Memories from Greece & the Battle Hymn of Mycenea

Going through my notebooks looking for notes on my WIP, I came across my writings and notes on my trip to Greece last summer. This includes the Battle Hymn of Mycenae by Valerie Taylor, which must be introduced to the world, or at the very least, the interwebs. As I went through my notes, it brought to mind some of the most entertaining incidents from the trip to Greece that I had forgotten, though I can't imagine how.

One memory was watching Krissy walk blissfully unaware down a Delphi street. When you think of classic European small town streets with brightly colored shops, restaurants, and hotels that line cobblestone streets, you're thinking of Delphi. It was on this old town street that Krissy strolled soaking in the beauty of this Greek mountainside town, when a behemoth of a lavender tour bus that took up most of the road's real estate headed straight for her. Though this was the first instance of Krissy versus a tour bus during the trip, it would not be the last. In case you were wondering, while the tour bus did win, Krissy lived.

Now some of you may remember the story of how at the end of my first international flight, I looked out the window for my first glimpse of Greece on the ground only to see Ikea. Ikea first opened a store in Pittsburgh, my hometown, when I was in elementary school. I had traveled over 8,000 miles to see Ikea. Can you say anticlimactic? After our stay in the picturesque Delphi, we headed down into Athens. Now that trip is a story in and of itself for a later date, because these are all entertaining anecdotes, not eye-twitch inducing ones. Our hostel we stayed at, Athen's Backpackers (which I would recommend to any group traveling to Athens), was a suite, not one of those dorm-style hostels. Though they did have dorms too. When we entered to pitch black darkness, it stayed that way because we couldn't figure out how to turn on the lights. Luckily for us, Kelsey figured it out after I had already passed out. When the lights did come on, it revealed that all of the furniture in the hostel was from Ikea. The Swedes had followed me Greece. They were stalking me.

Another entertaining memory didn't take place at an exciting archeological or cultural location, but in that hostel suite in downtown Athens. Delores and Tim had left to buy phone cards so we could book somewhere to stay in Nafplio for the remainder of our time in country. Though this proved a challenge, because the EU parliamentary elections were that weekend. (Let me just say, if you ever have a chance to visit Greece, take the time to stay in Nafplio. Its on the Mediterranean, has flowers overflowing everywhere, from rocky hillsides to canopying the streets, and the medieval old town is a breathtaking pedestrian shopping district. Just go. Trust me.) So, the girls and I were hanging out in the hostel watching Greek television that had no subtitles. While I can muddle my way through reading Greek, I have absolutely no hope understanding it conversationally. We watched some news until we came across this movie, at least we think it was a movie. As far as we could tell, it was a suspense, horror movie, at least we think it was a horror flick. What we were able to gather was that there was this love triangle and the moon was somehow important. Well, either it was important or the director really really wanted to set the mood. Though no werewolves were ever actually shown, the woman had been locked up and there was howling and again the whole moon thing, so clearly it was about werewolves, at least we think it was about werewolves. But of all the aspects of this enigmatic, way-too-many-shots-of-the-moon, love triangle, werewolf movie that dissolved us into laughter the most was a lone tree in a field being shaken violently. Yes, you heard me - tree choking. Whenever things went wrong, the hero, or possibly he was the villain, would go into this field and shake this tree and scream at the moon. What this was supposed to accomplish we had no idea, but we had plenty of theories. So the next time you're thwarted in love, be like the Greeks and go shake a tree in a field.

While this next incident can't really rival watching a Greek movie without subtitles, the absurdity still makes me laugh. When we took a walking tour in Athens, several things happened that just seemed so surreal. But one occurred when we reached the ruins of Hadrian's Library. Standing in front of the ledge that overlooked the Roman ruins below were two Greek Orthodox priests in their typical vestments of a black cossak and a kamilavkion, which is a black cylindrical hat. The scene of the ancient ruins right near the Plaka, Athens' famous market district, with the priests was so stereotypically Greek that is should have been on a postcard. That was until we got closer and noticed that the priests were texting on their phones. Talk about shattering my illusions.

Now we come to the reason for this post, which is The Battle Hymn of Mycenea composed at Mycenea under the watchful eye of the mountain the locals call Sleeping Agamemnon. This parody really sums up the ancient Greek view of life so very well.

Battle Hymn of Mycenea (to the tune of the Battle Hymn of the Republic)
by Valerie Taylor

Mines eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the king.
We are marching off to battle to bring back golden things.
Victory proceeds us cause we killed a thousand cows.
Our gods are marching on.

Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Our gods are marching on.

The wine poured for libations seems to me to be a waste.
Were it up to me the army should have had a little taste.
Fight or die, we can't retreat. There's really not a choice.
So, we keep marching on.

Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Our gods are marching on.

I'm pretty sure we're gonna win, that's what the Oracle said.
But even if we battle hard, we still might end up dead.
I really hope it doesn't hurt, but even if we die.
Our names they will live on.

Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Glory, glory Agamemnon.
Our gods are marching on.