Why did we disconnect?

An impromptu trip to Turkey took me through Bulgaria and Greece as stopovers.

One to stretch our legs, the other – to fill our tummies.

Borders were crossed and a swim in the sea followed near Makri, but I already sensed weird energy around me.

It was Thursday evening and the streets of Alexandroupoli that were once cheerful and packed were now only packed.

We tried to enter a store but had nowhere to park. Yet two different people – a man and a woman – arrived in two separate cars and parked their cars on two spots each. The man then piously put on a mask and walked inside the store. I was deeply saddened by the double standard! And I didn't even mind when I was no longer allowed inside the store because it had reached closing time.

We went to our favourite restaurant, chose a table, and had enough time to people-watch.
Most of them seemed robotised, soulless, and sad.

There was such hopelessness in the air that even the delightful food before us didn't bring us the joy it used to.

Sandwiched between Bulgaria – which has pretty much the same economic situation as Romania – and Turkey – where inflation is rampant –, this short stop in Greece made me realise that the two and a half years changed the country.

Yes, it may be different from region to region and from people to people, but the small details are not picked up by everybody, anyway...

In Bulgaria, there's kindness and people wish to live and let live, while Turkey feels unchanged even though people there struggle infinitely more than in Greece. In Turkey, there's cheerfulness that can be felt. People devote time to simply stop and see you, understand you and your needs.

And in my own country of Romania, we are soft and kind (until we aren't). Because we've fought the system so much that it's ingrained in us. We don't take s**t and we are now labelled 'rebels' amongst Europeans, especially by the Westerners. We don't care. Most of us are connected to our hearts and wish to live, really live by enjoying our lives!

And that's the point. Have most Greeks accepted defeat by letting their minds rule over their hearts?

False empathy is a form of narcissism. And narcissism stands for an inability to feel.

Watching from the side, I felt sorry for those people and no longer wish to return.
Let's not forget what horrific blackmails led to our dehumanisation over the past 30 months.  How we were fooled and lied to and poisoned and killed.

Fear is (still) a choice.