Adventures, Fun & Attitude: Selected grams from Ikaria ♥ Part 3 ➕


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Hello readers!
This is obviously the third part of the second part and the first part. But in this post there is a big [[]]! Because as I was browsing through Instagram to choose some last pictures from Ikaria to show you, I looked again at a picture I had added in PART 1 and I realised that it wasn’t just one random holiday snaphot. More pictures followed and all of them belonged to a story – a story written in a blog!
But first things first. Take a look at my last 31 selected grams from Ikaria and then scroll down to read my English translation of Virginia’s «Sobre una mujer sola en una playa». As you will see in the end, I have reasons to cherish very strong personal feelings about it. But far besides that, what matters more is that I find her adventure and more importantly the way she describes her adventure the best to this moment, most edgy and wonderfully dramatic example of the attitude I’ve spoken about in Part 2:

«Enjoy and respect. This is the new DIY generation who are not looking for ready-made things but for the true experience, for whatever that takes.»

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Note: I have displayed the pictures randomly and democratically all same size. None of them (including the ones inside the Virginia’s story) have been downloaded but embedded into this post directly from the source. All rights reserved by the respective owners © 2012-2017
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Αν δεν κοιτάς εκει που θες να πας, θα πας εκει που κοιτάςΗ Έλλη χαμένη στην ΙκαρίαΤι να πειςΣεϋχέλλες ΙκαρίαParadise islandΣτο φαράγγι!!!!Take me back - 8.9.17 - secret νας IκαρίαChilling and reading ξεμαλλιασμενη ας χελλDancing the IkariotikosUnknown woman in a panigiriOrange sky in Nas IkariaIs this even real life?'Then I was young and unafraid. And dreams were made and used and wasted'Hot like the sun, Wet like the rain, Green like the leaves, Life is a game.le chien etait adorable...Because sometimes lying under trees and walking barefoot on the earth is the most spiritual thing you could ever do in your life. To walk in nature is to witness a thousand miraclesSwam some more, climbed up rocks and claimed them as our ownJai Guru Deva Om'I was overlooking the heights and I felt somewhere in between...'Ikaria island summerIkaria-kerame CityRevolution starts from each of usMy bedroom - Feels like home - Gypsy hearts forever - Exoria stin ikariaΙκαριες - Rηξικελευθες πτησειςAmphitrite in Kambos, Ikariaνιώστε το βράχο - IkariaThe Cave in Seychelles beach, IkariaWaking up in Manganitis, IkariaO TarzanAnd the living is easy in IkariaAlceste in Ikaria

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😌 😌 😌
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«Sobre una mujer sola en una playa»
(About a woman alone on a beach)

«Later that evening, we were sitting there and I could hear a church bell from the Orthodox church around the corner. My ear followed the sound there and back, there and back, my eye trailing the distance to the church in the dark. I asked my aunt if she was awake. She stirred in her chair and said yes, she was. I said, how did you make it so long. She asked what I meant. I said, there are so many years. How can you be alone so long. She said she didn’t know.»
[Jesse Ball, How to Make a Fire and Why]

La aurora de los dedos de rosa, diria Homero

«Last year with Adrián we decided to take a trip. He asked me where I wanted to go, and I told him that for some time I had in my thoughts the island of Ikaría. He wondered why. I do not know, I told him. He asked me again: what is there? Nothing, I said. It is an island where there is nothing. He told me, that’s an answer.»

«He asked me again: what is there? Nothing, I said. It is an island where there is nothing. He told me, that’s an answer.»

Ese dia fue muy largo y muy dificil y muy hermoso y a la noche dormi adentro de un mausoleo en un cementerio a unos metros de la playa

«There was a turning point in the trip and it was the day of the monopati. By then I already had severely infected soles of the feet. I think about the precise moment, a few days before, in which the blisters that almost completely covered the metatarsals broke and I still get goosebumps. I remember it with my head but I also remember it more with my body, it was a burning like I had never felt before, I felt it break, tear. And if walking most of the day with a heavy backpack on my back, sleeping little and feeding mainly on the figs and grapes that we found on the way, it was already difficult, every step I took with the blisters open and beginning to become infected was a torture.»

