August 2019

I am slightly late in writing this month, one reason being that I still, after more years than I care to remember, lock horns, as it were, with my computer, as it occasionally seems to develop a will of its own. For reasons that remain shrouded in mystery the page suddenly shrank, and it has taken me ages to get it back to a size conducive to legibility. I’m not helped by the fact that all labels, instructions, and the like, are in Greek, and I admit to having yawning gaps in areas such as technical and medical vocabulary. Never mind: so far, so good, at least until the next time.

August is traditionally the month during which most of Greece is on holiday. And of course most people make a bee-line for the beach. We have not had (so far) the really extreme conditions that recently plagued France, Germany and Holland, but the temperature hovers around 33/34 for weeks on end, so beaches and pools get a lot of use. And the beach is such an easy way to keep the littlies occupied. Give my youngest grandchildren (Orestes and Natalia, aged 6 and 3 respectively) their buckets and spades, and peace is guaranteed for at least an hour.

People probably feel they deserve a rest after last month’s elections. It’s interesting to note the days on which elections take place. The UK votes on Thursdays, the US on Tuesdays, Australia on Saturdays and Greece on Sundays. At least it is easier for Australians and Greeks to get to the polls, and Greeks have the added bonus of being able to go to church before voting: presumably a certain number pray for divine guidance.

Voting is a social occasion, especially in villages. People stand chatting in queues, ID cards at the ready. On entering the voting space, you are presented with a fistful of paper, one sheet for each party. You choose the sheet/party you want, and put a cross near the candidate of your choice. The rest of the paper goes into a very large plastic bag placed there for the purpose. I’ve twice asked whether the paper would be re-cycled, but nobody had an answer for me. I was told that 150,000 trees had been sacrificed, so it would be good if the Greek government followed Ethiopia’s very recent example: the PM and a host of workers planted 350 million trees a week ago.

The election result was not a surprise, so Leftist SYRIZA was defeated and the Centre-Right New Democracy party now has a sizeable majority. The new PM, Kyriakos Mitsotakis, has his work cut out for him: apart from anything else, he needs to attract investment, create new jobs, and do something about the tax burden borne by ordinary people. The average head of household has to work 180 days of the year simply to pay tax and insurance. During the past tough times of austerity, many people were forced to choose between paying tax and feeding their families: it is obvious what they did.

One really bright spot is that Golden Dawn, the neo-Nazi party that accumulated such power during the years of the Greek crisis, is no longer in Parliament. Three cheers and hats in the air!

But in general I despair of the world. I’m sure I’ve said that before, and doubtless I will say it again. Everywhere you look there is a mess, with so-called little people suffering in great numbers. I don’t know that I ever believed in cosmic justice, but I certainly don’t believe in it now: all around us we see the wicked prospering. And parts of the world are being ruled by people who can only be described as buffoons: the USA, the UK, and Australia spring to mind. How these narcissistic people sleep at night is a mystery to me.

So we have to make the most of good moments. Several of those came recently when son Alexander and daughter-in-law Nina decided to take Orestes and Natalia on a walking tour of the old part of Kalamata. We paid the mandatory visit to the Cathedral, named for the Presentation of the Lord, where the children engaged in the ritual of lighting candles. The Cathedral is not old, being a nineteenth-century building that has had its trials by earthquake. But it is home to a very old and venerable icon of the Mother of Christ.

Then up we went to the Castle, which dates from 1205. So that’s old, at least to people from the so-called New World. At that stage, Frankish knights were the powers in the area, and the castle was owned by the de Villehardouin family. The famous William II de Villehardouin was born in the castle, and went on to mount a successful siege against Monemvasia, another and more spectacular castle settlement in Laconia, in the east of the Peloponnese.

Of course the littlies knew nothing of all this, but enjoyed the views and the climb up to the top of the acropolis. But I think they enjoyed the Railway Park more: there they could climb in and out of Kalamata’s old steam engines, and pretend to drive them. Such are the pleasures of childhood, and it is our pleasure to re-live them vicariously.