Pittsburgh welcomes the world?

I actually wrote this a couple weeks ago, and then was waiting for Jon to send me photos he took at the G20, which he still hasn’t done.  Oh well!  Here we go:

I’ve been living in Pittsburgh for a few weeks now, and I was just getting used to the slower, more peaceful pace of life here.  That is, until, DUN DUN DUN…the G20.  All of a sudden, I am thrown back into the world I knew in DC: barricades, motorcades, police sirens and huge white tents.  On campus Thursday, there were conversations about Michelle Obama sightings and Russian and Japanese leaders.  That was all pretty familiar to me, until Jon and I decided to follow some of the riot police…

It was convenient to follow them, really.  We heard from friends that the action was going down not downtown, not near campus, but in our neighborhood, Bloomfield.  So following riot police was just part of walking back to our apartment.  The first sign of damage we saw was a broken window at a bank.  Then we came upon the Boston Market restaurant, where I walk by every day.  Every window in the place had been smashed with bricks and rocks.  Farther down the street, another bank, a McDonald’s and a BMW dealer had windows broken, too.

The people who did this belong to the anarchist group that seem to show up at every protest, everywhere, no matter the issue.  Their posters showed that they don’t believe in government or banks.  Ok, so that explains why they smashed bank windows.  But fast food joints?  In a working-class, residential neighborhood?  No one involved in the G20 goes to Bloomfield.  So how does breaking windows of restaurants in Bloomfield send a message to members of the G20?  That destruction happened on Thursday; on Friday, they broke windows of local businesses, including the breakfast joint where Obama ate during his campaign.  So this was not a protest against the corporate world; it was just an excuse to go break stuff.

There are two sides to this dance; there are the violent protesters, and then there are the violent police.  The problem is when non-violent protesters get punished by the violent police.  The police take any threat as serious.  And that’s what I witnessed on Thursday in Bloomfield.  The people who threw the rocks had been arrested and hauled away.  But people were still gathered around, because, like I said, this is a quiet residential area.  And if weird stuff is goin’ down, people want to see it.  But any gathering of people is threatening to a bunch of police in riot gear who just fought brick-wielding anarchists.

The first disturbing thing we saw was a cyclist get shoved against a car by police.  The biker was just riding through the street, just like the cars.  But s/he must have said something to the police, because all of a sudden s/he was pushed hard against a car and handcuffed.  A friend of the cyclist was there and able to take the bike as the police hauled away her friend.  Then the police started marching toward the crowd (Jon and I stayed as close as we could to the TV news truck; I feel comfortable near media) and telling us to disperse.  The crowd was on the sidewalks of both sides of the street, and a guy ran from one side of the street to the other.  The police must have taken that as a threat, because before he got to the other side, he was tackled to the ground and handcuffed.  Another man, a few minutes later, was handcuffed for yelling at the police to let the guy go.

Looking at everything I witnessed, I just find it so unnecessary.  There was no need for anarchist groups to destroy local businesses, just like there was no need for police to get violent with non-violent hecklers.  At least today there was an example of real protest; thousands of people marched peacefully from the university to downtown, carrying real messages about war and the economy.  One of the speakers at the march smartly said, “We’re confronting G-20 policies, not police.”

Fireworks, candles and red eggs in Athena

I’m in Europe, and it’s weird.  I know I only spent 10 weeks in Asia, and in the grand scheme of things that isn’t very much.  But something about being here is strange to me now.  I’m in Greece, where I have never been before, but it’s somehow still familiar.  Things are easy now, like walking into a cafe and ordering a sandwich, or brushing my teeth with tap water, or finding places by using addresses.  And as much as I love being in Europe, it’s showing me that I really didn’t have enough time in the East.

