Friday the Thirteenth

 

Friday the Thirteenth

After a late night in the village, with precious little sleep (4:00-8:00 a.m.), Jonathan dragged his tired self up to the little house to continue with the varnishing in the relative cool of morning.

Stopping at an overlook with the long view to Finikounda, for a photo in the soft light of morning, he climbed to rock outcrop, took the photo, lost his balance, and tumbled down a steep gravely embankbank. It feels like a second toe might have been broken—a record for one week. And then he remembered: today is Friday the Thirteenth.

Jonathan met Yioryio, who was grazing his goats in the parched pasture near the old stone. Festooned in his complete Fidel Castro outfit—including the little green hat—he was a vision of pastoral resistance. He promised to stop by later in the day to check on Jonathan’s progress.

Across from the little house, a half dozen pickup trucks were parked and a dozen or so villagers were harvesting their grapes. (Jonathan will help Yiota and Taki in this endeavor on their land on Sunday morning—his last full day here.) There was a loud chatter from the gatherers, their straw hats rising and falling above the vineyard.

Last night Jonathan was treated to a fresh batch of loukoumathes, kindly offered by Yiota. A loukoumathe is a fried dough ball ( in extra virgin olive oil, of couse) that is drizzed with honey and freshly ground cinnamon. What made this treat even more special was an added delicacy—a thick syrup made from reduced grapes. This is an expensive item and hard-to-find in Greece and the taste is singular.

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Yiota told Jonathan about a tsunami that hit Loutsa in 1945. There had been a severe earthquake, and the residents of Loutsa—then a village, today a collection of beach houses and one taverna—fled to the higher ground of Akritohori, near to where Jonathan is fixing the old house. One family fled with their eight children, only to learn when arriving on the mountain that they had left a young son behind.

The tsunami obliterated the village of Loutsa but somehow the boy survived. Now an elderly man, he lives in Finikounda.

Jonathan’s friend also recalled a more recent earthquake, the one that was centered in Kalamata in 1997, which resulted in much destruction, loss of life, and a subsequent rewriting of the building codes for all of Greece. Yioryio and his  wife gathered their children in a rush, and drove up the mountain to Akritorhori, but thankfully there was no tsunami then.

European Basketball

Last night the Greek national basketball team defeated reigning two-time champion Spain in the final quarter of the European semifinal. When the buzzer rang out, there was a single howl of delight that issued from every bar, cafeneion, and tavern.

 

What a Beach Life Can Be

 

Tired and sweaty from hours of varnishing and moving rocks, Jonathan drove the five minutes down the mountain to the big beach, where he languish in his birthday suit with a handful of German and Dutch sunbathers. From the vantage of his beach towel, he could look across the bay and up the mountain, roughly spotting the location of his family’s little spitaki. In the photo above it is just above and to the left of the three houses that sit alone to the right.

 

One of those ethereal moments that we humans sometimes encounter. Suddenly a butterfly landed by his foot, a few yards from the surf (see photo). A truly magical moment in time.