Daily life on a greek island through the eyes of a local-alien, still 'foreign' even after more than 40 years residence. This 'foreigner' is a local-KIWI-alien so there is a New Zealand flavour to my writing. Photo above is the tranquil view from Pukehina Beach, Bay of Plenty, New Zealand.
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Kronia Polla, Kali Kronia
All the best for 2022
Stay healthy, enjoy life
I've been wishing everyone a happy 2020. Elderly moment!
Hell, we don't want to do that one again
As usual there are a bunch of traditions, most of which we still observe. They're all to bring good luck in the coming year. This are what we do in our family and local area. They differ all over the country.
1. Breaking a pomegranite at the front door. If we can find a pomegranite at this time of the year. We break ours at our front gate so the seeds and mess are outside on the road. Our daughter breaks hers at the front door. Nice mess to clean up on New Years morning.
2. Vasilopita. A St Basil's cake or a loaf of bread with a lucky coin. We have a cake on New Years Eve, bread at New Years lunch and then another family cake later on. These cakes or sweet breads are cut at every school, club and work place and the actual ceremony of cutting the cake and handing it around might not take place till February.
The lucky coin used to be put under the icons on the wall and used to buy incense. Probably still is in small villages. That died out in our family when m-in-law passed away.
The first slice of cake is for the Virgin Mary, the second for the house and land or the crops, the next for the oldest in the family and so on down the line. Everyone digs through their slice looking for the lucky coin and if we haven't found it by the time we've got through all the family members then we'll cut a piece for distant relatives too, or the dog.
3. Playing cards, making bets and buying a lottery ticket. Lucky games are fine, as long as you win! We all played cards around Yiayias big kitchen table with the kids. She had a bulging purse with low value coins with which we all placed bets . Usually it was the card game '21'.
Meanwhile down the road on an empty plot serious bet-ters would gather to throw coins, heads or tails, and huge amounts of money were won or lost. Men would gather from all over the island. I think that tradition has died out too, in that place anyway. We usually buy a national lottery ticket just before New Year. We're still waiting for a win.
One year down in Crete we played Gin Rummy with Navy friends till dawn. It was the only time I ever won. The money wasn't much but the thrill was .
4. Fireworks? With a big question mark. They have been banned this year so crowds don't gather but I can't see why our Mayor doesn't give us a show. They are set off from one of the car ferries in the bay and we all 'oooh and ahhh' from our balconies. He hasn't put on a show for several years.
Church bells used to peal joyously at midnight, and boats blasted their hooters but we haven't heard either in the last two years. Last year it was quiet and dark in our old neighbourhood where we go to our daughter's to see in the New Year. The only celebrations were on TV and from young Jamie who entered the house with an old key and banged us all on the head.
5. First Footing. Just before midnight the luckiest in the family goes outside and is the first person to enter the house bringing luck for the New Year, right foot first. It's usually the youngest. And he/she is armed with that big key though why he has to bang us all on the head I'm not sure.
6. New Years carolling. Once again on New Years eve the kids go from house to house singing the one traditional carol. As at Xmas they bring good luck to the house and expect a small coin in return or a much larger amount if they are kin or close neighbours or friends.
Kali Kronia
Happy New Year
Some of the traditions our Greek family have have carried on over the years at Christmas
1. Caroling. On Christmas Eve in the morning bands of children will bang on your door and ask 'can we sing to you'. To which you always answer yes unless you're a nasty grinch. The children enter and sing the carol, the one carol, that is sung on Xmas Eve. To which you answer with a 'and here's to next year' and a coin or two. If they're godchildren, next door neighbours or your own cherub then it will be far more than just a few coins.
My traditional person always looks eagerly for these kids because he says it brings good luck to the house in the coming year. In our present house up in the hills there are no neighbourhood children and we have to bribe a now teenage grandchild to come and bring us good luck.
2. Decorating a ship instead of a tree. Most households now put up the western tree but it is far more greek to decorate a small boat or kaikï (fishing boat). Downtown the Mayor usually does both but I haven't noticed either this year. Maybe there is something covered in lights which only show up at night. The harbour wasn't at all festive when I went down to the chemist this morning.
3. Christopsomo. The Christ bread which is cut on Christmas day. This is a large loaf of, often, homemade bread with a braid of dough on top forming a cross and a walnut in the middle. Ours is cut before the family Christmas day lunch. The traditional head of our household draws the sign of the cross over the bread with the big knife and then cuts big slices and hands them round the table. At New Years the bread will have a lucky coin in it.
4. Presents should be opened on New Years Day and not on Christmas day. Here it is Saint Basil, whose feast is on January 1st, who brings the gifts and not Saint Nick. My kids, being cross cultural thought they should have presents from both. Mother (ie me) decided that St Nick was the bringer of toys and that was that.
6. You must bake piles and piles of Christmas cookies, so says my traditional person who has taken over the baking. After 40 years of a foreigner baking his biscuits he has decided that only he can make them the way his mother did. Go for it says me.
