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distribution centers evidenced by the many migrants and Roma moving in and out of
them with boxes and bags of goods, some loading cars and trucks. When I entered one I
found samples of the purses sold on streets, many knickknacks and house wares sold at
farmer’s markets and at some discount stores, etc., with bulk pricing indicated per IOO
units. As I continued my walk the Chinese stores and neoclassical buildings became
more infrequent. Eventually Leoforos Pireos came to Petrou Ralli Street and I realized I
might be in trouble.
Walking Petrou Ralli Street was like descending into a nightmare. The street
seemed to take me deeper and deeper into social, political, and moral decay: the heart of a
failing city. The elevated overpass leading away from Leoforos Pireos overlooked a
sprawling mass of grey block apartments surrounding a large grey school: the bars over
the broken windows, graffiti covered walls, and crumbling exterior resembling a prison
more than a place of education - in session, no less. Walking along the broken sidewalk
I passed chop shops standing alongside demolished factories, a Delta corporation sorting
site (apparently closed as the company was in the midst of a price-fixing scandal), two
army bases, government administration center, sprawling city bus depot, a dilapidated
hospital in worse condition than the aforementioned school, and a seemingly abandoned
industrial complex in and out of which a steady stream of African and Middle Easterners
were moving. I was struck by the fact that the Greek state and what can be considered its
antithesis - the underground economy of foreign people, goods, and ideas - were
operating unimpeded side-by-side. The street seemed to reflect the current failings of the
city and the state. With official structures unsuccessfully attending to core needs of