And so it begins....what I hope will not turn out to be Greece's version of a tragic comedy. But judging how by things are going so far, I'm a little apprehensive that what should be Greece's shining moment on the world stage this August 13 may instead reveal what "Hellinas" the world over know...that the Greeks haven't been organized since their last Olympics.

I'm an Olympic volunteer and I've just arrived in Greece to pick up my uniform, credentials, ticket to the opening ceremony rehearsal and find out just what it is I'm supposed to be doing. But just finding out how to get these simple tasks completed has just about qualified to be its own Olympic event.

Although I applied to be a volunteer about a year ago, it wasn't until mid June of this year, after I called the Olympic headquarters in Greece, that I found out I had been accepted. I was told an offer letter was in the mail and to sign it and fax it back immediately.

The fact that volunteers (at least overseas volunteers) weren't notified until about seven weeks before the Olympics should have been my first clue of what was to come. I was on the lookout for the letter...but it didn't arrive until mid July. And then the fax number I was supposed to use only rang and rang...and rang. So heeding the urgency to accept with haste, I scanned the letter and emailed it; only to then receive several emails saying I hadn't sent back my confirmation.

This was soon followed by the phone calls; most of them to my mom...at 4 am. Repeatedly she told the callers my phone number and yet they still kept calling her. But just to break up the routine, the Olympic volunteer coordinators sometimes called me...at 6 am. We traded phone calls for a couple of weeks, never connecting. After about eight calls to my mom and two or three to me, they changed tactics and called my aunt in Greece.

When I finally spoke with someone, it was to verify my passport details so I could get my uniform and credentials, but the coordinator couldn't tell me where, or give me any information on my assignment. That was a different department.

I knew I'd been placed in Spectator Services, which I figured was a fancy way of saying "usher". My designated area was the baseball stadium (I didn't even know it was an Olympic sport) which I figured they'd chosen for me because I'm American. But I didn't know the where and when's and how's of what I was doing. Two weeks before the Games and I still had no idea was what going on.

Upon arrival in Greece my aunt said she'd received two more phone calls; one from Kelly about opening ceremony rehearsal tickets (a happy surprise) and another from Kiki about my uniform. After a few busy signals and a long hold time I finally found out where I was supposed to be and when.

The next day was dedicated to picking up my rehearsal ticket, uniform and credentials - the only challenge being the uniform distribution center was on one end of the Athens metro area and the rehearsal tix on the other (for a size comparison - think a spread the size of Los Angeles). But no worries because there was a new, improved transit system to ferry people all around.

The prospect of using the new transport system was both intimidating and exciting at the same time. I was intimidated because for some reason I have no sense of direction in Athens, and I've been here eight times! It may be because so many buildings look alike, the result of a building spurt in the '50s and '60s, or because sometimes street signs are not easy to find. But I was excited because the much needed and awaited transport system was brand new and most likely easy to navigate (for a change).

Getting the subways and trams finished in time for the Olympics is another feat that should qualify for an Olympic medal. In just a few years four new subway and tram lines were constructed and opened. Impressive enough in itself, but Greece has the added burden of being an ancient civilization and this means layers upon layers of history are laying under the pavement of modern Athens. The new subways were basically going to pass right through numerous unexplored historical sites. In an attempt to safeguard some sites, it was decreed that any site of significance had to be either dug up and housed in a museum or preserved in place. Digs are very time consuming and expensive, so in most cases the subway went around the obstacle, resulting in what is probably now the world's crookedest subway. The upside is many fascinating archeological treasures were preserved in place, creating what is also probably the world's only underground museum; its "wings" visited solely via subway car! The station at Syntagma is particularly attractive with a multi-layered "slice" of ancient Greece exposed and explained to the curious passersby.

The trams were delayed by the usual Greek passion of protesting, in this case from residents in the affected neighborhoods - forget the fact that a 'green' solution was needed for congested and pollution ridden Athens. As a result the tram opened only a few weeks ago.

Unfortunately the foreign press covering the progress of the Olympic construction in Greece was very critical of the time it took to finish these projects. While they sometimes conceded that the construction projects faced unique problems, rather than applaud the Greeks for even attempting to make such improvements they focused on the time it was taking...a theme that was repeated over and over as the world watched to see if Greece would stumble and fall. But these reporters in tsk, tsking over the construction delays were demonstrating their ignorance of Greek culture, specifically the Greeks' concept of time (see sidebar on Greek time).

But the kinks were worked out and both transports provide comfortable, airconditioned rides and sure enough, can get you just about anywhere you need to go for the Olympics. So off I went, this knowledge in mind and directions in hand on my own little odyssey to acquire my Olympic 'stuff'.

Next - Like Jason searching for the Golden Fleece, Maria goes on a quest for her Olympic gear...

Greek Time:

I was raised with American time and Greek Time. On American time you show up or finish when you say you will. But on Greek time, a dinner hour or a project deadline is more of a suggestion. Being hour or more late is not unusual. Never was an Easter meal with family at the hour it was supposed to be. Never did we leave for the beach/lake/park when I was told we would. As a result I spent most of my life being chronically late until I realized employers don't understand Greek time and had to switch to following American time rules (of which I'm still not accomplished).

So while I refer to the Greeks not being organized, I and all other Greeks and hyphenated Greeks also know that eventually they get around to getting it done. While the Olympic committee has been nervously awaiting the completion of the venues and reporters from punctually-obsessed places like Germany, Switzerland and Japan gleefully broadcast images of unfinished parking lots and dirt patches still awaiting landscaping, we know that things get done in 'Greek time'. It may be late, it may be just hours before the Games commence, but it will get done. Because when the zero hour is near Greek pride converts Greek time into double time. It's just the Greek way.