Never have I hated an alarm clock so much. Every morning, at five o’clock sharp, I drag myself out of bed and feel my way to the light switch, received by a chorus of groans from the other five girls in the room. For the next half hour, I bumble around the room, brushing my teeth, putting on my already filthy dig clothes, filling my water jug, smearing on sunscreen, and fumbling with my bootlaces.
At 5:30, we clamber into our cramped but still somehow cozy bus. Mind you, this bus is meant for twenty-two people, but we manage to cram in about twenty-six people for the thirty-minute drive to site. On the way to site, the bus is quiet. Many people fit in a power nap as we bump along up the mountain and creak around hairpin turns. Finally, we reach our driving destination, and we tumble out of the car to breakfast.
Breakfast is always an exciting start to the day, or as Anders would say, a magical experience. Bleary-eyed, we swat away the bees and duck away from the donkey bees as we enjoy a meal of bread, cheese, olives, jam, butter, tomatoes, cucumber, and chai. We humor ourselves with hilarious anecdotes and opinions of the donkey-bees while we slowly wake up. After we finish, off to the acropolis we go, enjoying the cool breeze and breathtaking sunrise. The ascent is somewhat awkward as we trudge over rocks and up the windy path, but nevertheless we carry on. We make it to the top of our little hill, slightly out of breath but exhilarated with the prospect of a new day of discovery.