself, overjoyed at the deed and at the praises it had won, standing straight before the image, besought the goddess to bestow on Cleobis and Bito, the sons who had so mightily honoured her, the highest blessing to which mortals can attain. Her prayer ended, they offered sacrifice and partook of the holy banquet, after which the two youths fell asleep in the temple. They never woke more, but so passed from the earth. The Argives, looking on them as among the best of men, caused statues of them to be made, which they gave to the shrine at Delphi."

When Solon had thus assigned these youths the second place, Croesus broke in angrily, "What, stranger of Athens, is my happiness, then, so utterly set at nought by thee, that thou dost not even put me on a level with private men?" "Oh! Croesus," replied the other, "thou askedst a question concerning the condition of man, of one who knows that the power above us is full of jealousy, and fond of troubling our lot. A long life gives one to witness much, and experience much oneself, that one would not choose. Seventy years I regard as the limit of the life of man. In these seventy years are contained, without reckoning intercalary months, twenty-five thousand and two hundred days. Add an intercalary month to every other year, that the seasons may come round at the right time, and there will be, besides the seventy years, thirty-five such months, making an addition of one thousand and fifty days. The whole number of the days contained in the seventy years will thus be twenty-six thousand two hundred and fifty, whereof not one but will produce events unlike the rest. Hence man is wholly accident. For thyself, oh! Croesus, I see that thou art wonderfully rich, and art the lord of many nations; but with respect to that whereon thou questionest me, I have no answer to give, until I hear that thou hast closed thy life happily. For assuredly he who possesses great store of riches is no nearer happiness than he who has what suffices for his daily needs, unless it so hap that luck attend upon him, and so he continue in the enjoyment of all his good things to the end of life. For many of the wealthiest men have been unfavoured of fortune, and many whose means were moderate have had excellent luck. Men of the former class excel those of the latter but in two respects; these last excel the former in many. The wealthy man is better able to content his desires, and to bear up against a sudden buffet of calamity. The other has less ability to withstand these evils (from which, however, his good luck keeps him clear), but he enjoys all these following blessings: he is whole of limb, a stranger to disease, free from misfortune, happy in his children, and comely to look upon. If, in addition to all this, he end his life well, he is of a truth the man of whom thou art in search, the man who may rightly be termed happy. Call him, however, until he die, not happy but fortunate. Scarcely, indeed, can any man unite all these advantages: as there is no country which contains within it all that it needs, but each, while it possesses some things, lacks others, and the best country is that which contains the most; so no single human being is complete in every respect- something is always lacking. He who unites the greatest number of advantages, and retaining them to the day of his death, then dies peaceably, that man alone, sire, is, in my judgment, entitled to bear the name of 'happy.' But in every matter it behoves us to mark well the end: for oftentimes God gives men a gleam of happiness, and then plunges them into ruin." Such was the speech which Solon addressed to Croesus, a speech which brought him neither largess nor honour. The king saw him depart with much indifference, since he thought that a man must be an arrant fool who made no account of present good, but bade men always wait and mark the end. "
Herodotus, Historiae I, Clio

On many occasions I find it difficult to narrate these stories that were given to us as introductory parts of ordinary history courses at school, while now I find that they sound to the ears of the students mostly as adventurous and pleasant fairy-tales from the "One Thousand and One Nights".
Anyway, I hope that the director of the museum will be released, the treasure will be sold out in a good price and everybody will return to his daily tasks on a flying carpet.

Impressions

1. The bus stops at some popular istiraha (rest area) one and a half hour from Amman, it is 10:30 a.m. but the temperature makes it feel 3 p.m. Suddenly, while I am drinking my coffee (qahwah turkiyeh, of course, with little of sugar), a small bus of the regular ones that serve the local transportation, to Karak and Taffileh, stops few meters behind ours. The young men jump out and start dancing a dabkeh (traditional dance for much of the arab world, with local variations), the decorations of their bus suit the occasion: the national flag fixed on the window and the portrait of the king. They stop, they start again, giving courage to each other. Probably there is music from the tape recorder of the bus, but from my distance and because of the noise of the Desert Highway, I cannot hear a thing. So the impression of these young slim men that they dance on the tune of the passing cars becomes stronger. It is the national day.
2. At night, after some swimming at the dark beach (the weather suddenly turned windy and grey), me and Ala'a go for a walk around the city. The authorities perform a fireworks show. Most of the fireworks are short-lived and simple, but from time to time they shoot the impressive multi-coloured ones, of the kind they use for extravagant weddings in Amman. The cars at the parking lots and the market give a short complaining alarm every time the explosion gives a deafening noise.
3. The huge flag of Aqabah, which i described several days ago, reveals its secret. I was wondering why it does not have the star, and I was assuming that the reason was that they wanted it to be stronger in dealing with the winds. I discovered that it is not the national flag precisely, but the flag of the Arabic Revolution, and it should not bear the star, therefore.
4. At night again, during a roman dinner session at Moevenpick, surrounded by the balconies of many suites and super-de-lux rooms, the belly dancer tries to impress a basically westrern audience. At the beginning she is dressed in red, then she comes out again in dark orange, making a couple with her silver stick. Later on, the group of the musicians (they look almost Yemenese, thin, dark and small, pretty, nation of the sea) plays the favorite "national" hit, about devotion to the eyes of the king, a nice tune indeed, a good combination of military anthem and enjoyable "tarab" music. Later on, one of them, in his robe, dances gracefully, first close to his peers and later on on the small stage that was set for the belly dancer. I think that the foreigners find this male dance more interesting, because it is not usually included in the orientalist fantasies. (to be demolished soon...)
5. Before leaving our hotel, me and Ala'a turn our faces to see this "Radisson SAS" brand logo, knowing that in one month's time, more or less, everything will start being removed. The hotel with the decent '70s-'80s look, will be removed, to give way to the invasion of the sea. So, during these last few days, there was that feeling of something coming to an end, and people trying to keep the appearances of eternity and normality, while Pompei had had its destiny known and written. A strange feeling: giving one's own best self out of longing, despite all reality.

6. 'Αλλες εντυπώσεις εκτυλίσσονται παράλληλα, σε άλλη γλώσσα, σε άλλο τόπο, δίπλα σε μια άλλη θάλασσα: Κοντα στο Θερμαϊκό, για παράδειγμα αφήνω την εντύπωση από την 3η Διεθνή Έκθεση Βιβλίου Θεσσαλονίκης, που από τον Ιούλιο θα ενταχθεί στο δίκτυο των 25 παγκοσμίως μεγαλύτερων. Σκέφτομαι συναντήσεις που θα συνέβαιναν αυτού. Από απόσταση μεγάλοι γερασμένοι πια λογοτέχνες, ονόματα που τραβούν τον κόσμο με το μαγνητισμό της διασημότητας. Βιβλιοπώλες, βιβλιοθηκονόμοι, βιβλιοπόντικες, ωραία υβρίδια με την αγαπημένη μου λέξη. Ιδέ, ακόμα, με εικόνες: http://www.in.gr/tech/books/thessaloniki-2006.asp Όπου και η απροσδόκητη πληροφορία, ότι αυξήθηκαν οι μεταφρασεις από την ιταλική, σε βάρος των αντίστοιχων από την ισπανική.