Nazis and My Hair, Again.

Today Brad and I were invited to lunch with some American study-abroad students going to ACT, which is the college level division of Anatolia, and the place we'll be taking Greek classes. After we ate we all went on a tour of Anatolia's on-campus bomb shelter, a remnant of the days during World War II when the entire campus was occupied by the German army. I guess the Germans were afraid of being bombed out by the Allies, and so they built this shelter, which you access by climbing down about twenty billion itty bitty crumbling steps in the almost pitch dark, while clutching a wobbly rope. It was something of an adventure. Since the bomb shelter itself was never used, it mostly consists of empty space, spiderwebs, and crumbling bricks, but it's pretty crazy to think of spending a night down there; it's an eerie place. It's also strange to think that this very campus was occupied by the Nazis not so very long ago.
In fact, while Brad and I were having dinner with one member of the English department, he told us that his home was the former German Officer's Club. All of this is a very interesting reminder that although Anatolia looks like a pretty, new, modern high school campus, it has a much more exciting history than one would guess.

Meanwhile, on a more mundane note, I need a haircut, or at least a trim, and I don't know what to do. I'll have to find a haircutter that speaks English, because I don't have enough faith in my Greek to instruct someone who is going to determine what I look like for the next few weeks or months. I am not entirely sure how to deal with this, and I'm wondering why my adjustment problems all seem to be hair-related.