Temple of Zeus, the most photogenic and my favorite of the sites in Athens

But Greece was the perfect place to start our European leg.  It’s close to the Middle East and shares a lot of culture with Turkey (though I cannot say that to a Greek) so the food and music here is similar to what we had in the UAE.  There are cats and dogs lounging in the sun and begging for our food at outdoor restaurants.  But it’s still very European, with tiny winding streets with cafes running into each other and churches filled with candlelight and little old ladies.  We arrived in Athens after a strange stop in Cyprus, where our plane had to refuel.  So if you look at the “where are we” map that Jon created, you will see a stop in Cyprus, but we didn’t actually get off the plane; we just sat there wanting to get off!

Hadrians Arch at the end of a street in Plaka, the hood near the Acropolis

I was struck immediately by the beauty of Athens (in Greek they call it Athena, which I think it much prettier!)  Every picture you take looks like a postcard.  How could it not?  You are surrounded by hills, palm trees, orange blossoms, churches, and ancient ruins.  From all I had read about Athens, I expected it to be a dirty, cramped city with little charm — but it’s the exact opposite.  Why don’t more people talk about the beauty of Athens???  Anyway, we saw all the major sites and ate at many picturesque cafes, stuffing our faces with feta and tomatoes.  (Jon ate the olives; I still think they taste like cough medicine.)  But by far the coolest part of our time in Athens was Greek Orthodox Easter.

The Roman Agora (like a market) as seen from some of the little cafes on the street above

Now, in my Catholic-centered Christian mind, I never considered that other forms of Christianity would celebrate holidays on different days.  So I thought Easter was on April 12, and that was that.  Nope!  Turns out we decided to go to Greece during the most important weekend of the year.  That gave us some challenges, like many things were closed on Sunday and Monday.  Plus the transportation was all booked up with all the Greeks traveling, so we weren’t able to spend the weekend on an island as we had originally hoped.  But the benefits outweighed that: Most sites were free that weekend in honor of the holiday, and we got to witness the beautiful celebrations of Greek Easter.

The Good Friday procession to church; a bit blurry, but you can see the flowered throne near the door of the church

It all starts on Friday night with a candlelit procession marking Jesus’s death.  Every church has its own procession, but the one by us went like this: In the front was a marching band playing very somber tunes; behind them were a bunch of men carrying a throne covered in flowers; behind them was a priest with a huge beard (think Dumbledore) blessing the crowds with a large cross.  And behind all that was the crowd of churchgoers, candles in hand.  The streets are blocked off and they march toward the church where they have a service.

inside of our Easter Sunday church; the murals covered the entire thing, in much brighter colors than my camera could capture

But Saturday night is where the real fun comes in.  Everyone goes to church around 11pm, and when that’s over, people set off fireworks and hang out in the streets.  At this point we were staying in a different neighborhood in Athens, a purely residential and awesomely grungy one, so we went the opposite way of the crowds to find the church they had come from.  In doing that, we found the biggest and most beautiful church that I have seen, maybe ever.  It was surrounded by hundreds of people outside, and inside it was filled with smoke from all the candles.  We went inside to see hundreds more people lining up to kiss the Bible that the priest was holding.  The church had an enormous dome and was completely covered in paintings of saints and the Holy Family.  The priests were chanting and the crowd was whispering, and it was amazing to witness it all.

Jon with our red Easter eggs in front of our church

The next morning, Easter Sunday, we went outside for a walk.  An old lady ran out of her house and handed us two red eggs.  She didn’t speak any English, but showed us that we were supposed to bang them together and then eat them.  Easy enough.  But later on we read that whoever’s egg doesn’t crack will have good luck for the year.  That was me!  Our Easter Sunday was spent on a train from Athens to Thessaloniki, but on our ride we could see families across Greece having picnics in the street and in their yards. We met a really nice Greek guy our age who told us a lot more about Greek Easter and what an important family holiday it is.  And a note to all who want to come to Greece but don’t want to fight crowds and sweat your brains out: Come in April!  It’s so lovely and most of the tourists are Greek.

Jon and I with the Acropolis in the background