My own unphilosophical, untheological, unecological and secret Greek Easter

About the Greek Orthodox Easter and an Orthodox Easter in general you can find loads of info and personal accounts just about anywhere in the press, in books, on the net even in the National Geographic and the French ‘Geo’. Because I live in a remote island village (the epitome of the so-called ‘authenticity‘), oh, readers, don’t expect me to tell you about it. This is a task young apprentice TV reporters are usually given to do. That’s not me. Zap off and type “Greek+Easter” in Google images.

My own Easter in Ikaria :

1) Color: lush green, sometimes orgiastic vegetation (doesn’t hold too long -sniff) with brown patches of freshly ploughed gardens and vineyards.

2) Sound: (a) nasal psalms from the church loudspeakers and both on TV and the radio the voice of our “super saint” (*Ayatolah* ) Archibishop Christodoulos performing “the top of the pop(e)s”. (b) “skyladika” music from every cafe and ouzo joint, (c) very loud explosions of firecrackers, and finally (d) delighful bass chat-chat of old people and sharp shouts of children -visitors from the city.

3) Images: (a) red meat (heads of lamps with the tongues sticking out, guts, slices of fat, darker red liver e.t.c.) (b) flowers, countless flowers to decorate the epitaph (the portable simulation of the “grave” of Jesus)…

… ENOUGH

My own personal Easter is …the visitors’ clothes !
I’m looking at them, in fact I’m devouring them, I imagine myself wearing them. I even went to the beach to spy on the visitors and see what swimsuits are in fashion this season. I will go to church tonight and tomorrow just to see the outfits and the looks. I’ll break my profile and dare ask a few friends “Where did you buy that?” and “How much?”. Most of all I’ll admire the shoes and the hairstyles. I’ll pretend I attend the mess but actually I’ll be trying to guess my neigbour’s perfume or after-shave brand. I’ll be looking at men and wishing wishes and (who me? the “experienced” cosmo?) blush and feel shy.

That’s me. That’s my Easter. I’m getting rough hewn here -village girl. Yet I know that when I go for a short shopping visit in Athens next month and while I’ll be trying on the wonderful shoes, I’ll be thinking of my flower pots and my vegetable garden. I’ll also be worrying about who’s going to remind my old neighbours to take their pills. It seems I am the only one who’s used to depending on a watch in my neighborhood.

That’s my Easter in Ikaria.

I wish everybody, believers or not, Christians or not
KALI ANASTASSI (ΚΑΛΗ ΑΝΑΣΤΑΣΗ), which btw literally means…

…*HAVE A NICE RESURRECTION* !!!

Tags: πάσχα, κόκινα-αυγά, easter, red-eggs, what-it-takes, ikaria, ικαρία | Edit Tags Friday April 21, 2006 – 01:00pm (PDT) Edit | Delete

Next Post: “My Eggs…”, oh no, wrong… “Some Eggs of mine…”, wrong again Previous Post: “Foret de Bouconne” ? What does this have to do with Ikaria?

• simon
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Hi Eleni, just to let you know our swallows arrived here in Northern England today; Jude and I saw them on our trail in the hills, a little party of six, and we greeted them with thoughts of you.

Friday April 21, 2006 – 11:25pm (BST) Remove Comment

• Jude
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Yes, and we found a fairy too…Either Tragos or I will post the picture on flickr. We commented that you would love it. Kalo Pascha.

Saturday April 22, 2006 – 12:02am (BST) Remove Comment

• elle
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swallows are messangers; there are so many Greek folk verses about them asked to carry messages of love and affection to distant lands. You may understand ’swallow-ish’ because they were carrying a msg from me; this is why you thought of me.
(I must stop now because the council of the senior USDA are waiting for an answer in their comment on the previous entry.)
* * * *

Saturday April 22, 2006 – 04:04am (PDT)