Like most bigger cities in Europe the mode of transportation in Athens seems often to be...riding motorbikes...walking...buses...walking....riding motorbikes...walking...
You get the picture.
I would love to say that I have been using motorbikes to get around Athens, but alas, I have been walking around town. It is a rather great way to run into the average person though, and it seems that I can see all kinds of nationalities along the way. Today I ran into a Lebanese gal, a Russian, a Ukranian, an Iraqi, an Afghani, a Greek older man, an American, an Irishman, and several others that I am afraid to say were just labeled 'others' in my mind.
This city has such a different flavor for me than anything in Russia, because within the small confines of Omonia Square it seems as if the world has come together to buy oranges. And I must say that I am loving the sent of cardamon on the air. It reminds me of these wild cookies that my sister gifted me with while in the Middle East.
So today I helped with refugees and am now preparing to head out with the team onto the darkened streets to meet and pray for men in prostitution.