Thursday, July 9, 2015

Slow-speed goodbye






Jonathan was invited to his friends Dimitri and Yioryia’s house for dinner last night, on the road that leads to the village of Lahanada, with their balcony’s incredible view of Finikounda and islands beyond.

Dimitri spoke of his recent trip to Italy, as an emissary from Messinia to the ethnically Greek community that is located an hour from Naples. In 1532, a group of thirty families escaped the incredibly oppressive turkokratia, the Ottoman occupation of Greece, which was contested by the bloodthirsty bey named Barbarossa—an Egyptian warlord sent by the sultan to control his Peloponnesian holdings.

These families followed on the heels—that is, about 1,800 years later—of a much larger group of Messinians who, escaping the Spartan domination, took residence in the “heel” of Italy and in Sicily. Even today, both communities speak an Ionic dialect of Greek known in Italy as Grexica, and self-identify as Greek Italians—although in the case of the latter group, the pope abolished the ancient Orthodox faith there and forced conversions to Catholicism.

The latter group was given land in exchange for feilty to the Italian king, and served as soldiers and warriors, of which they had ample pedigree—having endured nearly two millenia of constant combat, first against the Spartans in antiquity and then against the Ottoman Turks during the late Middle Ages.

In the 1860s these Greeks, who had lived independently in Italy for more than two hundred years, joined forces with the nascent Italian liberation movement (under Gharibaldi) and for this they incurred the wrath of the Vatican, which forbid the practice of Orthodox Christianity.

Coming full circle, a schooner-load of these Italian Greeks returned to Messinia, and are settled today in a village near the site of ancient Messene. It is a fantastic history, told so well by Jonathan’s friend Dimitri, as a point of pride and another example of the long arc of Greek history.

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Common sense did not prevail when he left his friends’ house at midnight. He ducked into Finikounda and there he stayed until nearly 3:30, engaged in lively conversation with his friend G. and a German couple. The subject got “stuck” on the European bailout of Greece, the stalled negotiations, the steep precipice on which Greece now hangs by mere fingertips. G. maintained that the Europeans generally—and the German chancellor, Angela Merkel, in particular—are “fascists.” The term was thrown around loosely and was calmly refuted by the German couple, nice people with a gentle bearing and a logical rebuttal. But G. would have none of it. “They are all fascists, and that is my opinion.” The harsh words notwithstanding, it was a friendly conversation among people who have known each another for many years. But it was surely a futile effort at finding that holy common ground.

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A run at 8:00 (on just three and half hours of sleep), some pulling of rocks—an endless task that is making a world of difference to the little orchard’s character—and then, following a lead, Jonathan found Vaso and Panayioti—what else could a male be named in this province, beside “Dimitri”?—who raise bees and sell honey.

A short introduction and J. was soon on receiving end of the typically copious Messinian hospitality: given coffee, cold water, a large piece of comb honey—and sent packing with three one-kilo tins of honey (one orange blossom, one thyme, and one wild flower), a bottle of wine, and a bag of garden vegetables, including a fantastic white eggplant shaped like a UFO.



Panayioti keeps his bees in various locations, including (of great interest to Jonathan) on the slopes of Mount Taygetos (elevation: 8200 feet), east of the Gulf of Messinia and west of Sparta. The conversation led to his interest in tackling this peak, which is the plan for next year.

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It was 90 degrees by 9 a.m., and in the high nineties when he arrived at his favorite beach spot, just beyond the dunes. The sensation of extreme heat followed by the relief of an ocean immersion is indescribably pleasant.

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A Foreign Story

Jonathan’s American friend describes this area as the “United Nations of Finikounda” and it is an apt description. Nearly every European nationality is represented in this corner of the Peloponnese. Some are long-time visitors, often multigenerational, while many others live here full-time or periodically throughout the year in houses, some new, some renovated—on the hilltops (Germans and Dutch) or tucked into the folds of olive groves (most everyone else). Here is the best guess for represented nationalities, in order of magnitude: Germans, Austrians, Dutch, English, Swiss, Italian, French, Russian…and a tiny smattering of Americans.



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Jonathan took his English friends P. and D. out to dinner in Vasilitsi, a village about 15 kilometers up the road from his little spitaki. None of them had been there before, so it was a shared adventure. It is a large cluster of houses on a hillside, with a broad view across the Bay of Messinia toward Mount Taygetos, and an incredible church located on the village heights..

Nikos’s taverna serves exceptional, traditional food—including delicacies such as zuccini flowers stuffed with rice, baked Messinian cheese, and an array of main courses that would satisfy the most discriminating gastrinome.


In an act of self-preservation and common sense, Jonathan was home before 1 a.m., the earliest night, by far, in six weeks. A chance to rest up for the final three days of “goodbyes.”

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