Thanksgiving. A holiday where American families gather together, eat a lot of great food, and talk about how thankful they are for each other. This year, I flew to Athens to meet my family for Thanksgiving. We got an apartment, because my family doesn’t do well in hotels. We’re too crazy to be contained like that. I’m the oldest of four, and if we are cramped up in a small hotel room for five days, we would kill each other. Literally.
My family
Top picture: (from left) Alleyah 17, Alaza 15, and my mom
Left picture: my dad Dan and my mom Frances (yes, she is trying to escape)
Right picture: Clare 19 and I in front of the Parthenon
My flight was at 9:50am on Wednesday morning, so I had to catch the train from Leuven to Brussel at 7. So it only made sense that I went out Tuesday night, ran home, grabbed my stuff, threw on a sweater, and headed out to the train station. Hear me out. On an average night, I go to bed about 12:30, 1ish. Then I would be tossing and turning all night, worried that I forgot something, panicking, not being able to sleep. And if I could eventually fall asleep, it wouldn’t be a deep sleep. And I’d have to wake up by 5 anyway, so I could double check my belongings and walk over to the train station. So I would only be getting 4 hours of sleep, at the most. Not even worth it right? Plus my friends are the worst peer pressure-ers in the world, always convincing me to go out when I know I really shouldn’t. But I always do, and I always have a fantastic time. So Tuesday night, I stayed out until 5am, then went home, made three Speculoos sandwiches, and left for the airport. I didn’t really get tired until I was sitting on the train on the way to Brussels. I awkwardly half-slept for the 20 minute ride, then followed the crowd of people up to the airport. Once I got there, I was directed to the counter, then my gate. The airport was surprisingly crowded for 8am, but I had no problems getting through security or finding my gate. There was a heart-stopping moment when I arrived at my gate and it was closed, but I stuck it out until I saw the electronic sign for Athens pop up. I snoozed on and off for the hour before boarding, waking up when I felt like the entire airport was staring at me. Of course no one was.
When our flight was called, I showed the woman my boarding pass, and saw the sign that said you could only take one bag. I tried to hide my second bag behind my back, but the woman didn’t even say a word. We got on a bus that drove us to our plane, and I stood next to an assassin. There is no way that that man was anything other than a hired hit man. I was slightly terrified yet fascinated at the same time. I figured that of all things, I was pretty safe next to him. I lost him once we got on board, and I passed out the second my seatbelt clicked. I didn’t even stay awake to hear the safety instructions. I woke up an hour later, teeth chattering, and very disoriented. The flight attendant was walking by with drinks, and, noticing that I was finally awake, asked if I had eaten yet. When I said I hadn’t, he went to the back and got me a little breakfast burrito and waffle, along with a coke. What a wonderful thing to wake up to! He also saw that I was shivering, and got me a blanket. Which I may or may not have shoved into my bag . . .
The rest of the flight was uneventful, and I arrived in Athens at 2pm. My mom had told me that she wouldn’t be able to pick me up from the airport, so I was supposed to look for a Greek man named Nikolas who had a sign with my name on it. I found him easily enough, and he threw my stuff into his cab, and we were off. About five minutes into the car ride he called my parents to tell them that he had picked me up, and that’s when things got really sketchy. This is how the phone call went:
Nikolas: “Ahh, hello, this is Nikolas. You don’t know me, but I have your daughter.”
Who had my parents sent to get me?!?! Luckily, I was completely exhausted and not thinking straight, because I saw nothing wrong with the situation. Nikolas also brought me back to my Loyola days, driving with the crazy cabbies. He got at least nine thousand phone calls during the 20 minute drive to our apartment, was swerving in and out of traffic, and attempted to make awkward small talk with me. I played along until he agreed that my name was “weird”, and then I got quiet. Luckily, we were at our apartment, where my dad and youngest sister were waiting. It was so good to see them! I didn’t realize how much I missed my family until this trip. Sure, they drive me crazy, but I really do love them.
My first day was spent unpacking and resting before we went out for dinner. I have three sisters, all younger, and the youngest two (15 and 17) are at the age where they refuse to eat anything but hamburgers and chicken fingers. My youngest sister Alaza was ignoring all of us until she saw a couple making out in the booth next to us. That freaked her out so much that it was all she could talk about for the rest of the meal. "They're making a porno!" "Why don't they just expose themselves already??" "Eww is that tongue?" She moved seats to come sit by me, so it helped to break her shell. My second youngest sister is Alleyah, and she's 17. She got a hamburger. That's pretty much all she eats. I feel like sometimes she gets pushed to the side, because Alaza demands so much attention. I made it a point during the trip to try and spend more time with her. It was a little difficult when she was glued to the computer the entire time, but I tried my best. My third sister is Clare, and she will be 19 on December 3rd. My dad was honestly so surprised to find out that she was only 18. Love him, slightly clueless. So that's my family. Four girls, from 21 down to 15. We're a mess, loud and obnoxious, we fight constantly, and I know we're an extreme embarrassment. My first meal in Greece was spent at the TGI Fridays in the mall across the street from our apartment. Not even an attempt at Greek food. Such is a day in the life of my family.
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