ATHENS, Greece – Greek tourist brochures make much of the fact that in ancient Greek, the word for “stranger” and the word for “guest” were the same: xenos. As modern Athens hosts these Olympics, organizers have found that in a post-September 11 world, it’s both impossible and imperative to unite the two concepts.

When a nation that prides itself on its hospitality hosts an international competition that could be the most tempting terrorist target around, it must treat every visitor as both a cherished guest and a suspicious stranger. And there’s just one word for that: tricky.

Week one of the Olympics went off without a major safety-related incident, but security is still on everyone’s mind. American athletes were advised by the U.S. Olympic committee not to wave too many flags or wear flag adorned clothing.

“We’re not the favorite kid in the world right now,” said Mike Moran, a former spokesperson for the U.S. Olympic Committee. But detectives running security for Mayor Bloomberg during his recent visit seem to have missed that memo, as most of them strolled around their hotel in “FDNY: Never Forgive, Never Forget” T-shirts.

The Athens Olympic Committee, ATHOC, allocated the largest Olympic security budget in history, about $1.5 billion, for the 2004 Games. As far back as 1996,when the Olympics were awarded to Athens, the IOC expressed concerns about security. That apprehension was magnified after the World Trade Center attack, and the Greek government responded by cracking down on domestic terrorist cell November 17.

Greece is also allowing NATO anti-terrorist experts and other foreign armed forces to patrol the country’s borders and its capital city during the Games. In addition, Greek marines, soldiers, and policemen are now ubiquitous in Athens. The president of ATHOC, Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalakis calls their efforts “the biggest contribution ever made by the Armed Forces at a time of peace in Greece.”

Eager to disprove those who questioned Athens’s security measures, ATHOC and city officials have made safety a top priority. The resulting conflict between hospitality and security is evident all over the city.

In the landmark Grande Bretagne hotel, a sign next to the X-ray machine thanks guests for understanding the need to check their belongings. At the entrance to the archery finals in the historic Panathenaic stadium, one set of volunteers shouted, “Welcome to the 2004 Olympic Games,” in Greek, French, and English. Another informed spectators they’d have to wait in a 20-minute line to have their bags X-rayed. And along with the armed guards roaming the city, volunteers manning information booths wear T-shirts that say, “City of Athens – May I help you?”

Occasionally, fear has overtaken certain venues. At the beginning of the Games, officials at the International Broadcasting Center in Maroussi confiscated what scanners identified as a possible explosive device – which turned out to be a pack of cookies. The same day, access to the Olympic Village was blocked while officials examined a suspicious bottle of aftershave in a journalist’s bag.

The highest-profile case of overzealous security occurred the week before the Games, when Mexican journalists filming the port of Piraeus were asked to stop taking pictures. They complied, but moved and resumed filming. They were arrested and two claimed to have been beaten by Coast Guard officers, an allegation they repeated on Greek TV, adding that they loved the Greek people and were excited to be here for the Olympics.

Deputy Mayor Theodore Skilakakis, when asked about what happened to the allegedly mistreated Mexicans, said last week, “These stories are a big deal for three days, then they’re over.”

Other intrepid Mexican journalists were not deterred by the incident. Four members of the Mexican press were arrested (then released), for filming around the military airport of Tatoi. A Mexican TV crew staged a robbery in the shopping district of Plaka to film reactions of passersby.

The threat of brutality from overzealous police seemed to be the last thing on the minds of enthusiastic spectators at the rowing finals, several of whom leapt over barriers to jump into the water and swim up to the American, Dutch, and Australian teams as they took their victory laps. Cheered on by the crowd, the swimmers were apprehended by smiling security guards. “Just get my bag, will you,” a Canadian troublemaker instructed his captors. “It has my passport in it.”

At ATHOC, officials are keeping their fingers crossed that the biggest security concern they’ll have to deal with are aquatically assertive fans and creative telejornalistas. But while these minor breaches of security are easily forgotten, the imperative to act simultaneously as host and guard threatens to plague every Olympic city well into the future.