You're reading: At every turn, Greek crisis permeates a society

ATHENS, Greece (AP) — The Athens subway is a sleek showcase for modernity tailored to reverence for the past. Some stations display ancient looms, amphoras and statues from the Parthenon. The metro website says its "operation policy is focused on the passenger."

Except when the workers are on strike, as they were Monday. It was the latest labor unrest over wage cuts by a government struggling to stick to a bitter pact that trades austerity at home for bailout funds from abroad.

Such protests are the most theatrical symptom of a financial crisis permeating all sectors of Greek society. In virtually any field or endeavor, there is fallout. It is like a vast, spontaneous project in social engineering by a sinister, invisible hand.

There are the numbers, including 16 percent unemployment and an economy expected to contract by about 5.5 percent this year. The government wants to cut the pay of 30,000 civil servants as a prelude to dismissal, and a general strike is planned Oct. 19 to protest cutbacks and tax hikes.

"The majority of the middle class, they feel they’ve been penalized in every direction," said Anthony Coumidis, a director at McBains Cooper, a London-based property consultancy that has struggled to find financial support for Greek construction projects such as schools, hospitals and detention centers.

"They feel that the people at the top end of the market, the very rich, the very large companies, they get away with it, they don’t pay their taxes," Coumidis said. "There is a lot of that hard feeling around the place."

There is also private desperation.

The Greek health ministry reported last month that suicides jumped 40 percent in the first five months of 2011 over the same period in the previous year, with analysts linking the surge to the pressures of economic hardship.

New data points to rising street crime and drug abuse, commensurate with deteriorating health care and policing. As a developed Western nation, Greece remains far more tranquil and comfortable than most of the rest of the world. But an edginess has crept in, undercutting the stereotypical image, one promoted by the tourist board, of a sun- and history-splashed oasis.

These days, there are perils to employment in the Greek government, widely blamed by its citizens for the venality and wastefulness that have been, in a broad sense, a collective national effort over decades. Some Greeks see their leaders as virtual puppets of Germany and other international lenders that set harsh terms for a €110 billion ($146 billion) bailout package.

On the weekend, the interior minister, Haris Kastanidis, was besieged by students who tossed yoghurt at him as he watched a movie in a cinema in Thessaloniki. According to one report, some people in the audience welcomed the interruption, applauding the students and booing the minister.

The protesters taunted Kastanidis, suggesting he might flee in a helicopter if the crisis reaches a boiling point, just as Argentina’s president fled the government palace after resigning amid economic turmoil in 2001. Argentina’s social chaos was far more pronounced than that of Greece so far, and the economy there recovered after a painful currency devaluation and debt default.

Dark humor, paired with candid appraisals, are the flavor of the moment in Greece. Michalis Chrysohoidis, the development minister, drew scattered applause last week at an investment forum when he seemed to imply that the economy resembled a zombie.

"After all, it seems that there is life after death," said Chrysohoidis, a former security minister who presided over successful operations against leftist militants. Last year, a bomb concealed in a box that was delivered to his office killed a close assistant of Chrysohoidis, who was unharmed.

A cartoon in Monday’s edition of the Kathimerini newspaper was downright macabre in a reference to a "haircut," financial jargon for the debt write-off that Greek debt holders might have to take. The image shows two headless men, spinal cords poking from neck stumps, on a park bench.

"We’re heading for a bigger haircut," one of the men says, reading from a newspaper. "Whatever," says a dog, also headless, at his feet.

Things are not all grim. While many businesses have closed, a few stalwarts of Athens night life were throbbing on Saturday night. One was Booze Cooperativa, where party-goers packed brightly colored chambers, caressing cocktails and ignoring the chess sets laid out on a long wooden table.

Another dash of zest and ambition, as well as uncomfortable timing, is the New Hotel, a flamboyant overhaul of an old hotel that opened in July after years of renovations. Two Brazilian designers, the Campana brothers, decorated some walls with recycled chair legs and other furniture fragments, others with bark cloth, and incorporated "evil eye" talismans into the design scheme.

Manager Dimitris Valyrakis said he had a strong "revenue management" team that aggressively pushes Internet sales and seeks to attract repeat visitors who like the artistry. Occupancy is 30 to 40 percent, and he estimated it will be another six months before the hotel’s financial footing is clear.

"I don’t think it’s so hard," Valyrakis said of the financial crisis, reflecting a view not widely heard at protests that Greeks need to shed spendthrift habits. "At some point, it’s good. Now they have to cut all these expenses."

Meanwhile, the crisis has its daily say. Work slowdowns held up some flights at the Athens international airport on Sunday, with one Olympic Air flight to Cairo taking off more than five hours late. According to one person on the flight, aggravated passengers stood up and shouted at cabin staff, and some irate Egyptian travelers declared, "It’s all your fault," to Greeks on the plane.