Friday, April 25, 2014

UNORTHODOX EASTER



I and my Greek-born wife Betty have been in Athens many times for Orthodox Easter but we have never been on the Aegean island of Samos for the great festival. This year we thought we would take our summer trip to Samos early and on the Monday before Easter we embarked on the venerable (1974 vintage) Ro-Ro car ferry from Piraeus bound for Karlovasi in Samos. The previous ferry (a 1968 vintage converted Japanese freighter) had finally been pensioned off and although the European Express is also elderly and not very smart, it got us there in the scheduled 12 hours as we lazed in our cabin. The crew were unsurprisingly a little distant, but so would we all be if we had not been properly paid for 8 months and only kept going by occasional employer subventions in the dire ongoing Greek/EU crisis.


The ferry was packed with passengers as in Greece many return to their family birthplace at Easter like so many instinct-driven salmon – the Samiot diaspora was returning to its ancestral home, a scene repeated throughout rural Greece. Our Karlovasi friends gave us a warm welcome (chicken soup at 2am and an impeccably tidy house) and we awaited the onset of Easter. Like all of Europe religious observance is fitful in Greece but the priesthood maintains the unaltered Easter Liturgy, starting on Monday, chanting the words rather monotonously from the Psalms and the Gospels as did the Byzantines.  Indeed on Easter Sunday itself they sing the widely used Liturgy of St John Chrysostom from the 5th Century.


Most Greeks at least observe Easter to some degree – not eating meat during Great Week, but not actually fasting even on Good Friday. A number pop into their local church and light a candle, kissing the icons and admiring the flower-bedecked biers awaiting the body of Christ. On Good Friday itself the atmosphere is sorrowful with a lone church bell tolling dolefully all day. Much more impressive is the Good Friday Epitaphion, the funeral procession of Christ; in Karlovasi 4 churches carried their finely decorated biers through the streets, led by the local brass band playing solemn music and followed by clergy in their spectacular robes, icons, flags and crosses much in evidence. About 500 locals followed the biers slowly in the dark and the proceedings end with a short service at the war memorial. All generations partake in this ceremony but quite a few resolutely ignore it.


On Easter Saturday the observant fast until midnight but I confess to eating delicious octopus and squid and drinking cold local white wine, but then I am beyond redemption – and it was our 45th wedding anniversary too! The Easter Saturday service used to be well organised, but organisation is not Greece’s strongest suit these days. What should happen is that the populace assemble quietly in the dark in front of a church – we were at the Panayia Cathedral – carrying decorative unlit candles with wind covers. At midnight the priest carries out a lone candle and cries “Christos Anesti” (Christ is Risen): he passes on the supposedly “divine” light to all the assembled who light their candles, making a suddenly delightful illuminated picture, and it is good luck to take the candle back to their houses unextinguished. For days the Paschal Greeting is repeated “Christos Anesti” answered with “Alithos Anesti” (Surely He has Risen).


Sadly in Karlovasi, the script went agley: various members of the congregation emerged well before midnight with lighted candles and passed the light around. A cacophony of fireworks broke out prematurely so that when the priest did eventually appear his words were drowned by bangers, fizzers and rockets. The Greeks don’t really do dignity. Another tradition perhaps fading is the breaking of the fast after midnight by eating mayiritsa, a nourishing soup made of chopped lamb’s lungs and “lights” on a rice base. Many ladies dislike handling these offally ingredients and we had to make do with a beef and rice soup, perfectly palatable but not quite the real thing.


Easter Sunday is given up to feasting. Provisions have been stocked up and kebabs prepared but left untouched all week. Red-coloured eggs are boiled. With our ever-kind and energetic neighbours Theofilaktos and Christina, we had organised a barbecue, attended by 11, on tables set out on the Painted Courtyard (which I had written about on the Blog on 5.11.13). The Courtyard was looking well – pansies tumbling from hanging baskets, the red blooms of dipladenia, wild strawberries’ first ripening, fragrant hybrid lemon-and-thyme, Busy Lizzies in profusion, winter basil and a whole selection of cottage garden comestibles – potatoes, chili, lettuce, rocket and tomatoes all adding to last year’s goodies. 


The BBQ was stoked up with wood for its aroma and charcoal for heat and slowly the meat revolved on the spit, lamb, goat and pork, to be supplemented by piping hot garnished potatoes and grilled peppers. No guest came empty-handed – George with home-brewed wine and bottles of beer, Michaelis and Maya brought goat and chocolate cake, not to mention their splendid wines, but all took along something. We started at 12noon and continued convivially and tastily until 1am with many a toast, joke and uncontroversial discussion. The party was a great success.


I wish I could say that it all ended happily, but it was not to be. We were tidying up and leaving, when my lovely dynamic Betty returned to the Courtyard to say her final thank-yous to Theo and Christina. She slipped on the surface, earlier rain-watered, and could not get up. We called an ambulance and eventually at 2am she was driven the 25 miles or so to the hospital at Vathi. She had cracked a bone above her knee. Her fall was exactly on the spot where an Evil Eye was painted on the floor, supposedly to ward off evil spirits, but it had failed on this occasion. I am glad to report that yesterday Betty had an op to mend her leg and all seems to have gone well, and we hope she will be home next week: but she may not be walking properly for at least a month. Such undeserved bad luck!


SMD
25.04.14
Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2014

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