Not in Kansas Anymore

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an American in a foreign country, must be in want of some culture shock (my apologies to Jane Austen for that. However, she’s dead. Really dead. So I don’t think she cares). Upon arriving in the country, it is obvious that there are differences between the U.S. and Greece.

It’s dryer. Apartment buildings, not houses, are the norm. Streets can be very narrow. Sidewalks are not to be relied upon. Pedestrians do not have the right of way: they have the right to try to get out the way before being killed. While there’s very little in terms of grass, there is a great quantity of trees and potted plants (one of which is on my balcony and is already dead from my neglect. Oops).

However, on a deeper level, the U.S. and Greece also differ vastly in terms of work culture. For one thing, Greek culture appreciates the term “rest” far more than American culture. The typical American adopts something of a work-crash-work-intense vacation-work-crash-work model. Not so in Greece. Stores here close around two and don’t open up again until the evening. Why? It’s hot, and that’s the best time to go take a nap (no one is very productive in the heat anyways). Hence, there’s a general air of busyness around eight in the evening (when it’s cool) and a general air of stillness in the afternoon. The notion of offering twenty-four hour service is nowhere to be found. Stores may not be open on Sundays. In fact, when going away for vacations, shop owners will typically completely close their shops up, rather than find someone to run it in the interim. (Side note: yes, Greece is in an economic crisis, but I’m fairly sure that this cultural difference existed long before that, so there’s little evidence for making a causation argument). 

  

The profit-driven nature of American society as opposed to Greek society reminds me a bit of one of my favorite poems, “God’s Grandeur,” by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

I must confess that after leaving the American public school system, which is so intently testing driven, the Greek model appeals to me. In simplistic terms, due to No Child Left Behind and Race to the Top, the American public school system is organized to operate something like the capitalist system before Child Labor laws. There’s an emphasis on profit (test scores) rather than giving children the space and time to grow as unique human beings.

Perhaps it is better to stop for a little. Take a nap. Close the shop. Avoid living a life that is too much “seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil.”

Not all things Greek are better than American, nor are all things American better than Greek. But maybe we have something to learn here. It’s not a bad idea to rest. Other things are more important than making a tremendous profit. Life isn’t all money or test scores or big houses or fancy cars. Sometimes, it’s sitting on the balcony, listening to the chatter of the neighborhood, remembering “the dearest freshness deep down things” and the Holy Ghost who broods over the world with bright wings.