Aυτά τα δέντρα δε βολεύονται με λιγότερο ουρανό...

«There was a turning point in the trip and it was the day of the monopati.»

«We spent the night in a forest on the outskirts of Raches and the next morning we started walking very early. In the course of the day we had to descend an altitude of nine hundred meters extended along twenty kilometers by mountain road and reach the coastal town of Karkinagri, at the south-western end of the island. We had no choice. Between Raches and Karkinagri there was absolutely nothing, no food, no water, no shelter, no firm terrain to camp, only a narrow monopati that descended sinuously and abruptly down the mountain.»

El punto mas alto, justo antes de encontrar el monopati

«The first challenge was to find the mentioned monopati. The map of Ikaría that we had pointed out as villages what we, upon arriving, discovered that they were only scattered houses, many of them abandoned (one night we camped inside one, it was the night that I really thought I was going to die, that until then everything had arrived, but that is another story).»

El bosque de espinos

«After walking for a few hours we arrived at what we hoped would be a town, where we expected to replenish our water and ask for directions for the rest of the way, but all we found was a half-demolished farm in which a very old man milked a goat. He approached us with the wooden bucket full of warm, steaming, perfumed milk. The milk had a pregnant smell, cloying, a bit repulsive. I was dying to try it, I felt that my body was asking for it while the man told us that in his youth he had been a sailor and had been in Buenos Aires. French fries, he said in Spanish. His dogs barked at us with fury. We asked him about the monopati and he indicated where to go.»

La pequena iglesia de San Isidoro, en medio de la montana

«Later we heard voices and followed them and in the middle of the forest we found a neat land with an orchard and a house made of a container. Under a tree a group of men and women talked and worked. We asked them about the monopati and as Greeks as they were, they invited to come in, unconditional hospitality is practiced even in the depths of the forest, especially there (if a Greek refuses philoxenia to a stranger in the middle of the forest and there is no one to witness it, do the Erynias overwhelm him?). They served us a strong and delicious coffee (we had not had coffee for days, we had not done many things for days, like bathing) and they invited us with figs from their garden dried in the sun.»

Un claro en el monopati

«The owner of the house, about forty or forty-five years old, had grown tired of life in Athens and had exchanged it for that rectangle of land on which he lived most of the year, growing his own food and reading the classics, receiving friends during the summer. He was a serious man, serene, a man who spoke slowly, beautifully. The beautiful Greeks are truly beautiful, slender and proud, with marked features and deep wrinkles of expression. Beside him, Adrian, with his blond curls and his upturned nose and his reckless speech, looked like a teenager.»

A mitad de camino entre Karkinagri y Manganitis

«We continue advancing and at the highest point of the mountain, in the middle of a thorny forest, an enchanted forest, the most beautiful I saw, we found a tiny church and sitting at the door a shaggy man, the caretaker. Hour after hour and day after day he would sit there, alone, in silence. We asked him about the monopati. He showed us the way. He himself is walking up and down on it every several weeks to get provisions from the town. We were reassured by this concrete reference that the monopati existed and it was not far away.»

El desayuno en la taberna de Manganitis

«Finally we found it and the descent was slow and difficult. My feet were in deplorable condition, I felt the stockings alternately wet and stiff, as blood and pus sprouted and dried. We walked slower and slower, and Adrian became impatient. He advanced alone and he waited for me later, feeling solicitous and confused. We got lost several times. The monopati at times became so narrow that it was easy to mistake it with openings that appeared naturally among the vegetation. Several times we took the wrong direction. We opened and closed gates. We climbed trees and stones. We crossed a dry river in a valley.»

