"yes we can!"

oh my god, on september 11, 2008, i, an american girl, was bitten, on the cheek, by a boy from afghanistan. seriously. how ironic could it get?
i went to kareoke night at that bar, on the rocks, last night, looking quite fabulous if i do say so...my tiger pumps made their debut appearance in greece and my newly-bronzed skin and beach-mane-hair went perfect with my all-black pleated highrise armani shorts and stitched top ensemble, topped off with my mama's pearls. kareoke was bizarre. as i explained before, this bar is totally confusing in its clash of cultures, and last night was even more extreme then the night before. no matter what country the people were from, though, they all sang english songs, and it seemed like not only did most people not know what the words were saying, they didnt even really know how the song went, so it all came out very disorienting and ill-timed and like hearing familiar songs sung to you underwater. i was with those boys again, the greek stavros and the italian tony (i guess they're like my friends now) and also another of their friends whose name i didnt really catch, and i think he was swedish or something but tony, who is not the brightest, insisted that he was from russia. anyway, we were all just sort of dancing and trying to sing along encouragingly, and across the room i noticed this sweet, sweet cute looking boy watching me. he looked so adorable and kind of scared and he was very handsom and he seemed sort of quiet and out of place but like he was trying to figure out how to fit in. i smiled at him and he blushed. one of his friends came up to me later and said, "my friend wants to talk to you", and i was like, ok, thats fine, thinking he was one of the poor albanian boys, and that i could just say hi. so he comes over and he speaks like, no english, but i ask where hes from and he said Afghanistan. i sort of reeled back because, i dont know, i guess i havent ever actually met someone from afghanistan, its just like this scary place america is involved with for dirty reasons, and it was weird to not only meet an afghani in person but to have thought he was cute and sweet. so i told him i was from america and he nodded and smiled and i was like, oh, what fun! we can be friends and bridge the gap and make peace and it will all be very diplomatic and poignant! so i got really excited and said how happy i was to meet him, etc. eventually i started talking to stavros again (who is really very sweet and smart) and the afghani walked away. i went to the bathroom though, a little later, and when i came into the sink room, the afghani was standing there. i thought, you know, its a coincidence, hello, goodbye, but no. the guy like, lunged at my mouth and i squealed and hopped back and turned my cheek. and when he didnt get my lips he bit my cheek! like just...bit it. i screamed and backhanded him on his mouth and ran scampering out of the bathroom. it wasnt scary really, or anything, just kind of wasnt expecting it. i went to tony and the "russian" and was like, "dude, that afghani boy just bit my cheek!". they totally didnt understand, they were like "kissed you? your cheek?" and i was like, "no no, bit, like this" and i grabbed tonys face and chomped down on his cheek. he screamed and his friend started laughing and then got really serious and was like, "wait, he did that, to you?" when i said yes the "russian" went over and started going off on the guy and eventually he left.
i was absolutely flabbergasted and pensive and kind of amused about the whole incident. the reality and depth and poignancy of what had just happened started to sink in, and i got very philosophical about it and was trying to wrap my head around all of the meaning behind it. i tried to explain to stavros how serious and important it could have been for me and the afghani to be friends, and how obvious and foresighted the actual outcome of such an encounter was, how it was totally metaphorical and, as john put it, an "apt microcosm of us-mideast relations". the funniest thing, though, is that, while trying to explain this, i was totally confused and pint-ridden, and i wasnt calling the guy "afghani", i was calling him "afghanistinani", like in The Office:

michael: my charity will be, "Afghanistanis with Aids".
jim: you mean, the 'aids of afghanistan'?
michael: nooo, 'afghanistanis with aids'
phillis: Afghani
michael: what?
phillis: afghani
michael: thats a dog.
pam: that's afghan.
michael: thats a shawl
creed: who has aids?
jim: guys, please. its the afghanistinanis.
michael: oh, shut up.

so anyway, i kept saying afghanistinanis, and when i would catch myself doing this i would start cracking up, and stavros, who probobly has no idea what the difference would be between that and the correct way in english, was totally confounded as to what in the world i was even talking about, going on and on both serious and pounding my fist on the table and then laughing histerically. it was all just rediculous.

anyway

today was one of the best days of my whole life. as i said, i rented a 4wheeler yesterday. its big and bulky but very fast and safe and i look so adorable in a helmet. i rode out to the beach, all along the edge of the ocean, through little towns and resorts trying to find the perfect sunbathing spot. i stopped at this perfect beach and lounged in the sun and watched more windsurfers, took a break to dine on swordfish souvlaki and was given free ouzo and a flower by the restaurant owner. when i felt sufficiently sunned, i decided to take my 4wheeler on an adventure, up in the mountains of naxos. the ride was incredible and exhilerating. once out of the beachy areas it become very sparse and desolate and only every now and then do you see people, but there are lots of cows and stark white churches and other beautiful things, and when you reach a highpoint you can see the ocean. i rode for hours, up mountains, through small settlements, through dense corn fields and tiny pathways. i took loads of pictures and i dont know that ive ever felt more beautiful in my life. i went all the way up to the very tip top of a mountain and stopped at the most beautiful, tiny church i have ever seen. i sat on the wall of the church for a good 2 hours, all the way until the sunset. therer was no one else around, no houses or anything, but down below i could see aman hearding sheep, and the view of the port of naxos was amazing, i was so far away. i just sat and thought and did some yoga stretches, and when the sun had finished setting i walked into the little church and put my hand on the alter and prayed for the first time in a long time. i felt totally clear and at peace and so so thankful and i told god all about it. i rode my
4wheeler home in the dying light, and at every turn you could see the sun setting over the ocean and the town. i am absolutely in love with greece.
tomorrow i catch a ferry back to the mainland, where ill stay in athens. time is short here, so im gonna go eat some olives and see the castle and soak it up.
love to you all!

oh, btw, maybe marion can help with this:
what in the world is so bad about the albanians that everyone is freaking out about them? in rome that crazy french guy, when he heard that the reason i was at the cafe was to see tony the greek, got really weird and i guess jealous and was like, "no, i heard him talk, he's not greek, he's albanian" and i was like, thats weird, why would anyone lie about that (he was definitely greek though). and then the old crazy british guy here was all histerical about them and tried to accuse tony from milan of being albanian (he even tried to ask for his passport! it was insane), so again, accusing someone of lying...anyway, its weird.