Feb 22, 20232 min read

The Middle Finger of Greece

You want your Mamma Mia summer. It’s more convenient to stay on the mainland, so you take a commercial cruise along the southern coast. It is just as beautiful as the islands, but less expensive and less popular. As you go past the fingers one by one, you reach the Mani Peninsula: the middle finger. You arrive at a port in Gytheio to stay for a couple of days. Some may debate whether or not it is considered a city, but it is the largest settlement in Mani. As the largest port, every surrounding village relies on the economic prosperity of Gytheio.

You are mesmerized by the glistening turquoise water with the complimentary muted orange, yet colorful, buildings. You see octopus hanging from clotheslines, kittens begging for scraps of food, tchotchke turntables on the sidewalks, and you realize that you are in a tourist's heaven. Gytheio looks like a default windows background: so pleasing to the eye, yet so natural. This whole place was catered for you– for your Mamma Mia summer.

You are so enamored by the Grecian beauty that you are blinded to its true personality. You don’t hear the scattered gunshots beyond the waterfront. You don’t understand the Greek insults shot by passerbyers. You can’t read the white, gold, and blue flag of Mani that modified Greece’s national slogan from “Freedom or Die” to “Win or Die.” You inhale the oceanic clean air, selectively neglecting the smell of diesel and cigarettes. You don’t even notice the dirty looks directed towards you beyond your fedora’s rim.

The people charging you five euros for a stone magnet are direct descendants of the ancient Spartans, with the same fire in their blood. History portrays Spartans as brave soldiers fighting for purpose, but the truth is, when they had nothing to fight for, they turned towards each other. The cute cobblestone pathways you walk on were once scattered with blood from neighbors killing neighbors. But now, they plead with tourists to pick their seafood restaurant rather than the other fourteen identical seafood restaurants along the water. We need you, and we hate you for it.

Every summer since I was conscious, my parents have sent me and my two sisters to Gytheio to spend the entirety of July and August with our grandparents. I have spent 1/6th of my life in this city. I have basked in its beauty, but been aware of its volatile character. Old ladies look you up and down so often that we have a word for it. The gunshots during siesta is just part of the natural ambiance. Fights break out so often in restaurants that the waiters just laugh and place down the entrees. We learn to read around the scattered bullet holes on street signs. The crispy, ashy trees on the mountain sides are either from the arsonists or the μαλάκες that throw their cigarettes out the window.

But you don’t have to see past the waterfront; we will make sure you don't. Please enjoy the delicious food, quaint shops, beautiful views, and most importantly, the warm, hospitable natives. Thanks for coming! We hope to see you next year!