Big city life

I had no illusions when I was living in Nashville that I was living in a “big city”. Had I lived smack dab in the middle of downtown, perhaps I might have been used to city life. Sure, the neighborhood I lived in was a far cry from the suburbs, but it had a laid back, bohemian atmosphere, probably due to the proximity of a popular local coffee house and two university campuses. I enjoyed that life – close enough to everything if you need it, far enough to be immune to the hustle and bustle of the nerve center of the city.

When I moved to Greece, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had spent some time in Europe, but most of my time was spent in smaller villages – with brief stints in the cities to visit museums and the various curios of each burg. Greece still being a “siesta” country, I expected a calmer, low key atmosphere, more like Italy.

My first year in Athens was a whirlwind. I barely had time to get used to the city before it was time for us to move, but I knew I wasn’t fond of life in Athens. It was a busy city, so busy, in fact, that people seemed to be more robot-like than human. Everyone had a purpose, as if it was pre-programmed into their brain functions, and it was if the world around them didn’t exist, they had a tunnel-vision leading them to whatever particular goal they were undertaking, and that was that. Looking into people’s eyes it was if all the happiness, the joy of life had been bled out of them, and all that was left was a soulless automaton. I rarely heard laughter in Athens, on the streets or in the cafes, except for the sounds of children playing in the street below our apartment, and even among them, laughter was uncommon. Perhaps if I had lived there longer I might have noted glimpses of humanity, I might have seen the city come to life. But what I witnessed was cold, dead. Life in Athens was stressful, and it showed on the faces of its denizens.

After that I had a year on an island, and a year in a village. Life in those places was more like I expected. There were inconveniences, of course, but the pace of life was more my style. People worked hard, yes, but their lives hadn’t placed a burden on their happiness. Despite my enjoyment of village life, I was ready to move to the city again, with all the city conveniences and family nearby.

I had spent time in Thessaloniki, so I knew a little bit about life here. It is a much smaller city than Athens, and I often compared it more to Nashville, despite the fact that population-wise, Thessaloniki was twice as large. We live in a nice apartment in the city center, close to family, walking distance to just about everything you need downtown. While my husband and I do most things together, including grocery shopping, I have been out on my own on several occasions, usually to go to the store, but still alone, nonetheless. I never had problems being alone in my life, in fact, I quite enjoy it, so imagine my surprise when I went out for an evening stroll the other night, and found myself drowning, inexplicably, in a panic attack. I had taken a well-known route, most of it was on back streets, where there wasn’t a lot of traffic, or people. It wasn’t until I turned onto the sidewalk beside a major thoroughfare that things started to change.

People flooded the sidewalk, walking in both directions. I heard of flurry of conversation on all sides of me, mostly Greek, but a few unknown languages as well. Cars were honking constantly on the road beside me, some vehicles rushing past, others getting caught in a slower moving lane. As I looked around me, everything seemed unfamiliar, the buildings were odd, the talking pedestrians seemed to blend together, their languages entwining into unknown sounds. Everything around me looked grey, dull, and in a flash, it was like I was in some cheesy video, where I was standing still and everything was moving around me at a supersonic speed, in a blur. I felt I was in a quagmire, a rushing swirl of everything moving past me, and that if I wasn’t careful, I’d be caught into the whirlpool, pushed along the sidewalk as if I were in a rushing flood. My breathing became labored as I increased the speed of my steps, I had to get past this. As I turned onto the side street my mind became to calm, although I kept the quickened pace, to further my distance from the busy street. As I regained my senses I felt ashamed, angry, confused. What had caused my panic? Sure, I’ve always been a drama queen, but I’ve never panicked in such a situation.

A couple of days later I still haven’t gained much perspective on what happened, or why it happened. Perhaps it means I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that my move to Greece is permanent, that Nashville is no longer my home. Perhaps it was some sort of early mid-life crisis. Perhaps it was just a fluke. Perhaps it simply means I am not cut out for city life. All I know is I hope it never happens again.