By now you know the drill: the Greek language hides a comedy show in plain sight. Translate literally, and instead of words you get little theater sketches. Here’s the next round:
“Μου έπρηξε το συκώτι” (mou eprixé to sykóti).“He swelled up my liver.”No, it’s not a medical diagnosis. It’s how we describe someone who’s been nagging or annoying us to the point that one of our organs filed a complaint. Americans say “he got on my nerves.” Greeks skip the nerves and head straight for the liver, which in Greek culture is basically the VIP lounge of emotions.
“Πήρε ο κώλος του αέρα” (píre o kólos tou aéra).“His butt took air.”Don’t panic. This doesn’t mean he had beans for lunch. It means someone got too full of themselves, cocky, inflated with pride. A Greek mom will use it when her son buys a new scooter and suddenly thinks he’s Valentino Rossi.
“Χέσε μέσα Πολυχρόνη που δεν γίναμε ευζώνοι” (chése mésa Polyhróni pou den gíname evzóni).“Shit inside, Polychronis, since we didn’t become Evzones.”Imagine failing in life, and instead of quietly sighing, you sing this little ode to disappointment. Polychronis1, whoever he was, clearly did not make the cut.
“Έφαγε τα ψωμιά του” (éfage ta psomiá tou).“He ate his breads.”Figuratively: he’s reached the end of his time. The breads are finished, the bakery is closed, no more coupons left. A surprisingly cozy way to talk about death—like grandma just ran out of koulourakia.
“Μου έβαλε τα γυαλιά” (mou évvale ta gyaliá).“He put the glasses on me.”It doesn’t mean you got tricked into an eye exam. It means someone outperformed you, showed you up, proved you wrong. Imagine arguing with your neighbor about olive oil quality, and then he whips out a 1957 prize certificate from the Kalamata Agricultural Fair. Glasses firmly applied.
“Έκατσε στην μπανάνα” (ékatse stin banána).“He sat on the banana.”No monkeys involved. It means he fell into a trap, got fooled, slipped on life’s proverbial peel. The banana is symbolic of bad luck and gullibility—a Greek cousin of the cartoon pratfall.
“Τον πήρανε χαμπάρι” (ton pírane chambári).“They took him in notice.”They found him out, they caught on to what he was up to. Whether you’re sneaking past the kafeneio without buying coffee or hiding a second souvlaki from your wife, rest assured: they will take you in notice.
“Πες μου ίσια” (pes mou ísia).“Tell me straight.”But when a Greek says this, it’s not gentle. It’s the verbal equivalent of cornering you in the kitchen with crossed arms and raised eyebrows. It means: stop sugar-coating, don’t go around the olive grove, give me the unfiltered truth—τώρα.
“Έμεινε στα κρύα του λουτρού” (émeine sta krýa tou loutrou).“He was left in the cold of the bath.”In other words, abandoned mid-process, disappointed, suddenly left shivering without closure. It’s how you feel when the water heater cuts out just as you’ve shampooed your head, or when a bureaucrat tells you to come back tomorrow because the stamp guy is on break.
“Πήγε σαν το σκυλί στ’ αμπέλι” (píge san to skilí st’ ambéli).“He went like a dog in the vineyard.”He died miserably, without care or dignity. Brutal, yes, but also so Greek: even death gets compared to agriculture.
“Ξύνει τα νύχια του για καυγά” (xýnei ta nýchia tou gia kavgá).“He scratches his nails for a fight.”It paints the picture of someone itching—literally—for conflict. He’s sharpening his claws like a cat ready to pounce. If a Greek says this about you, it doesn’t mean you need a manicure. It means you’re about five minutes away from arguing about football, politics, or whose olive oil really deserves the prize.
