Two Grocery Stores Too Many
Trip Start
Sep 07, 2008
1
14
148
Trip End
Dec 09, 2008
Athens,
Greece
Thursday, September 11, 2008
After the trip to grocery store #1, I went to the classroom building. A group of eight students from the program had arrived, and they were on the roof marveling at the view of the Parthenon, trying to figure out how to get to the beach, and planning an evening of tango and techno clubs (amazing how some of them just stepped off the plane and have enough energy to jump into sunning and clubbing).
One of the students, Mary Lou, heard me getting directions for a second grocery store that promised to haves paper plates and cups, and asked to go along. Armed with our trusty maps of the neighborhood, we marched down the street for several blocks. We managed to survive crossing a viciously intimidating intersection, only to discover the map ended and we could not find the supermarket. I said I could to try ask for directions because I know how to say "Excuse me please, where is the..." but I didn't know the word for supermarket. Fortunately, Mary Lou had a Greek phrase book with her. Guess what the Greek word for supermarket is? That's right: supermarket.
A disheveled older man was the only one I could find on the street. "Signome parakalo, pou eine to supermarket?" He pointed back across the angry intersection, and we followed him to the store.
But getting to the right place in one piece was only the first step. I was starting to panic. Could I find the paper plates and cups in time to make it home for Bear's scheduled phone call? (Much cheaper for him to Skype me than for me to use a European calling card.) I ran all over the supermarket. Lots of food, even the Scotch tape I couldn't find this morning. But no disposable tablesettings. Now I'm downright angry. I was sent in the boiling heat to my second grocery store of the day, and they don't seem to have what I need either.
After a few minutes, Mary Lou hollers (in English, I'm sure we looked like boorish tourists, maybe that's why the security guard followed us at every turn), "Hey look, there's an upstairs!" We rush upstairs to the hidden nonfoods section. Again Mary Lou comes to my rescue, locating the goods after a frustrated search of several aisles. I race down to check out, then with my heavy laptop on my back and three bags of purchases in my hands, I huff madly up the hills to my apartment. Would I let Bear down by not being there for his call?
No sir! I made it. Sweat sluicing from every pore in the 97 degree heat radiating off the marble, but I made it. Tragically, I didn't realize until I was halfway home that in my haste, I had put my bags down at the store to sign the debit card slip, and I'd left the paper cups on the supermarket floor!
