I have now been back in Greece for six months. I haven’t
stayed here this long in eight years. I will not lie, not everything has been
easy to adjust to; the lack of Five Guys, the presence of my mother. But as
these six months don’t look like they are the end of it, I have decided to make
most of my stay. So I asked myself; what is it that I can do here that I
couldn’t do in the UK? Eat tasty, fresh food? Sure. Get a tan and some
well-deserved vitamin D? Of course. Get yelled at by a driver who wanted to
break the law but I was in the way? Most certainly. But the biggest difference
between the UK and Greece is the prices of, well, everything. See, I have wanted
to try Improv for a few years (took me a while, but I got to the point), but
most classes worth doing in London are over a hundred pounds a month. The
reason I wanted to try Improv, apart from the obvious reason of laughter, is
that it is so out of character for me, so out of my comfort zone. Therefore, I
thought, what better way to try something so risky for me than the cheaper way?
Also, I wanted to start doing things and sort of set out a
schedule for my time here. But that wouldn’t make much of an intro. So, anyway,
I tried Improv. And loved it.
Obviously, it has only been one class so this isn’t meant to
compel anyone to try it, although I have tried to convince a bunch of friends.
This is more of an account of a complete novice to this world of fun and
silliness. I should mention at this point that prior to going to class, I
looked up the company and saw that they would also do corporate seminars and
that completely baffled me. Until I realised how important the aspect of
collaboration and adjustability was to the practice of Improv. We did a bunch
of exercises that were completely devoid of ego. You were there for your
partner’s idea and ready to build on their every suggestion. It was liberating.
And fucking difficult. And ultimately funny. That was another aspect of Improv
that was highlighted time and time again; it ends up being funny, but that
should not be the driving force. Which was even more liberating, because there
is nothing less funny than the pressure to be funny. I have spent a lifetime ensuring
no one expects that of me.
The pandemic, of course, affected our time in Improv as
everyone had to wear a mask. This effect was twofold; first of all, you only
made out about half of what others said. So for example, in one game, where we
each had to say a single word to make up a story, said story was particularly
incomprehensible as ‘boy’ sounded like ‘bird’ and many a boy ended up flying
and laying eggs. The second effect was that a lot of facial expressions were
not available to whoever was putting themselves on the line. You miss out on
the reassuring smiles, but possibly also on smirks of disgust. Problem is I am
prone to assume that the latter would be a constant mode whenever I am
concerned. Oh well, small price to pay. Just like the price for the classes in
comparison to London, did I mention? I wouldn’t change a thing though, if the
Covid safety measures were not in place, I would most likely still be in my
room in the attic ‘Yes and’-ing my large stuffed Baymax. The bastard has much
better ideas than me.
It really was a great experience. I am sure it will continue
to be. I am also sure it will continue to be extremely hard for an introvert
like me, especially considering a lot of the games require you to step up, take
initiatives and sit in the middle of the room. I should stop writing; I am
making myself panicky and might never go back. But I do have a viva coming up,
so this type of exposure might be just what I need. There is a game where you
can only answer questions with questions that I imagine will come particularly
handy when they quiz me about my thesis.
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