Theatre of Conflict. The Palace of King Othon and King George.Built in the 1840's. Νow, the House of Parliament. Three hundred members elected to represent the people of Greece are voting for cuts, taxes and the end of what will someday be known as the Golden Era of the Neo-Greek. Tens of thousands outside are shouting thieves, thieves, thieves. The crowd is passionate and united. There are no signs of political polarization. There is anger and there is optimism. A sense of : This has to be the end.
The Unknown Soldier embossed on the wall in the background laying dead, bravely fallen, hovering - wondering what kind of a fight this is.
Riot Control Squads forming a wall in front of the House of Parliament. The image of heroes waiving their flags before their oppresors is an image well planted in the memories of Greeks. After the first days of tension, policemen would take off their helmets, lay back and engage in small talk with those protesting.
When I was at this kid's age my father took me on his shoulders in the pre-election rally of the socialist party. It was 1989. One or two or three miliion Greeks on the streets with flags and firecrackers with passion and joy, shouting, chanting, cheering for the man who was about to come forth. The party's leader, Andreas Papandreou, was a great leader. In that he could lead the people to wherever he decided. What he decided though , is now cashed back by this young kid right here. On his father's shoulders. In 2010. Protesting against the son of Andreas Papandreou, George. History is a science. A great teacher and really a great friend.
A desperate person acts on impulse. He shouts, even though he knows no one can hear him. He waives, though he knows no one can see him.
Change of guard at night. Soldiers pay tribute to the Unknown Soldier before they give away their duties. In the foreground, police riot control squads secure the area to protect MP's voting inside.
"We don't care what network you work for. You're all fucking shit. Fucking Go Home." The anger of the crowd extended from politicians, to their staff, to journalists and even the camera men who were covering the flow of events. In their view they are all part of the same syndicate. A syndicate that has stolen money, has corrupted all major institutions and has put society's well being at risk.
The monument of the Unknown Soldier is a fairly popular tourist attraction and is located at the front side of the House of Parliament. Two soldiers wearing traditional uniforms guard the monument, while remaining absolutely still. People gather to watch the change of guard - a very impressive choreography. Some of them also like to feed corn to the huge population of pigeons that circle the area. During the summer of 2010, barricades kept visitors at a distance.The soldiers were never so lonely The pigeons were never before so hungry.
One man took the time to write FUCK PROGRESS on a wall. Another man took the time to take a close up photo of it. Another man took the time to take a photo of the man who was taking a photo of the wall that read FUCK PROGRESS. And for a while we did.
I mean. You know. It's bad diet anyway. So. Fuck it.
The destroyed entrance of the Ministry of Finance.
Two boys and a girl taking a break. Trash and ruin. Closed streets and fire. They know about this game. They're playing blindfolded with tied hands. It is unfair. And you hear that now, so often.
This man must have been about 25 years old in 1974. He knows very well where the whole damn thing went wrong.
Syntagma square. Home of the Desperate. People gathered, discussed, agreed, disagreed, drunk and sung and then they said goodbye and off they were to the bright blue seas. It was some kind of magic. As everything is on this side of the map.
