Malakas

Allow me to set the scene:

It’s a little after 7 AM, and I’m frantically confirming that the approaching Bus 31 will route through the central station of Thessaloniki. Today’s itinerary starts with a early morning journey to Litochoro, Greece to hike Mount Olympus with my friend Jack, meaning I need to be on my way soon. I board and take my seat. Feeling around for my bus ticket, I notice my left pocket feels emptier than normal… no wallet. I check my AirTag’s location, and while my backpack is pinging right alongside me, the wallet is frozen two bus stops back. I immediately disembark, run the ~12 minutes back to where I first boarded, check my phone again, and find that the wallet had now relocated two miles away. It then stops updating as there are no nearby iPhones to ping off of and relay its location.

I considered all the possibilities. Was it some passerby’s lucky day to find an American ID and stranded $200? Was my AirTag actually delayed and my wallet now riding solo on Bus 31? Did it grow legs and wander off into the Macedonian countryside? (This seemed least likely…) Regardless, it was safe to assume that I had said my final goodbye to my cash, credit cards, debit card, driver’s license, and collection of two (2) shiny collectible Delta Airlines airplane model trading cards.

I took the first step that any responsible 20-year-old abroad would take: a panicked, middle-of-the-night phone call home to my parents. We worked to pause my credit/debit cards, problem-solve an immediate money solution, and make a plan to financially sustain nine more weeks of travel. I called my contact at Vanderbilt as well, and they recommended I don’t waste my time with a police station report as stolen wallets rarely find their way home. I concluded this was the universe’s first test of resilience in my solo travel experience, so I put my emotions to the side and went to meet Jack for our (now much later) train to Mount Olympus.

I spent the day with my phone on airplane mode, partially to conserve data usage while hiking in areas of spotty service and partially to segment this morning’s chaos for later this evening; I didn’t want to let one (devastating, albeit) mistake dictate an entire day’s emotions. We hiked for six hours, and after returning to the nearby town for a bus ride back home, I encountered the strangest message request in my music instagram’s DMs:

“I am a police officer in police station kordeliou evosmou. Please call us in [phone number] because someone found your wallet.”

WTF. How did they find me? Is this a scam?? Did the greek gods of Mount Olympus have something to do with this??? Obviously, I responded to explain that I was en route back to Thessaloniki and could be there within two hours. Even with whatever sort of miraculous luck I already had, I still found it hard to trust that all the wallet’s original contents would be there waiting for me.

I arrived to the central station and found the public bus to take me near the provided address. Before boarding, I called the provided number to give them a time estimate.

”Hello, is this the police station?”

”Yes.”

”I’m Matthew, the American with the lost wallet.”

”Matthew! We are excited to meet you! How are you coming to station?”

”Uh… I’m taking the public bus and will be there within the hour.”

”No, we do not have bus stop nearby?”

“It’s alright, it’s only an 8-minute walk from the nearest station! I’m good to walk and ca—”

“No, Matthew, it’s okay. We send a police car. Go to taxi stand. When you see police, make signal. We will drive.”

Well, now this is just absurd. I shouldn’t be rewarded with a free private ride to the station when I’m the one with the lost wallet! Regardless, I decide to trust the plot and go to wait alone for a mystery ride with the Greek police. Sure enough, a cruiser pulls up and I go to hop in and meet local officers John and Kostos.

”Matthew! We have been waiting to meet you! Where are you from?”

”The United States! Thank you so much for this ride, it’s an incredibly kind gestu—”

“Wow, America! Your accent is perfect, we like it very much. Please say everything. We want to hear your English.”

Alright then. We spent the next 20 minutes gabbing away about everything under the sun. So much so that I forgot to check in with an anxious Drasnin household back home, concerned and confused that I’m now locked in the back of a foreign police car thousands of miles from home.

We arrive to the station and I head inside to meet Matziri, a wonderfully kind woman that seemed to be the lead investigator on this “missing wallet case”. I see my wallet, contents and all. She asks where I’ve been, why I haven’t tracked my wallet, why I didn’t file a report, etc. I explain in great detail. She then retells their strategy to track me down. First, a call to my insurance company to see what information they can provide… nothing immediately useful. Then, a call to Fifth Third Bank (per my debit card)… no information obtained. Calls to the help desks of Capital One and Discover? Nothing can be done without an account! Finally, in a last-ditch effort, they discover me through the wonders of social media… the rest is history.

I’m absolutely gobsmacked. I’m quite literally in the presence of the Greek Sherlock Holmes. This level of dedication was beyond my immediate comprehension; all I could do to show my profuse gratitude was say thank you ~50 times and promise to keep track of my valuables like my life depended on it. After exchanging Instagram usernames, I said goodbye and went back outside for a cruiser ride home with John and Kostos.

—

I seriously underestimated Greek hospitality. Prior to leaving for this trip, I was warned by friends and family that Greece was dirty, unsafe, and challenging to navigate as an outsider. Of course, tourist hotspots like Monastiraki Square or the Acropolis in Athens will have their share of swindling; but here in Thessaloniki, I’ve found only the upmost respect and courtesy from the locals. The Greeks I’ve met have challenged my assumptions time and time again, reminding me that good people exist everywhere. Traveling allows you to immerse yourself in an unfamiliar lifestyle, but that unfamiliarity rarely equates to inferiority. With exposure to different ways of life, you’re able to encounter beautiful acts of humanity that may not be present in your own culture. This has been one of my greatest joys thus far as a Keegan Fellow.