«It had been a difficult day for two people who knew little of each other, who began to glimpse with a mixture of rejection and compassion into the miseries of the other and to remember their own miseries, those that one tends to forget when there is no witness around, when conveniences and routines camouflage them a bit.»

La playa de Manganitis al atardecer donde la mujer y yo nos acompanamos un rato (en el momento exacto en que la foto fue sacada)

«Around four in the afternoon we arrived at the town. We hated it immediately. Ikaría does not receive too many tourists, but the few that were there were there. We ate something quickly and decided to continue on our way and spend the night in [Manganitis], a nearby town. We resumed the march in silence. It had been a difficult day for two people who knew little of each other, who began to glimpse with a mixture of rejection and compassion into the miseries of the other and to remember their own miseries, those that one tends to forget when there is no witness around, when conveniences and routines camouflage them a bit.»

La playa de Manganitis al amanecer, despues de la noche en el mausoleo

«We arrived at [Manganitis] at sunset, and the place was a dream. A tiny village, quiet, no more than fifteen houses. A warm tavern in the shade of a vine. A bay of white stones, turquoise waters. A small church and a cemetery near the edge of the sea (where we would spend the night, sleeping in one of the mausoleums between candles and coffins, but that’s another story). A group of men and women swam naked. Adrian also undressed and got into the water. I sat on the still warm stones of the shore and soaked my feet. The salt water washed my blood and the pain worsened first and then it started to ease up a bit. The group of bathers left and the beach was deserted.»

Χρόνια πολλά Ελλάδα

«It was almost dark when a woman in her fifties appeared. Adrian had swum away, and we seemed to be alone on that silent beach at the end of the world. She took off her clothes and got into the water. She swam for a long time and then came back to the shore and wrapped herself in a towel and stayed there, looking at the water until it was completely dark. Then she got dressed, took her things and left.»

Manganitis desde la altura, camino a Seychelles

«All this preamble is to say that last night I thought about that woman. Many times, I think about that woman, and last night was one of those times. I was in bed and was cold (because the days are warm and sunny, but still cool at night) and I began to rub my arms and legs with my hands to warm me up. And I do not know why that gesture made me suddenly feel very aware that I am alone. That I brought myself to this bed in the house of strangers in a city in another hemisphere and I am responsible for giving me heat, I am both the injured foot and the salty sea that heals, the woman alone and the woman alone who looks at the woman alone.»

TEXT: ΤΡΕΙΣ ΜΗΝΕΣ: «Sobre una mujer sola en una playa»
PICTURES: Virginia Rech on Instagram
Virginia Rech on Instagram

** «Monopati» («μονοπάτι» in Greek) = footpath, a more or less narrow trail usually across nature or rural land.

*** There is a slight confusion with placenames. To all evidence the final scene of the story takes place in «Trapalou» instead of «Manganitis» which is a relatively large village located much further to the east.

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AFTERWORD:
Was it I the other woman alone? The woman alone who was looked at by another woman alone in that cut-offMy Ikaria book cover by Eleni Ikanou on Flickr place and moment? Yes, perhaps it was I. I turned fifty last year. And as often as always I like to swim in remote, quiet places at dusk. Thank you Virginia. All Virginias of this world, thank you!!!

So long and take care
Eleni

 

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The little house in the desert


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………The place ^^’
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On the wuthering heights of Ikaria 305 by Eleni Ikanou on Flickrmount Atheraς in the center of a sandy plateau surrounded by windswept round boulders lies a tiny cube-like building with a chimney on its flat roof. This is «To Spitaki tis Mamis» (the little house of the midwife), or «Saint Panteleimon Mountain Refuge», as the marble plate in the wall next to the door says. Built by a kind woman in 1960 for the benefit of all mountain walkers, Spitaki tis Mamis, despite its miniature size, is a mountain shelter properly speaking, not associated to a church or mountain chapel, as it is usual in Greece, but built hiking-wise at important crossroads in a location where a hiker cannot possibly miss. This makes Spitaki tis Mamis, if not the oldest, undoubtedly one of the oldest mountain shelters in the Aegean islands. With my own ears I have heard about the lives it has saved through the years. On the chimney there was a fog bell to guide lost souls in the mountain and inside, as if by a magic hand, it was always provided with firewood, cooking pots, lamps and lamp oil, coffee, sugar, rice etc.
It was a place that wrote history.
However and in spite of all that, in the course of events and new road building in the 1990s Spitaki tis Mamis was forgotten and fell in oblivion. As a result, today -57 years after it was built- it’s in very bad shape: cracked walls, no door and window and a roof almost ready to fall in.

