April 2020

April Fools’ Day used to be a day of general hilarity in Australia when I was a child, with children and yes, adults, trying to catch each other out. I was no longer a child, though, when numbers of people were duped by the idea of a spaghetti farm. This seems hard to believe in these very much more sober times. Greece has never made a great deal of the day, at least not in my experience, and at present there is little trace of festive mood anywhere in the land. Or anywhere on earth, if it comes to that.

It is only a few short weeks since the coronavirus, now called Covid-19, came like a bolt from the blue. It wasn’t really like that, of course, but most people probably thought the disease would stay in China. Those with knowledge of a particular sort of history, however, knew better, and were fearful. Most people of my generation know about the so-called Spanish flu, and the way in which it scythed through populations: a conservative estimate is 50 million deaths. I can remember the Asian flu of 1957, and my mother being in bed for days, a very rare occurrence. In the pandemic stakes, it was a mere blip that accounted for four million, but it certainly reinforced the idea that pandemics are a fact of life and death and recur at unpredictable intervals.

Greece is being largely ignored by the world’s media, much to my annoyance, but so far it is doing very well in its handling of the crisis. I presume the government took fright almost the minute things started to go very wrong in Italy, and so acted promptly and efficiently. I didn’t vote for PM Kyriakos Mitsotakis, but have to concede he is doing an excellent job in showing genuine and much-needed leadership. So are the medical experts: the man of the hour is Professor Sotirios Tsiodras, an immunologist and specialist in infectious diseases, who presents a succinct report on the situation on national television every evening. I am absurdly pleased to learn he was born in Sydney!

I never thought I’d see the day when churches in Greece were closed, but closed they are, and for the first time ever Greeks are forbidden to return to their villages for Easter, which falls on April the 19^th, a prohibition that is going to be hard for village oldies, who look forward to returns and celebrations every year. Mr Mitsotakis and his medical advisers presented the members of the Holy Synod with the scientific facts and the clerics were eventually persuaded, even though most of them believe that the faithful are protected; it was a help that the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew was on the PM’s side, 

The authorities also brought in lockdown measures in a timely manner. For two weeks now, people have not been permitted to be on the street without a permit and their ID cards. This provision could last well into May or longer: even the medical experts cannot say. We are permitted to visit the doctor, the chemist, the supermarket, the bank, and to take brief exercise near our homes. Bakeries are working, but serving via their windows, with people queueing and observing the required 2 metre distance. I’m bemused by the fact that Australian hairdressers still seem able to work: at the rate things are going, I’ll soon be wearing my hair in plaits. As it is, I can hardly see out of my eyes, and if there were any Old English Sheepdogs around they’d be running up to me with glad cries and barks of ‘Mother!’

It is worth noting that the Greek Parliament is sitting, unlike another Parliament I could mention. And in other news, as they say, the President (a woman at last!) has announced she will be donating half of her salary for the next two months to the Covid-19 Fund, which is to help in the provision of protective equipment and in giving some relief to families who are struggling to cope in the crisis. The PM, his Cabinet and MPs are set to follow the President’s example. A prominent ship owner has also recently stated that it is the business of wealthy people to help, to engage in a spirit of philanthropy, which is, of course, a good Greek word. We will see.

We in the rural areas are fortunate in being able to get out once a day, and on our own: I notice, on my solitary walk, a hardy swimmer who braves the briny most days, even though the water must still be very cold. There are a few cyclists and a few joggers, while road traffic consists mainly of delivery trucks: so far there is little panic-buying, and no shortages that I know of. For the rest, we have the sights of spring: the golden wattles are in full bloom along the beach road, and the wisteria and Judas trees are also flowering.

And most people are being very co-operative, although a number of people, mainly in cities, have been fined for flouting the rules. Throughout history, Greeks have faced adversity bravely, and are not about to change now. A hero who knew about adversity has just died at the age of 98. Manolis Glezos fought for liberty all his life, and suffered for it, having spent a total of twelve years in gaol, thanks to the Germans, Italians and various right-wing forces. At the age of 18, he and a friend managed to get on to the Acropolis at night, and were able to drag the swastika down from the flag-pole. They were sentenced to death in absentia, and Glezos himself underwent torture on several occasions, yet managed to survive. A great example to think on during this testing time.