Arriving in Athens after the grueling connecting flight from New York, Nicasio and Daniela met a contact person arranged by Professor Simons at the luggage gate of VenizelosInternationalAirport. Geoffrey Sykes was a gray-bearded and wiry man of indiscernible age, though he gave the impression through his American English and cultural adaptability that he might be even more seasoned than he looked. This was confirmed as he helped them with their luggage into a minivan in front of the airport terminal and then mentioned briefly that he had lived for a while in California during the turbulent 1970's.

Strolling out into the warm air and placing their carryon bags into the back of Sykes' vehicle, the couple was introduced to a blast of dry wind as they confronted the midnight air of the AtticPeninsula. Though it was only late May, the weather was different than the climate they had left on the CentralCoast in California. It no longer had the cool, moist smell of the Pacific Ocean. This was their first impression of another world, entirely, with a much more ancient human history.

Leaving the surprisingly modern airport facilities and ramping onto a freeway towards the center of Athens, Nicasio and Daniela sat in the back of the van feeling both excitement and uneasiness at being on this other side of the world. The realities of it were dawning on Daniela as she noticed all the signs along the freeway were in two separate alphabets. The forty-minute drive into the heart of the Athens became a wake-up call to a different population as well. The van soon left the low-stress, somewhat isolated freeway and entered a metropolitan gridlock at 12:45 AM. Aside from the density of traffic which seemed to be incongruous with the late hour, the streets were alive with people. Crowds were seated in the outdoor tavernas conversing, drinking and fully engaged in lively activity—all as if it were early evening in any city of the United States. Nicasio asked Geoffrey why so many people were out at that hour and not home asleep.

"Greeks!" He said rather conclusively. "They're lovely people but a little over the top about staying out all night.

Nicasio turned and smiled at Daniela.

"Talking, smoking and eating mostly," their driver added. "You'll see." Geoffrey pointed to a large square they were passing slowly in traffic.

"Even in this long economic crises they'll be gathered out here on the streets. Socializing. All hours . . . arguing about politics . . . and the uncertain economy mostly. Either that or it's football. The young kids just sit and try to talk while all their friends are on cell phones. It's a hoot really."

The two looked out the window eagerly to confirm his analysis.

"These days if their not berating their useless government leaders or do-nothing parliamentarians, they're cursing the Germans and multinational banks for what they see as getting their country into this mess. Unfortunately, the people here see paying taxes as an optional proposition at best. They avoid the practice like the rest of the world avoids diseases. Can't really blame them though. How much of the money ever makes it into the state budget is another story. It's a full-blown depression in this little country right now. Mostly as a result of internal corruption."

Geoffrey seemed to be driving erratically. And a little too quickly to be in such heavy traffic, though every other car seemed to be in competition with his road space. To both Nicasio and Daniela the tempo on the streets was akin to a low grade panic, and seemingly for no apparent reason.

"How long will the two of you be here?" Geoffrey asked, lighting a cigarette and engulfing the car with toxicity they did not have to endure on the plane or in both airports. For a brief moment during the activity he seemed to be commandeering the car with no hands.

"Probably about a week," Nicasio responded, looking at Daniela for her reaction.

"Well . . . that's about how long it takes."

"What takes?" Daniela asked, a little nervously.

"To get acclimated here. Believe me . . . you'll both be eating your dinner after eleven o'clock at night in no time."

Geoffrey offered this prediction obviously from past experience but with playfulness to his voice that was typical of someone who had earned his knowledge the hard way.

Suddenly, the car in front of them came to an abrupt stop, causing Geoffrey to throw on the breaks, toppling the baggage behind them and transforming their fellow countryman into and angry participant of the gentry outside the car.

"Ti malakas!" Geoffrey shouted out the window, obviously referring to the driver in front of them who was now allowing a passenger to exit in the middle of the street. The man looked indignantly into his rearview mirror, and Geoffrey this time gestured with both out-stretched open palms at the culprit.

"Ella Malakas! He shouted again, this time addressing the driver of the stopped car personally, which had now also caused a congress of horns behind Geoffrey's van to fill the air with over-blown angst. The driver of the obstructing car then reached out the window, extending backwards an open hand, similar to Geoffrey's signal, offered as some retaliatory gesture of malediction. This presented an equally weighted and challenging insult to their driver who waited for more saber-rattling. After a moment of stalemate, both drivers shook their heads mumbling to themselves and progressed onward quickly, amid the nightmarish din of horns which had grown to a roar then dissipated into the distance.

"Professor Simons tells us you're working with the AmericanSchool of Classical Studies," Nicasio commented nervously to Geoffrey, attempting to diffuse the awkward moment. Their driver responded in a surprisingly calm voice, as if the previous incident had never occurred.

"Yes, one of my jobs is that. Though, most people here in Greece work two jobs now days."

"Really? It's so bad?" Daniela chimed in. "So what's your second job?"

"I teach English in the evenings. To private students."

"Is there a market for that here?"

"Yeah. A pretty good one. Always has been. I can make double the money I get as an archaeologist. Just doing hourly lessons in the evenings. To the rich kids here."