………The project ^^’
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Last month, answering Announcement by OPS Ikarias on Google+: 'We are in the pleasant position to announce that our request to the Municipality of Ikaria to grant permission to repair on our own expences and volunteer work the derelict mountain shelter to a request made by several local associations, Spitaki tis Mamis was declared by the Town Council as a cultural monument – standing reminder of the times when there were no roads and cars in Ikaria and the only way to travel from one part of the island to another was by walking long hours across uninhabited, mountainous landscapes in rain, snow or fog. Following this desicion, the Town Council granted permission to the interested parts to repair the old shelter and adapt it to modern needs. As they said, that would be done on the own expences and voluntary work without help from either central or local government…
Volunteers going to work in the wilderness on dream project…?
Oops! I know that! I must help!

………My involvement ^^’
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Dear readers, the purpose The oldest mt. shelter in the Aegean islands by angelos ka on Flickr of this article is to advertise the aforementioned project and call for funding and support. To do so I can’t find a better way than to show you a set of 16 photos taken many years ago on a hike along half the length of the mountain ridge. That great, mind and soul filling, two-day trip would not have been possible if Spitaki tis Mamis didn’t exist.
In the middle of that desert of rocks, sands, ferns and srubs, although abandonned and broken, it was still there marking the way, connecting the present with the past. It still said «Hello, I am here for you». I want it to be repaired. If not for any other reason, because of an experience I will never forget. Many years ago when I was single and young, while lying in my sleeping bag on its old cracked concrete roof, still warm from the sun, Nightsky over the mountain shelter in Ammoudia, IkariaI gazed at the biggest and brightest summer night sky I’ve seen in my life!

……… The pictures
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On the path inside Ranti Forest

On the path inside Ranti Forest

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Walking on the ridge and leaving the forest behind

Walking on the ridge and leaving the old forest behind

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A typical Ikarian rock house on the way to Rahes

A typical Ikarian rock house on the way to Rahes

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Checking the map in the sunset. Got to reach that mountain shelter before nightfall

Checking the map in the sunset. Got to reach that mountain shelter before nightfall

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Unpacking inside the tiny mountain shelter

Unpacking inside the tiny mountain shelter

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The fireplace!

The fireplace!

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Sunrise on Ammoudia plateau, alt 860 m.

Sunrise on Ammoudia plateau, alt. 860 m.

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On the road inside Erifi plateau in the morning

On the road inside Erifi plateau in the morning

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In view of forested uplands

In view of forested uplands

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Hike across barren wastelands

Hike across barren wastelands

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In view of the southern coast at last

In view of the southern coast at last

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Walking down to Karkinagri on a beautiful stone paved lane for a while

Walking down to Karkinagri on a beautiful stone paved lane for a while

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Old houses built on steep ground in the historical part of the village next to a very violent mountain torrent

Old houses built on steep ground in the historical part of the village next to a very violent mountain torrent

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Climbing down along a mountain stream near Karkinagri

Climbing down along a mountain stream near Karkinagri

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source

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That was all from me for now. You can read the official account of the project at this link. For donations, as well as for extra hands, you may write to opsikarias2008@gmail.com and/or kinisi.politon.ikaria@gmail.com. I will keep you up to date for further developments.
Follow me up! ^^’

Eleni Ik ❤

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Saturday, June 6, 2017


I’m back & sea turtles! •·.·´¯`·.·•. •·.·´¯`·.·•☀


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Sea Turtle, ancient Greek silver coin

