Opposition or adaptation?

Anonymous To begin with, I would like to make a disclaimer: Having only been in Greece for 2 full days and never having studied Greek culture in depth, my understanding of said culture is limited. Therefore, the following reflections require me to make a few leaps from observation to generalization; that is to say, I will be making assumptions that I recognize may or may not be true about Greek culture.
That said, one piece of Greek culture as I attempt to understand it is a certain expectation of fashionable dress. This is something to which I am willing to adapt, to a degree, but which also contains elements to which I am not willing to adapt. Namely, the consistent wearing of high heels. I am really speaking from my experience with fashion in Spain, another place where the expectation of fashionable dress is higher than my that of my Pacific Northwest home (which is, admittedly, low). Upon my arrival in Spain, and chafing at my undeniable and unmistakable foreign-ness (and having lost my luggage, a good excuse to go shopping...), I made an attempt to "fit in." I went so far as to buy a pair of knee-high black leather boots with a little heel (not as big as some, but some heel nonetheless). For some reason, the memory of those boots epitomizes, for me, this conflict of identity. Now, never before having payed so much attention to "fashion," growing up the Pacific Northwest, and not really being drawn to all the styles worn by Spaniards, I can't say I had immediate success in this endeavor. But the point is, I tried. To the extent that I was able, I tried to adapt. In the winter I wore a short sweater-dress with my boots and in the summer, a truly waist-high short shirt with my shirt tucked in and leggings. Sometimes I pulled it off, sometimes I did not. By the end of the semester I had succeeded in feeling like I "fit in" as much as was possible for me to do (though not entirely). But this, I realized, had come about, not because of how I dressed, but by my familiarity with the culture and the city, my improving language skills, and my friendly interaction with Spanish people who became my friends. My knee-high boots only got me a few whistles and made me slightly to profoundly uncomfortable while walking around in them. Alas. For this reason, I left them in Spain, knowing that without the pressure to be fashionable at home, I would never wear them. Indeed, even with that pressure in Spain, I recognized my mistake. If I had continued to live in Spain, having realized the futility of that type of adaptation, I would have gradually abandoned it. It is this experiential wisdom that I bring with me to Greece. It is two-fold, first is the realization that, regardless of how I dressed, I will never be a Spaniard/Greek. My boots may have gained me a little more acceptance, it is true, but, was it worth it? The answer is my second piece of experiential wisdom: no. Not worth it. I have a choice: I can either be uncomfortable standing out, or try to fit in a little, while being physically and otherwise uncomfortable. I am not made to wear heels on cobblestone streets. They aren't "me," and what's more, my feet hate me. And so, here in Greece, I refuse to be ashamed of my tennis shoes!! Even were I not a "tourist" and here to stay, I would wear them proudly. I might be tempted to buy some sweet ankle-high boots with a very modest heel and good arch-support (were I staying), such as I have at home as well... but knee-high = no way (at least with heels). (Although... it is still tempting to abandon my tradition for these cosmopolitan ways... but my feet will object... ;).
While it is nice to show a little care in how you dress, I don't consider this something necessary to import into my tradition. Jeans and tennies are just fine with me. I do think, however, that my "tradition" could be greatly enriched by the practice of long, social meals. Eating in the US is often done to get it done, rather than to savor both food and friendship. It is my observation that Greeks (and Spaniards) love to linger over a meal or a cup of coffee and socialize. I'm sure their lives have just as many demands as mine does, but they make time. For them, it is time well-spent, not wasted, to, say, have an extra long lunch at a café, rather than grab a sandwich to eat on the go. There have been studies that show how important it is to have sit-down family meals to build connections and relationships. I think this goes for relationships with both family and friends. I often see these relationships get the short stick amongst all the demands of daily American life, and I think that sitting down to eat... and not just eat, but linger and socialize, would do wonders for our connectedness-- and for our waistlines. Eating not just to eat, but to enjoy the food we choose to eat, and, more than anything, to enjoy the company of those we love.