"Wow. So I guess you're not really hurting that badly then?"

"Everyone's hurting these past years. And I don't even pay taxes on that lesson income. Just like everyone else in this crazy place. It's a gray-market economy mostly. Always had been. Always will be."

"I see." Nicasio looked at Daniela and smiled again.

"That's part of why the country is collapsing. We're sort of all to blame really."

Geoffrey laughed to himself. The humorous tone of an outsider was back. "But strangely it's what keeps this country moving in some . . . you might say . . . surreal way."

"Sounds like you've adapted pretty well, though." Nicasio offered.

"Something like that. Don't get me wrong . . . for the past twenty years I've tolerated living here, though you really have to ask yourself these days why I still do it."

He blew another double lungful of smoke into the car.

"OK, Greece is stunningly beautiful once outside of Athens. I'll admit that. And it does have some astounding treasures. Trust me, if you're into antiquities. It's what brought me here years ago. It's just gotten to be a real drag slogging through this financial meltdown. Nobody's certain if a total collapse will really happen."

"So bad?"

"Oh yeah. Suicide is up. Crime has spiked, and now we have a full-blown Neo-Nazi group pushing around the immigrants and getting votes in Parliament. Add to that all the refugees coming to these shores from war-torn places and you have a real nightmare of a country. Welcome, my friends."

Geoffery pointed out the window to some stately homes along the roadway, turned and smiled ironically.

"They've always said 'Greece is a poor little country with some very rich people.' And that's a pretty true assessment of the place."

"So it has a wealthy class, as well?" Daniela asked.

"Look. Some of the wealthiest people in the world live only a few miles from here in the northern suburbs. And, of course . . . out on the islands. But a lot of it? Just dirty money. Check out the lifestyle of some of these families from the sky on Google Earth."

Nicasio and Daniela looked at each other silently.

"Just fly over those estates and zoom on down. You see the marble palaces. Houses like hotels. Swimming pools . . . acres of gardens? Man . . . BeverleyHills never had it so good."

"Wow."

"But the middle class and poor here? Jesus! They're being bled by the damn austerity measures. Years of them now! Pay cuts . . . tax hikes, price gouging. The whole lot . . ."

Geoffrey ended his diatribe speaking under his breath, obviously to himself. Something about a 'land of paradoxes.'

The mini-van skirted out of a gridlocked section of narrow streets onto an equally congested boulevard, now wide and well-lit, with surprisingly elegant neoclassical buildings lining the sidewalks. Suddenly and dramatically in the background a magnificent view of the Acropolis appeared. It was lit up dramatically.

Both Nicasio and Daniela were speechless for that brief moment it dominated the horizon. It was a majestic image of an unimaginable antiquity. The couple took in a breath and froze. Seeing the amber Parthenon as it loomed up on its impenetrable precipice was a stunning wake-up call as to where they truly were. Then, just as soon as it appeared, the entire Acropolis mountain vanished again behind a series of depressing apartment complexes.

"So what brings the two of you here, for the first time? You're bnoth researchers from the UC system. Right?"

Daniela looked quickly at Nicasio. She understood the true nature of their visit was not to be revealed. She held his hand tightly, hoping this first test of their interests and agenda would pass the bar by simply being 'graduate students on a study-abroad assignment.'

Nicasio quickly spoke up. "Well, Daniela is here to see first hand some of the artistic elements of the classical period. She's an art student, actually. And I'm interested in . . . Mycenaean tombs. Specifically. . . their architecture."

He did not know why he answered so truthfully, as the plan for his study was to be 'Mediterranean navigation.'

"OK. So you'll be heading out at some point to Mycenae? And the Nemea CenterFieldSchool I suppose?

"Well they're definitely on my list. We'll also check out the new AcropolisMuseum and spend lots of time in the Blegan Library while we're here."

In anxiety Daniela squeezed his hand even tighter now, causing Nicasio to wince. Fortunately this was out of Geoffrey's sight.

"Yeah great. Well you'll both be in good hands with Theophilos at the AmericanSchool. The guy's Greek-Greek but a Berkeley alum. Classical Studies. I guess you could almost call him one of your . . . boys from the hood."

Geoffrey chuckled and the couple laughed nervously.

"You Californians will speak the same language."

"Perfect!" Daniela added disjointedly.

Nicasio interjected to prevent her from saying more.

"Yeah! . . . And I understand he was briefed a bit by Professor Simons . . . my supervisor?"

"That's usually the case. You'll be meeting with him tomorrow around eleven AM at the Blagen. It's just outside your dorm, and inside the campus compound."

"Looking forward to that," Nicasio added.

"Yeah. That's purposely late in the day to give you 'Statesiders' a bit more time to sleep. Customary for researchers when dealing with those distances. They sort of feel your pain when it comes to jet lag."

The two smiled at each other feeling more comfortable about their accomodations.

"Excellent," Nicasio replied. "We're looking forward to meeting with Theophilos in the midmorning then."

"But right now . . . that extra sleep does sound better," Daniela added boldly, causing Nicasio to grip her hand again. She realized, with great relief, that they had just passed their first checkpoint with poise and ease.

* * *