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Two days ago and I’m back in Ikaria and I am taking part in my own cleansing ritual as always In my blog: A pink woolen baby hood - Ενα ροζ μωρουδίστικο σκουφακι' early in the morning and after that I put something on and lie on the sand and I am tired and I drowse off and although it was cold earlier, now the sun rises higher and I wake up from the heat, and I think I’m dreaming baby sea turtle october ikaria 1‘cause next to my waist, and my left thigh small black creatures emerge from the sand hot babes and they look as if made of rubber and they are six or seven (maybe there were more while I was asleep) and they crawl and paddle towards the sea – because they are newly born baby sea turtles!!! baby sea turtle october ikaria 2
😊 😍
And I jump on my feet and one more baby crawls out of the sand from the spot where I had laid my head and I’m trying to reach my camera while I’n also trying to keep my pareo around my waist and the camera drops on the sand and I am wasting time to clean it and I think that I’m screaming -from baby sea turtle october ikaria 3 impatience, excitement and joy…
😖 😆 😄
And I open the lid of the lens and I finally take three good shots!!!
📷 😤
Bravo, chelonakia!
Bravo, baby sea-turtles!
Thanks for the short crazy momentmy shadow on the sand
I felt you were my own little brats!!!
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Now in case some of you thought I am some kind of animal enchanter ☺ – according to latest records, loggerhead sea turtles are not uncommon in the eastern Aegean islands, including Ikaria, and that in spite the fact that we don’t have many appropriate sandy beaches. Several friends have seen nests and even witnessed mothers laying eggs.

Sea turtles in the surf, from Nana to agrimi's article '∩oso ∩ια Vα?'Turtle tale, a set by angeloska on FlickrCaretta-caretta eggs in Syrtiko beach near Agios Kyrikos, a set by Giorgos Sourtis on FlickrERT: (article in Greek) 'Και οι καρέτα – καρέτα επισκέπτονται την Ικαρία'

But I think I was the first person on the island that baby Sea turtles in the Aegeansea turtles hatched and crawled out of the sand right under my body!
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Ikaria 22/10/2016

≅ river 2003 ≅


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aqua1006 (msaz) - Ikaria 2003 Seeing pictures of those new girls as they went around and posed proudly in the wild nature of Ikaria last summer, I said: «Hey, young ladies! We were there long before you!» Not that -goes without saying- we were the first. We don’t claim a title which righteously belongs to the hippies. But we were the first who took photos and shared them with the world. Retracting my memories, I had even made a drafty webpage in 2004 where I described the magic of one of those places -the best in my opinion in the whole island. «Hike Chalares, canyon of my heart», was the title, if I am not mistaken. I had received critisism for that page, critisism of the kind, «You shouldn’t give out secrets» and so on. But I was sure of my step. Wonders of nature shouldn’t be kept secret. The same goes for «pockets of freedom», they shouldn’t be kept secret either. But this is not the issue today. The issue today is that, twelve years after that day of September when we walked up bravely for almost the whole length of that river, today that I am not as young and posy as I was in 2003, I am sharing again with the world some of the material stored in the poor memory card of our obsolete Casio Exilim which could contain no more than 20 hi-res shots. But first let me review a few stories about the river – the scenery where these shots where taken.
♦ ♦ ♦  As I said, in 2003 we visited the canyon to survey the location and take photos. Besides sport and fun, our purpose was to a evaluate: «Was it as beautiful as they said? And if so, what kind of threats to the environment were there?».
♦ ♦ ♦  Having proven that Chalares was an amazing place, having shown that inspite it was September, there was plenty of water and the vegetation was lush, having warned that the sides of the hills were infested by disastrous free-grazing goats, I suggested that a hiking trail was created in order to put in value the beauty of the canyon and hopefully promote its protection.
♦ ♦ ♦  My appeal was heard and in 2005 a large trail network spread in the area. In addition, the large river pool which appears in the photos below was chosen for a very interesting experiment: the construction of a small environment-friendly semipermeable dam, meant to slow down the flow of the river and give new strengh to the vegetation.
♦ ♦ ♦  But though in the coming years the canyon got to be more and more known, visited and enjoyed, the main threat to its environment was not treated.
Unfortunately the goats were always there. As a matter of fact, for reasons that don’t concern this review, there were even more! As a result, exactly five years ago, in October 18, 2010, when a torrential rainfall hit the western part of the island, the overgrazed, barren and unstable sides of the lower part of the canyon collapsed. Tons of earth and rocks were carried by the water smashing the trees  and wiping out all vegetation, leveling the lakes, transforming what used to be a detailed natural handiwork into a flat highway of gravel and sand.
Today is the black anniversary of that disaster. For older girls like me it is a bitter reminder that it takes much more things than just good intentions for paradise to happen. For younger girls I hope it is a lesson to be learned, I am afraid, only through experience. I am spreading my winds (which have started to turn grey) over their pretty heads and I am dedicating to them seven pictures from that blissful day of 2003 in the river when it was rich, when it was green, when it was mine. For better or worse it’s their turn now.
The following photos were heavily processed using different methods in different periods of time. In this entry, as they always should, they appear their real «order taken», which is «in order of feelings»: curiosity, worry, happiness, pride, relaxed bliss, anxiety, humility. Their titles in Flickr are different but if you move your mouse over each picture, you will be able to know which is which.
That’s all. Let the old show begin again! ^^’

