The Hiss

There are many aspects of cultural habits that can lead to "culture shock." Today may have been my first real "culture shock" moment.

As Katie describes it:
So today, a very funny thing happened. There we were, trekking to school in the heart of a foreign land where we don't know ANYBODY . . . Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a single sound jolted us to our very cores. Noelle and I were hissed at by a member of the honor guard. I was so freaked out that I nearly hit the ground. "HOW," I thought to myself, nearly out loud, "HOW IN THE WORLD HAS COLLIER FOUND US?!?" But it wasn't Collier after all.

Actually, we're still not really sure what it was all about. See, as far as we can tell, the members of the honor guard are mostly new members of the Greek military . . . the new kids, the pee-ons, if you will. Their posts, which they occupy for about two hours at a time, require them to stand dead still, except for the predetermined times at which they have to do a special kind of step/march that doesn't actually involve much walking at all. It's mostly a fancy kick, but every once in a while, certain guards switch places with one another. It might sound silly, but it's all very regimented and impressive to watch, even with those poufy shoes the guards have to wear. The reality of this job, however, is *&^% for those who actually have to do it. For one thing, similar to any finely established military unit in the US, newbies on the job always have a babysitter, whose job is actually more like that of an obnoxious sibling. For reasons that do not make sense to anyone other than the powers that be, this obnoxious sibling "babysitter" is given the job of watching over his less experienced buddies and showing them the ropes. Translation to reality: this babysitter goes around and obnoxiously points out anything that might be out of line. When he's not busy fixing everything that could possibly be wrong while loudly lecturing the newby over the wrongness of everything, he spends his time pointing out all of the things that the newby should not ever think of doing: you know, things like blinking, breathing or looking at women. Well, so there were Noelle and I, two foreign women who couldn't understand a word of Greek unless it was spoken very slowly and it related to food items, place settings or geographical locations. We were minding our own business (and by this I mean NOELLE was minding her own business. Katie, whose mind is too simple to have any business of its own, was thinking about what she's always thinking about: boys, and how to trap them). We were actually on the opposite side of the street from the Honor Guard members who were currently under scrutiny of the babysitter. Unfotunately, however, the babysitter was on our side of the street, facing our direction. As we were the only moving objects on the street, the babysitter naturally turned his attention toward us while continuing to holler at the honour guards. We know that SOMETHING was said about us, but we really have no idea what. It could have been, "Ohoho, look! That girl on the right looks just like the girl in Willie Wonka who turns into a blueberry and explodes! No wait, you can't look!" (Which would have been a reference to Katie, of course, although I looked more like a cranberry this morning because I was wearing red). Or he might have said, "Ay, ay, ay! Look at the foxy lady on the left! Oh wait, you can't!" (Which would have been a reference to Noelle, whose response would have most likely involved an icepick.) More than likely, it was a Teen Girl Squad-esque comment, such as, "Heh, heh. You must be girls." Regardless, the end result was that a member of the honor guard most definitely hissed at us. Once again, we don't know what this means. We know it's some sort of sex-based response, but we don't know if it's more of a cat-call or just a general heckle. Regardless, once I got over the initial shock at the potential presence of a Collier in Greece, I laughed out loud. Noelle didn't. Surprise, surprise, eh?