The End is Near

It's been a while since I caught up with all of you (at least the ones who read this blog). My trips to Tallahassee and Cincinnati, and my imminent trip to Greece in 24 days (but who's counting) have thrown my whole schedule into whack, but I am determined for all of us to stay focused on Latin until the end of classes *next week*. I can hardly believe that this is it, the much dreaded end, the story that repeats itself with every year of beginning Latin: the first semester climbing, the survivors into the second semester, the growing closer and more comfortable, only to separate at the end because that is life and people graduate or have had enough Latin (can you ever have enough Latin?!)

I was contemplating today about why it is that I always get so mushy, moody, and utterly depressed when the end of the Beginning Latin section is in sight. I was also thinking about the classics lecture yesterday, on the struggles of the modern Greek nation against the Turks, and the role of Greek tragedy in that context. And then I put two and two together. I am so sad to lose you all now because, as a Greek, I am culturally predetermined to experience even mild sadness as extreme tragedy. Case in point, consider the attached picture: this is a picture of my street and home in Iraklion. To your left, in the background, you see my house (with the flowers in the second floor balcony). In the foreground to the right, you see the tiny front yard of a neighbor, whose young son died a few years ago in a motorcycle accident. She made special arrangements with the church to have him buried in her front porch. Which means that all of us, her neighbors, go by his grave every single day, see her tending to it, participate in her endless grief, and still think of the deceased man as our neighbor. I am sure that this strikes you as raw, and in fact it is, but I never quite knew how heavy it was on our hearts until I came to this country and then went back and was shocked afresh by this sight. It is not a cultural baggage I wish on anyone of you. And yet I have to admit that experiencing blinding pain like Greeks do, deeply and fatally, sharpens our psyche to the intense pleasures and joys in life in a way that is almost beyond words. I am so happy to have crossed paths with all of you, I wish you had some idea of how fabulous you have been and how much I learned from you during this past year...and the other side of my joy is to feel already nostalgic for our classes and jokes and everything else that you are.

Anyway, can you tell I am in a *mood*? Before this gets too maudlin, a couple of things to lighten up the atmosphere. My good colleague and friend, Dr. Ava Chitwood, is recommending to us two book series of novels dealing with Roman topics. She calls them the 'perfect airplane reads,' and, I add, the perfect beach reads since I am sure you will all be heading there soon. Here they are, check them out:

http://www.conniggulden.com/

http://www.gladiatorsoftheempire.com/gladiators.htm

Also, I forgot to welcome Jordan to the blog--better late than ever! Thanks for the lowdown on our substitute, btw. Yes, I think he is a very interesting person, but perhaps we are not ready yet for full blown conversations in Latin! I too was terrified the first time I spoke to him, talk about tongue-tied; I think I forgot my English and my Greek too!

ok, I am heading home. Looking forward to our few more days in class,

E.