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curiosity

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worry

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happiness

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pride

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relaxed bliss

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anxiety

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humility

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Copyright © Eleni Ikanou



The Scholarship – Η Υποτροφια


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Αμοργός by Eleni Ikanou on Flickr

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The Scholarship **

 While I was studying I almost suffered a total physical and mental breakdown and a nicotine poisoning as well. Until one day, coming back from the tabac shop, I found my room locked with a locket. Outside my room stood my grandmother with a waist-purse in hand. “Take this. You’ll find 50.000 drachmas in it and your papers. You’ll also find an Olympic Airlines ticket to Greece. In Pereus there’s a ticket to Ikaria waiting for you at the So&So travel agency. I don’t want to see you earlier than two months from now.” That was all she said, and spoke no more.

I grabbed a dress from the pile with the dirty laundry, a jean jacket from the hanger on the corridor, my beauty case and put it all inside an old military sack that belonged to my father, and fled. I wasn’t even wearing underwear. I was only worried for my flip-flops which were too old and I was afraid they’d tear. And indeed one of them tore, not in Brusseld – thank God – but at Athens airport. I threw them away and stepped on Greek soil barefooted with my head empty smiling like an idiot.

When later I tried to recall the details of that summer, my efforts went in vain. The only thing I recall – probably because it was completely against my nature – was that I couldn’t speak. My grandma who besides being a Bolshevik, was also a Christian and a bit of a witch, while sending me away in that horrid silence of hers something did to me and “struck me dumb.”

I worshipped my grandma and she worshipped me. The conctents of the waist-purse where my scholarship to be able to flee. But the dumbness was a gift to be able to feel the life, so that I wouldn’t die, so that I would live.

Instead of focusing on my mind, I focused on my body and especially… on my feer. Back then there was still in Evdilos a shoe-shop that had shoes piled on the floor. I bought all kinds of absurd, men’s sandals and galoshes. I knocked about the island wearing them, dudes, I literally tore them apart walking!

I suffered a sunstroke twice until the light gradually conquered the demon inside me and while drunk in a fair, I got my speech again, my laghter, my cry. This was exactly 40 days after I had left home. It was back in 1992.

