| Dear Family and Friends, I never thought I would ever be nervous or frightened to tell people where I�m from. I have always been proud to be an American, I still am, but I have never experienced so much negative energy directed at the place I call home. All over Greece, my friends and I were asked, �Where are you from?!� �Well,� we would hedge uncertainly. �We live in Bulgaria, but we are from the states.� Since when have I been nervous to say, �I am an AMERICAN?!� Has it been since the world has gotten so out-of-control and crazy?! Being an American living abroad is quite a difference experience as the war rages just on the other side of the Black Sea. For the most part, I have just been buried in my little Bulgarian town, without a T.V. to flash constant images of war across the screen. I am surrounded by liberal Peace Corps volunteers who don�t give a second thought to slandering the American government, the American troops, and the American president and I often sit back and wonder, �How could you possibly call yourselves Americans if all you�re going to do is sit there and insult what should have our support?!� How can we possibly cast our eyes down upon the very government and military, which fought to give us OUR own freedom so that we would never know what it�s like to live without liberty? During my spring break trip to Greece, I faced the anti-American/anti-war sentiment head on for the first time since the war in Iraq began. Athens was lined with protesters, carrying bold flags and signs and wearing little anti-war buttons. �All we are say-ing, is give peace a chance!� they sang as they invaded the center of the large city, conveniently in front of a normally busy MacDonald�s. And you know what? That MacDonald�s was actually CLOSED for most of the day, during the protest, with their signs taken down from outside of the restaurant and everything. I never thought I�d see the day that a MacDonald�s would close its doors! But, I guess it�s better to be safe than sorry . . . For this same reason, my friends and I stayed as far away from the large groups of protesters as we possibly could. Since when has being an American been so difficult?!!? However, it wasn�t until we got to the island of Crete and to a small city on the island called Hanea that I particularly felt the need to defend my country and its president. Hanea is apparently home to a NATO base as well as a little group called the �Crete Social Forum.� Upon entering Hanea, we were immediately greeted with such signs as, �Yankees Go Home!� and �Yankees Get Out of Iraq!� Immediately, I was unsure about whether or not I wanted to be there. Sure, there are such signs all over the world, but I felt very unwelcome in Hanea. Anti-America/anti-war graffiti littered the city, screaming such sentiments as, �F*!# America!� �No Blood For Oil!� �NATO + USA = Nazi!� �USA Nazis!�, etc. I cringed at the sight of shredded American flags, flags bearing swastikas where the stars should be, and much more. I was appalled and mortified; I was timid to speak my American English and also driven with the desire to defend my country. The Crete Social Forum, a radical group of washed-out hippies, also engaged in protests during our couple of days in Hanea, chanting, waving flags and signs, and beating drums in an attempt to make their voices heard. I had never seen a protest in action before and just the thought of it made me shiver. My friend assured me that this was an attack on my government and president and not on me personally, but, as a representative of the American people, I still saw this as a personal attack . . . and I didn�t like it at all. After our two days in Hanea, we boarded the ferry to return to Athens. Little did we know that the entire group of protesters would be aboard our ship, most likely on their way to a protest in Athens. The Crete Social Forum, bearing dreadlocks and tye-died t-shirts camped out all over the boat . . . it was impossible to get away from them. I tore through the large boat looking for a �hideout�, but everywhere I turned there were Greeks wearing bright, Anti-war buttons. They had set up tables with brochures and pamphlets and they congregated in mass hovels. Those ferries also have many TV�s all over the boat and it seemed as if everywhere I turned there was a television set blasting news of the war with many Greek eyes totally glued to the screen. I felt uncomfortable and anxious; I was overcome with pro-America sentiment. It was hard to settle in and relax on this ferry, but I eventually forced myself to realize that these people weren�t going to hurt me. As the night wore on, the Greek news dredged up more war stories. They began to discuss a protest in Hanea that had occurred that day, an obvious event of the Crete Social Forum as many of them jumped up and raced to the TV to get a better view. The news broadcast showed the group marching and yelling, blowing little things up and burning American flags. I watched in horror as a couple of the members let out little prideful cheers. �That�s it!� I told my friend Marisa. �I just can�t take or understand this! I feel like I should be supporting my country while the rest of the world is hating it!� And with that, I got up and went to the bathroom to change into my Peace Corps shirt, the one shirt I own that contains an emblem of the American flag. I�m sure my little display didn�t do a thing, it didn�t change anything, but it certainly made ME feel better. I support my country and I support my troops, even if the rest of the world, and many Americans, choose to disagree with me. I am thankful for the freedom and the blessings that I have and I shouldn�t be frightened to tell people WHO I AM. I am an AMERICAN, I am PROUD, and I hope we kick Sadaam�s butt. From Bulgaria With Love, Chantel |
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