Litter is now a Greek myth
I found this in my inbox this morning. It is from a reporter for the Observer, I don't know which one so I can't link to it, sorry. Anyway, after reading this you will get a small glimpse into the culture shock that most foreigners get when moving to Greece (and this is from a guy who spent half his life in Swaziland!)
The Greeks have a word for it - philotimo. It means a feeling of self-esteem and honour and makes Greeks the least violent, least drunken and least petty-thieving people in Europe. Now philotimo might make Athens the Continent's tidiest city.
Visitors to the Athens' Olympics told me how astonished they were at the cleanliness - even spotlessness - of the city's new metro system and trams; how the formerly decrepit taxis were now almost all spanking new and kept clean and tidy inside; how the streets were free of litter, discarded plastic bottles and half-eaten hamburgers.
Athenians' sense of philotimo about the facelift for the Games has wrought a fundamental change in their attitude to litter. On my visit, taking one metro journey, several tram rides and two train trips into the countryside, all were free from litter, except a trip on the Glyfada tram, which let me witness a scene that might have been out of a play by Aristophanes.
The seats in the almost full carriage were arranged facing each other, as in a London Tube. My wife, an Athenian, went to sit next to a well-dressed woman of about 70. There was a newspaper on the empty seat my wife approached, which the woman picked up and handed across the tram to a young man with a ponytail and an earring sitting opposite. He threw it on the floor. She picked it up and, as deliberately as before, passed it back to him. He threw it down again.
Woman: 'You can't throw rubbish on the floor like that!'
Litter lout: 'I didn't. I put it on that seat next to you.'
Woman: 'Yes, but that too was wrong. I gave it back to you so the lady could sit down. Now you throw it on the floor. What if everyone did that? Our new trams would be disgraceful.'
Litter lout: 'What right have you to boss me around?'
Chorus (other passengers): 'She's not bossing you. She's saying you were wrong. You should be ashamed of yourself. You shouldn't throw litter on the floor, then try to excuse yourself. You are making the place like a pig sty.'
At this point the argument subsides and the woman gets off. The man stands opposite the chorus leader, a woman in her forties with a thick mane of jet-black hair.
Litter lout: 'You are such a big mouth. I pity your husband.'
She springs like a tigress and pushes him in the chest, making him stagger backwards.
Chorus leader (shouting): 'How dare you insult me! My husband is a gentleman and a proper Greek. Not a dirty pig like you.'
Litter lout: 'Leave me alone, big mouth.'
A member of the chorus gets up and separates the two.
Chorus: 'You leave her alone. You insulted her. Now let's have some peace and quiet. This fight has gone on long enough.'
At the next stop the chorus leader gets off, head high. To my alarm, the lout gets off too and I fear he might follow her. No, says my wife, his philotimo won't allow that.
On a London Tube, if such an argument about litter had begun, everyone would have buried their heads in their books, examined the rubbish swilling around their feet, or read one of the newspapers littering the carriage (kai na pros8esw: and the old lady would have been attacked on her way home....or at the scene!!). In Athens, where democracy was born, the urge to get involved in a matter of civic concern is in the genes.
We get off at our stop, walk into a pedestrianised street and narrowly avoid being knocked down by a motor scooter swerving to avoid a waiter emerging from a taverna. The waiter makes no protest.
'It's shocking,' my wife says to him, 'you were almost knocked down by that scooter, breaking the law like that.' He shrugs ruefully: 'Ah well, you know, we Greeks think we can do anything we like.'
Anything, it seems, except drop litter.
The Greeks have a word for it - philotimo. It means a feeling of self-esteem and honour and makes Greeks the least violent, least drunken and least petty-thieving people in Europe. Now philotimo might make Athens the Continent's tidiest city.
Visitors to the Athens' Olympics told me how astonished they were at the cleanliness - even spotlessness - of the city's new metro system and trams; how the formerly decrepit taxis were now almost all spanking new and kept clean and tidy inside; how the streets were free of litter, discarded plastic bottles and half-eaten hamburgers.
Athenians' sense of philotimo about the facelift for the Games has wrought a fundamental change in their attitude to litter. On my visit, taking one metro journey, several tram rides and two train trips into the countryside, all were free from litter, except a trip on the Glyfada tram, which let me witness a scene that might have been out of a play by Aristophanes.
The seats in the almost full carriage were arranged facing each other, as in a London Tube. My wife, an Athenian, went to sit next to a well-dressed woman of about 70. There was a newspaper on the empty seat my wife approached, which the woman picked up and handed across the tram to a young man with a ponytail and an earring sitting opposite. He threw it on the floor. She picked it up and, as deliberately as before, passed it back to him. He threw it down again.
Woman: 'You can't throw rubbish on the floor like that!'
Litter lout: 'I didn't. I put it on that seat next to you.'
Woman: 'Yes, but that too was wrong. I gave it back to you so the lady could sit down. Now you throw it on the floor. What if everyone did that? Our new trams would be disgraceful.'
Litter lout: 'What right have you to boss me around?'
Chorus (other passengers): 'She's not bossing you. She's saying you were wrong. You should be ashamed of yourself. You shouldn't throw litter on the floor, then try to excuse yourself. You are making the place like a pig sty.'
At this point the argument subsides and the woman gets off. The man stands opposite the chorus leader, a woman in her forties with a thick mane of jet-black hair.
Litter lout: 'You are such a big mouth. I pity your husband.'
She springs like a tigress and pushes him in the chest, making him stagger backwards.
Chorus leader (shouting): 'How dare you insult me! My husband is a gentleman and a proper Greek. Not a dirty pig like you.'
Litter lout: 'Leave me alone, big mouth.'
A member of the chorus gets up and separates the two.
Chorus: 'You leave her alone. You insulted her. Now let's have some peace and quiet. This fight has gone on long enough.'
At the next stop the chorus leader gets off, head high. To my alarm, the lout gets off too and I fear he might follow her. No, says my wife, his philotimo won't allow that.
On a London Tube, if such an argument about litter had begun, everyone would have buried their heads in their books, examined the rubbish swilling around their feet, or read one of the newspapers littering the carriage (kai na pros8esw: and the old lady would have been attacked on her way home....or at the scene!!). In Athens, where democracy was born, the urge to get involved in a matter of civic concern is in the genes.
We get off at our stop, walk into a pedestrianised street and narrowly avoid being knocked down by a motor scooter swerving to avoid a waiter emerging from a taverna. The waiter makes no protest.
'It's shocking,' my wife says to him, 'you were almost knocked down by that scooter, breaking the law like that.' He shrugs ruefully: 'Ah well, you know, we Greeks think we can do anything we like.'
Anything, it seems, except drop litter.
posted by Nathan at 11:25 AM
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