Part of Me, Part of You

There at the old streets of the ancient neighborhood of Plaka, I stood dazzled in front of the
greatness of the ancient temples and the beauty of the view, all the way up to the ever-living
Acropolis and all the way down to the ever-lively Syntagma Square. The morning was a bit
chilly with a high potential of rain—it was mid-January anyway—but I couldn't miss that
golden chance to have a tour in Athens, for I was staying there for only a couple of days. The
tour was almost done, but one thing was still missing. They say “Take only memories; leave
only footprints.” However, I left more than my footprints, and I took more than memories.

I passed by a row of bazars after I took as much photos as I could at the many ancient sites. I
must had taken hundreds of photos that day: photos of me imagining the great past at the
archeological sites of Kerameikos and Lykeion, photos of me feeling so tiny under the gate of
the Temple of Olympian Zeus, photos of me feeling like the king of the world at the
Acropolis, photos of me all around the Ancient Agora, and photos of me standing thoughtful
beside Hadrian's Library. Many memories to take, many footprints to leave!

All of a sudden, the reflections of my glories of the day were interrupted by the gentle calls
of one of the locals, a woman in her early forties, with blonde hair and an average weight
and height, drawing a wide smile on her face, inviting me cheerfully to have a look at her
bazar. She looked so friendly and kind. She also looked so hopeful that I might be the drop of
water that could cause the waves of customers to flow into her bazar, where things were
going a bit slow for her at the time. So I decided to fulfill her call and enter her bazar, which
made her smile grow even wider and her voice become even more cheerful. She even out of
nowhere jumped forward and hugged me strongly like a mother hugging a lost child. Her old
mother, sitting on a chair by the door of the bazar, called me to come to her for another hug
and a motherly kiss on the cheek as well. What a welcoming! It is said that when you hug
someone a true hug, you leave part of you with them and they leave part of them with you,
and that was what was going on. More memories, more footprints!

Although it was a relatively small bazar, it had like a thousand of items: T-shirts, statues,
stationery, cups, plates, magnets, jewelry, and the list goes on. She gave me a brief of each
and every item, although she knew that I might not buy anything and just take a look and
leave. Yet, her brief was not brief at all, for it took like almost an hour! Despite that, I so
much respected that, not to mention that I enjoyed every bit of it. We even shifted every
now and then to talk about Greece and the Greek people. Then she told me about her
education and life. I also told her about Egypt and how it is to live in Cairo, a city almost as
ancient as Athens, not to mention telling her about my education and life. One more
Egyptian-Greek friendship was being built, as solid as any of these immortal temples around
us. Did it ever occur to you that when you talk to someone for the first time you feel that as
if you were friends for years? Well, it occurred to me.

Of course there is no need to tell you that I exited the bazar holding like two bags of
souvenirs, all parts of Greece to take back home with me. However, I exited the bazar
holding something more valuable, the unexpected, yet ever-lasting, friendship of this kind
Athenian, and her lovely mother. It's not just memories and footprints after all, but it's parts
of me and parts of you, all interconnected, all human.