Echoes of Civilization: Reflections on a Journey Through Greece
- Digital Rabbit
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read

A Civilization That Never Really Fell
A large component of my journey through Greece was visiting the ruins of ancient civilization. Spanning from the early Aegean period (around 3000–1000 BCE) through the Hellenistic Period (323–30 BCE), Greek culture gradually spread across the Mediterranean and Near East. Its peak came during the Classical Period—the 5th and 4th centuries BCE—before political control passed to Rome. Yet the Greek “fall” was not a collapse so much as an evolution: Roman rule absorbed Greek ideas so thoroughly that they became the foundation of Western civilization.
Seeing the Past Through Modern Eyes
At each ruin, our local expert offered vivid context—explaining how the buildings once looked, what they housed, and what aspects of Greek society they supported. By the end of nearly two weeks, I carried in my mind a composite image of ancient life: its commerce, politics, social rituals, infrastructure, and military power.


Antiquity in the Modern Landscape
Vestiges of ancient Greece remain woven into modern life. Antiquities shape where new buildings rise, how tall they can be, and even what methods are used in construction. No structure in Athens, for instance, may obstruct the view to or from the Acropolis, a rule I found easy to appreciate. Nearly every rooftop that commands a glimpse of the Parthenon has been turned into a bar or restaurant—a hallmark of modern Greek charm.

Major projects require archaeological surveys, and even after approval, work must halt if ruins are found. Sometimes, rather than removing antiquities, architects incorporate them. In Chania, Crete, for example, the Temple Gift Shop occupies what was once a Venetian church and later an Ottoman mosque; its glass floor reveals Venetian tombs that now draw curious visitors. Likewise, several Athens Metro stations display artifacts uncovered during construction, transforming daily commutes into informal museum visits.

Where the Past Is Still Being Found
For builders, the possibility of unearthing ruins may be daunting, but for scholars of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (ASCSA), it’s the essence of discovery. Founded in 1881, this consortium of North American colleges supports research centers across Greece, exploring every facet of Hellenic culture—past and present.

Our group was privileged to receive a behind-the-scenes visit at Ancient Corinth. After exploring the outdoor ruins and museum exhibits, we were ushered through a “Staff Only” door into the workrooms, where archaeologists shared recent finds.
One display captivated me: 5th-century BCE Punic amphorae that once held fish scales but few bones. Analysis revealed they contained salted fillets of gilthead sea bream and tuna, evidence of a long-distance trade network linking Spain, North Africa, and Corinth.

Descending into Corinth’s Hidden World
As if that weren’t enough, one staff member asked if we’d like to see the basement. Of course we would. Following him down dark, narrow stairs, I felt as though I had stepped into an Indiana Jones film. At the bottom, shelves rose from floor to ceiling, stacked with pottery—some whole, others awaiting reassembly—each tagged with its period. It was marvelous. Still, the Californian in me couldn’t help wondering what would happen to all that careful cataloguing in an earthquake. (Click the upper right of the image to expand the gallery images to their full size.)
The Bookidis-Bouzaki Center: Fresco Central
After our museum visit, staff drove us to the nearby Bookidis-Bouzaki Center for Research and Conservation. We were told not to take photos; what we saw was not yet public—an implied non-disclosure agreement for archaeologists.

The center, named for Stella Bouzaki and Nancy Bookidis, is devoted to conserving Corinth’s ancient frescoes. Bouzaki, the longtime head conservator, once took on the Herculean task of cleaning, stabilizing, and sorting about 100,000 fragments from wall paintings near the ancient theater. She devised a classification system—by pigment, plaster thickness, and curvature—that allowed her to reassemble panels and reconstruct original designs.

Inside the center, we observed every stage of this process. In one large room, a researcher meticulously matched fragments to sketched outlines on the wall, piecing together lost scenes stroke by stroke. The staff hinted that they were close to announcing a major discovery.
A Civilization Reawakened
My visit to the American School of Classical Studies at Corinth, combined with our guide’s constant narration throughout Greece, brought history to life. It’s one thing to stand among ruins; it’s another to meet the people who, fragment by fragment, resurrect a vanished world. In Greece, the past isn’t buried—it’s continually being rediscovered, sedimented beneath time, waiting for someone with enough curiosity and care to brush away the dust.