The cookies (biscuits) are melomakarouna, made with honey and oil, orange juice and walnuts and kourabiethes made with lots of preferably (but not preferably for me) sheeps butter and almonds.
We make piles of them every year so anyone entering the house can be offered one or two on a plate with a glass of raki or whisky. Then we give packets of them away to friends and neighbours and also to anyone who has had a loss in the family. During the first year of mourning you are not supposed to make, or offer, sweet biscuits and you are not allowed to dye red eggs at easter.
So, folks that's some of the traditions which we carry on here. Of course in the cities things have changed and traditions are not followed to the letter. The younger generation looks on it all a bit differently too and they are more likely to follow the western traditions. But, in our house we follow the greek rules.
Some goodies I've made for the festive season. Not traditional and some won't be made again
The family that runs together stays together .
Porosea is an annual, mostly, multi sporting event. My grandchildren have all run, swum and biked in years gone by.
This October one part of our extended family took part, mother, father and daughters. Son was studying in Athens.
Xmas cards are written. The tree and boxes of decorations have come down from the store room.
Where is that 'stuff' that was removed from K's shed to make way for the wine?
Greek priorities in November. First comes the fresh olive oil but then it's playtime
Bringing home the wine
Bringing home the wine
We shall come rejoicing
Bringing home the wine.
Autumn flowers are rather few and far between
It was now obvious that the war would soon be over, so we had no desire to do many more raids, but it was equally obvious that our superiors were going to force the Germans into submission as soon as they could. We learned that the people on Rhodes were close to starvation and that the Red Cross had landed a large number of relief parcels of food for them. These, we were told, had been taken by the Germans, which prompted our Army Commander to send General Wagner a signal that his actions had been noted and if he did not feed the poulation he would be classified as a war criminal and tried for his crimes.
We landed patrols on Rhodes which caused a lot of damage if the black smoke was any indication. That night we picked up 33 Greeks and 24 Germans and rendezvoused with the destroyer Catterick. Everywhere else the Armistice had been signed so we were careful not to be the last casualities in the war in Europe.
The destroyer Kimberley came into Symi harbour with German General Wagner and his staff aboard. They were being brought to Symi to sign an armistice for the cessation of hostilities in the Aegean. We embarked the Germans and I thought they wouldn't appreciate having their photos taken so lining up my camera I clicked the shutter as they looked sullenly seawards. It was a beauty, even showing the duelling scars down the cheeks of one of the staff officers. When the signing was complete we returned them to the Kimberley.
The next day we left for Rhodes. Archbishop Damaskinos who was acting Regent of Greece arrived to look the place over. With the Greek National Guard in uniform and our guard of honour it was a splendid occasion.
Next day my relief arrived and with very mixed feelings I handed the ML over to Lieutenant Dyer. I embarked on Kimberley to have the smoothest trip ever to Alexandria.
It was always the same everytime I came back to Egypt and tasted of the good life ashore. I would get gyppo tummy which would last for three or four days before I adjusted. Then it was no holds barred. One of our amusements was to stand on the side of the road and when a self-important Pasha was driven past in his latest American car, to jump into the roadway shouting 'taxi, taxi'. We never got a lift except for our ego.
Several of us waiting for transport home took a few days leave and booked in a pension in Cairo. It was too hot for comfort so we didn't move too far afield. Staying at the same place was a very red faced Pukka Sahib. We were having dinner at night when the waiter brought him rice for sweet. His face turned purple and he turned on the poor fellow. 'Coolie food. Take the damn stuff away'.
Relaxing in the bar of the Union club one evening a soft-footed steward gently told me I was wanted on the phone. Fearing that I was being recalled for service I reluctantly picked up the receiver to find it was cousin Hester returning from the wilds of Naxos to stir up official help for her cause. That was the finish of any peace and quiet for me. In no time I was calling on all the people she thought would pull strings on her behalf and she was soon getting her own way as she had already softened them up on her first visit. I never learned if the worthy Bishop of Jerusalem had had second thoughts but almost overnight the whole situation changed. She must have decided that the Greek islanders would receive sufficient assistance and her services would be better utilised elsewhere. She completely abandoned them to take the Arabs of the Hadramut to her bosom. In a few days she was gone and life returned to normal"
And that was the end of the Greek adventure. My father came back to Greece several times when we were living in Piraeus and then in Crete. He enjoyed the experience, living like a greek, trying out his greek words, eating, drinking and having siestas with his half-greek family. But he would have been happy to travel elsewhere and see the rest of the world. It was my mother, enthralled by the history and ancient ruins that dragged him back. One of her well known sayings was 'see Delphi and die'.
She managed to visit Delphi* twice so she died happy.
*Delphi - is known here as the navel of the world. The ruins on the side of Mount Parnassus are from around 2,000 BC. It is the site of the Oracle Pythia, famous throughout the classical world for her enigmatic predicitons. The ruins include a Treasury, temples, theatre and stadium. The site has a magnificent view of a sea of shimmering silver olive trees.
*Harry Creasy. My father was only in his early twenties when he became Captain of the Motor Launch which saw action all over the Mediterranean. The Greek Islands were only part of the story.
