Nai, ginetai!

When coming across an interesting thought or idea, my first instinct is to "try it on", dig out from my memory and experience (I'm a big girl, and have accumulated something so far in my life bag pack, - not much, and only a smallest part of it is worth digging in, truly) examples that could either prove or refute it. 

Seeing this one, the first thing that came to mind was Greece, or, rather, the Greek language, to be more exact. That's a long story, not in that it dates many years back, but in its being an eventful one, generously saturated with emotions and passions of all sorts, primarily the ones of sappy heart nature, grrrrr!)) I don't in the least want to go into detail on all that, oh my, no! – just on the linguistic aspect accompanied it.

Well, let's get it started, endaksi?)

So, Greece. The divine spot unique in its picturesqueness and colorfulness, so characteristic for both people and nature, a place that seems to have forgotten the very notion of time, lazy and somewhat thoughtful, awesome in its careless remoteness. I fell in love with it not even at the first sight, but at the first inhale, having filled my lungs with that inimitable air of freedom, getting instantly dizzy and drunk with happiness, wishing one thing only - to exchange my silly self with all its useless content for an opportunity never to get sober. Running forward - no one expressed any noticeable eagerness to make such a deal, good for them.

I had an unforgettable time there, having got back home, I was crying buckets and buckets, reviving those moments over and over, quite content in my misery and even enjoying it, and constantly pursued by a weird idea that I'd left something there, something my usual self will never be brought back to life without. And I started listening to Greek songs, - probably, in an attempt to find in them that mysterious missing something. Alas, I did not. But I did find things of different nature, things that defined my way of life for several months to come, and are still influencing me, even if at a lesser degree.

In a word, I got tantalized. Mm, three words)) Anyway, tantalized in a most positive sense. Irresistibly attracted by the very sound of them (sound only, yes, for I understood nothing whatsoever what they all were singing about, or, rather moaning - anybody who's had a chance to turn a proper ear to the authentic Greek music will agree) and sucked into its depressingly melodic nucleus. 

Bit by bit curiosity reined over nostalgic shake-break, and my brain cells started asking each other "Hey, neighbor, any idea what that stuff, being poured into us incessantly, is about?" Thus I set off on exploring. Exploring the verbal heritage that once powerful civilization has left its descendants to exploit, - the beautiful Greek language, so full of hidden dignity and pride that came down through centuries. In my case it was abusing rather than using, for the way I chose to get to the root of, well, not things in general, but songs in particular, was a bit non-standard, - through the lyrics of the songs themselves, accompanied by English translations. 

There. That is how it was happening. Initially it was just common sense, some logic (that primitive form of it I have been given), and the similarity of the Greek with both English and Russian (especially Russian, in both vocabulary and, most importantly, grammar, respects) that helped me to break sentences into chunks and get the general idea of the principles defining sentences structures, parts of speech and the relationships between them, as well as some basic linguistic concepts, like conjugation and others, and, of course, some common words.

Then it was like... mmm, like playing with Lego, perhaps. First it's just a huge pile of bricks of all shapes and colors. Then you suddenly notice that two little bricks match each other, you join them and get a bigger brick - a word combination; you continue picking, choosing and trying, and there, some new ones that seem to fit, and there, you already have a short sentence. And so it goes on and on, bit by bit, till the whole pile turns into something having more or less recognizable outlines. After that initial insight, those songs started giving me a sheer enjoyment, - now it was not only indulging the sappy part of me, but mind's work, the curiosity of a scientist, if you wish, which doubled, no, tripled the pleasure.

Those songs, they were always with me, literally, from dawn to dusk, and all night long too, in my headphones, feeding my sub consciousness. Looking back now, I realize it was infatuation, madness, in its supreme form. But that madness was the very essence of my life at the time, it inspired me, making me print out more and more new texts, listen to the most appealing pieces over and over, which eventually led to their getting stuck in my head, together with translations, and they did it themselves, I never forced myself to learn or remember things on purpose, they just rooted in my head and stayed there for good.

I don't mean to say I mastered the Greek language, no, not at all. True learning is a painful and lengthy process, - clever books, routine, drilling, continuous practice, all true alright, I've been going through all that with English and French, but in my Greek case the purpose was different. It was a sort of a game... a thrilling chase for the New, an exciting process of discovery, a sort of tremendously stimulating mind-opening job my heart ordered me to undertake.

Ok, ok, I did get some of those clever books, - just to open them for only once, to learn days of the week, to fling them closed and let gather the dust (there's a lot to gather, so they will never complain on having nothing to do). 

I have a lot of fun, now and then speaking Greek in my head, - I speak about elementary things, say, weather, or chocolate ice-cream, at the level of a two-year-old - mostly a set of incoherent words hardly connected with each other, but can easily construct something like "Ekso apo thalases, tipota se zito, mono na se thimamai" (Beyond the seas I ask nothing, only to remember you). Not that useless a skill, come to think of it - in case destiny throws me into some Greek-speaking Harlem (come on, don't tell me there aren't any, - what with locals' excessive need of the Beauty, all sorts of it), I'll make sure to snatch the privilege of being somewhere in the first dozen of my Master's muses.

Either way, I still remember that mixture of surprise, incredulity and total ecstasy I felt when, having come to Greece for the second time four months after my first visit, I saw that people did understand my funny, weirdly made up something, my amateur set of verbal items, for by no stretch of imagination I can call what I was speaking "language". 

I have always held that nothing happens accidentally, there is always some reason why life makes us bump into people, things, or places. An obscure or seemingly absent at the beginning, that reason might reveal itself when due time comes, and who knows what sharp turn our whole being might take when it does. And who knows, perhaps time comes and I'll feel an urgent need to sweep the dust off my clever books, plunge into them and absorb all they are willing to teach me, - running for a president of out-of-EN Ellada, for instance, or applying for a post of someone to coin drachmas, both of which are perfectly fine by me.

P.S. I still adore Greek songs. 

P.P.S. I worry about you, Greece. Please, hold on, will you? For sure you will!