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** integral text-
Ελένη Ικάνου

Published on friends’ request in a contest at  Flickr Group: Places of magic in Greece


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☼☼☼

Η Υποτροφια **

Οταν σπουδαζα καποτε κινδινεψα να παθω γενικο colapsus, σωματικο και ψυχικο, επισης και δηλητηριαση απο νικοτινη. Ωσπου μια μερα, επιστρεφοντας απο το tabac, βρηκα το δωματιο μου κλειδωμενο με λουκετο. Απ’ εξω με περιμενε η γιαγια μου με ενα τσαντακι ‘μπανανα» στο χερι. «Παρε αυτο. Εχει μεσα 50.000 δραχμες και τα χαρτια σου. Εχει κι ενα εισιτιριο Ολυμπιακης για την Ελλαδα. Στον Πειραια στο ταδε πρακτοριο σε περιμενει ενα εισιτηριο για Ικαρια. Δεν θελω να σε ξαναδω πριν περασουν δυο μηνες.» Αυτα ειπε και δεν ξαναμιλησε.

Πηρα ενα φουστανι απο τα απλυτα, ενα τζην τζακετ απο τη κρεμαστρα στο διαδρομο και το νεσεσερ μου απο το μπανιο, τα εβαλα σε μια παλιο σακ βουαγιαζ στυλ μιλιτερ του πατερα μου, και την εκανα. Ουτε εσωρουχα δεν φορουσα. Ανησυχουσα μονο για τις σαγιοναρες μου, μηπως κοπουν, γιατι ηταν πολυ παλιες. Και πραγματι κοπηκε η μια, ευτυχως οχι στις Βρυξελες, αλλα στο αεροδρομιο της Αθηνας. Τις πεταξα και πατησα το Ελληνικο εδαφος ξυπολητη και με το μυαλο μου αδειο χαμογελωντας σαν ηλιθια.

Ματαια προσπαθησα αργοτερα να θυμηθω τις λεπτομερειες εκεινου του καλοκαιριου. Το μονο που θυμαμαι -γιατι ηταν εντελως εναντιο στη φυση μου- ηταν οτι δεν μπορουσα να μιλησω. Η γιαγια μου που εκτος απο μπολσεβικα, ηταν και χριστιανη και μαζι λιγακι μαγισα, με την τρομερη, αβασταχτη της σιωπη καθως με εδιωχνε, κατι μου εκανε και «μου πηρε τη λαλια».

Τη λατρεβα τη γιαγια μου και με λατρεβε κι εκεινη. Τα περιεχομενα της μπανανας ηταν υποτροφια για να μπορεσω να φυγω. Η αλαλια ομως ηταν δωρο για να νιωσω τη ζωη, για να μη πεθανω και για να ζησω.

Αντι για το μιαλο μου, επικεντρωθηκα στο σωμα μου και ειδικα …στα ποδια μου. Τοτε ακομα ηταν ενα απιστευτο μαγαζι στο Ευδηλο που ειχε παπουτσια σε σωρους στο πατωμα. Αγορασα διαφορα κουλα αντρικα πεδιλα και μποτες εργατικες. Φοροντας τις, αλονισα το νησι, μιλαμε μαγκες, το εφαγα με το κουταλι!..

Δυο φορες επαθα ηλιαση ωσπου το φως σκοτωσε σιγα-σιγα το δαιμονα και σε ενα πανιγιρι μεθυσμενη ξαναβρηκα τη λαλια μου, το γελιο και το κλαμα μου. Αυτο εγινε στις ακριβως 40 μερες απο τοτε που εφυγα απο το σπιτι μου. Το ετος ηταν το 1992.

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** αυτοτελες κειμενο –
Ελένη Ικάνου

Ikaria 075

Δημοσιευτηκε to 2007 κατα παρακληση φιλων σε διαγωνισμο στο Flickr Group: Places of magic in Greece

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Express EUROPA


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Ikaria – Piraeus – Athens – Thessalonica – Sofia – Budapest –Brussels – Amsterdam – Rotterdam – Brussels – Liege – Brussels – Rotterdam – Budapest – Sofia – Thessalonica – Athens – Piraeus – Ikaria

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https://i2.wp.com/farm1.static.flickr.com/39/75517431_f7e8f9251d_m.jpg

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TERMINUS

Ikaria 083

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Comments

(11 total)

Express EUROPA? And you-are-the-bomber? :- ha ha ha :- What a depressing film!.. But you have the gift to make everything end well. Welcome back!