*Cousin Hester Viney. My cousin Jenny googled Hester and found a little about her and even a photo. Isn't that amazing. You can even google cousin Hester, circa 1925, and come upon pages of information. She wrote 'The Book of Breastfeeding' and seems to have given lectures far and wide on Motherhood and Public Health, besides taking her message to far away places and diverse peoples.
Greek tales no. 2
"When we were not doing patrols or landing raiding parties we visited the various islands to 'show the flag' and create goodwill. The Second Officer and I would leave the Coxswain in charge, hire some donkeys and visited the villages up in the hills. In Mykonos we had a most heart warming reception. We went to three villages, visited a dozen or so houses with the Mayor and the inevitable Greek who had spent some of his life in the US and could remember enough english to be understood. We gave speeches, ate, drank and were merry, got kissed by countless children and a very beared priest who reeked of garlic. Unfortunately in the excitement the donkeys had been taken away, so we had to walk miles back to the harbour. Hours later we limped painfully aboard the ML , mouths as dry as a chip but feeling as though our duty had been nobly done.
The Aegean islands are steeped in history and mythology. The island of Delos still had an air of mystery which seemed to set it apart. Milos was renowned for its Venus, Rhodes once had its Colossus and we used to pass a headland which was marked on the chart 'Homer reputed buried here'. Lemnos further north had been well known to the Gallipoli campaigners and is revered as the burial place of poet Rupert Brooke.
When we moved to Naxos I heard that an english woman had recently arrived, gathered up an escort of donkeys and guides to transport all her equipment and taken to the villages in the hills. Without showing too much enthusiasm and with careful questioning, my suspicions were confirmed. Cousin Hester had apparently been turned down by the Bishop of Jerusalem but had suggested to UNRRA that her ministrations were required for the poor and needy in Greece. They had welcomed her warmly and given her passage to Alexandria where she soon had everyone dancing attendance on her. She had organised all her medical requirements and sailed in a caique from place to place until she and her band slipped, unnoticed by the Greek authorities, into the Greek islands. I didn't feel like an expedition by donkey up into the hills to renew acquaintance, so we headed back to base.
By mid-March the weather was getting warmer and the seas less stormy. We were based on Symi doing patrols, checking caiques and landing raiding parties on Kos, Leros, Rhodes and other occupied territories. On 13th April we were told Turkey had entered the war against Germany so it was now in order for us to hug the Turkish coast to avoid the Germans. Better still we could make use of the Turkish ports. It was always frustrating travelling up the coast at night to see all the lights blazing from the towns and villages on the way while we had to maintain a black-out both at sea and ashore. We were ordered to go to Marmaris to make contact with the Turks and report how they reacted to us.
As we neared the entrance we were a little apprehensive, as maybe the locals hadn't been told they were our allies and might not welcome us. We knew there was a Naval Signals station on one of the headlands so we hoisted a few international signals to let them know we were friendly and having located their base did some flashing with a lamp. It must have been their morning siesta because we got no response for about half an hour. Then someone must have spotted us as signals went flying up the flagstaff. A Turkish soldier appeared at the entrance to the fort waving his arms with semaphore flags as if he had a hive of bees around him. Nothing made any sense to us so we rang engines for slow ahead and with all lookouts watching for trouble from the fort we made for the entrance to the bay. All was quiet as we moved out of range and increased speed to close the jetty off the beach. We tied up alongside a caique but for all the notice that was taken of us we might have been there every day of the week. As expected there were some English speaking Turks but no-one seemed interested in us so we bought some boxes of Turkish delight and eggs and tied up for the night alongside the destroyer Active which had arrived after us. Next morning , in an atmosphere of anti-climax, we left for Symi, keeping a watchful eye on the fort as we went out.
After some leave in the classical atmosphere of Athens we returned to Syros where we learnt that cousin Hester was still in Naxos. A caique going to the island next day took a parcel and a note offering my regrets at once again having missed seeing her.
Our next duty was to go to the island of Patmos where some 160 Italians had shown the white flag and had to be moved. We took a caique with us as there were too many prisoners for us to handle on the ML. She could only do 5 knots so we passed her a towline and got her speed up to eight. Unfortunately, being slowed down in this way upset our timing and we had to go past the German guns on Leros and Kos in daylight which was rather a hazard. But we passed without incident. We found that the Italians were not on Patmos but on Lipsos which meant a return journey of about five miles close under the guns of Leros. We loaded all the prisoners into the caique 'Pepina', waited till dark and towed them back to Patmos. Next day we were taken up to the top of the hill to see the Monastery built to commemorate St Paul's sojourn in a nearby cave. On the way back to Symi we noticed 'Pepina' with her cargo of Italians. The caique was very low in the water and as the weather was worsening we took her in tow again, crawling back to Symi with a very miserable band of seasick Italians."
NB
Unfortunately I know little about cousin Hester. She was famous in our household for being another eccentric in the family tree, the one who trekked into the dark depths of a greek island on a donkey in the middle of a world war to help the poor. I wonder what the greek villagers thought of her.