Monday July 9, 2007 – 12:14pm (EEST)

I shed a happy tear for you and Sideraki.

Tuesday July 10, 2007 – 11:08pm (BST)

2-3 entries more and we turn off the steam. Let’s have a deeep holiday.

Wednesday July 11, 2007 – 11:48am (EEST)

if the engine-expert says so, ok
yes, 2-3 more entries while the engine is still hot
then we go deee-eep *blip*

Wednesday July 11, 2007 – 02:21am (PDT)

Oh yes! Turn off the steam of the engines and heat up the pans! I will eat those potatoe-fries at last!

Thursday July 12, 2007 – 10:25pm (EEST)

Glad to hear you took the express and made it back already! Hope you all enjoy the Meltemi for rest of the Summer. It seems I took the slowest train in the world to get back to the Aegean shores.

Saturday July 14, 2007 – 10:01am (EDT)

Hello Can! Glad to have you around again. So you know what the meltemi is. I didn’t doubt.

Saturday July 14, 2007 – 01:09pm (PDT)

Fly quicker than the mind? Goodness, my muscles are suddenly stiff.

Monday July 16, 2007 – 04:23pm (PDT)

Oh don’t take it too seriously; it’s much harder than it looks. This is just the blog after all. Not the real thing.

Tuesday July 17, 2007 – 01:16pm (PDT)

333!

Wednesday July 18, 2007 – 08:44am (CEST)

pas encore -:))

Saturday July 21, 2007 – 01:10pm (PDT)


Qua poena dunc? Deportatio ad isolam!


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Hippie bar, grateful exiled
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So, with votes 9/1 the jury (composed of my friends) has decided that I shall be deported “ad isolam”(=to an island). Thank you, jury! Being grateful for your humane decision, let me hang on the walls of my blog this funny, shiny and full of summer warmth picture.

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The Greek island of Ikaria in the Aegean Sea, Greece.

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It’s a photo by Adam Monk taken in Trapalou, a cove in the southwest of Ikaria, the island where one day I will live as a grateful self-deportee.

Εl&co

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summer houseyard

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Ευχαριστώ πολύ και το «Ελληνικό δικαστήριο«. Οι καταδικαστικές ψήφοι εκεί ήταν 6/1. Δεν έκλεισα ακόμα τη ψηφοφορία. Μπορείτε ακόμα να ψηφίσετε.

Ελ&σια

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https://i2.wp.com/farm3.staticflickr.com/2238/2516514645_d91946a971.jpg

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Comments

(3 total)

-the Latin is correct -It was me the member of the jury who voted for solution 4. I don’t want Stavros to take the sea nomore. Lovers should stay together all the time! And a baby boy (today more than ever) needs a father always around. I’m in for a small fishing or sailing boat, though. Men need this distraction. And I love sunbathing on a nice wooden deck.
Friday May 18, 2007 – 10:37pm (EEST)
-about the photo? He, he ..only in Ikaria… The stone hut of a wanna-be hippie. But with a «self-deportee» it’s different. It’s a great photo, btw. It warms me around my waist… 😉
Friday May 18, 2007 – 10:42pm (EEST)

Wild Shots | Eleni's blog in Ikaria

Τι υπέροχη ‘ποινή’ σου επιβάλαμε! Θα χαίρονται τα κόκαλα της γιαγιάς σου! Έκανα αίτηση στο δικαστήριο και θα με ονομάσουν ‘δεσμοφύλακα’ σου!
Φυσικά και θα κάνω κάθε δυνατή κατάχρηση της εξουσίας μου…

Tuesday May 22, 2007 – 01:27pm (EEST)