Several evenings ago Karoline cooked Greek meatballs in a flat bean and tomato sauce, serving it over pasta. She used a flameware casserole pot made in stone bought from our favorite potter on the island, (www.sifnosstoneware.com). One can cook in the pot directly from the flame or electric burner, place it in the oven, or one of the island's public wood-burning ovens, and even into the microwave. The pot is good looking enough that the meal can be presented from it directly on the dining table. I am in awe of this pot!
While Karoline was cooking, I realized myself experiencing a rite of passage into true Sifnian life. By the light of the full moon, (which rose spectacularly over the sea), while sipping an ouzo, and listening to Manos Hadjidakis’ music, I whitewashed stripes along the stone benches and walls around the cottage. Since it takes a day of labor to produce the effect around our property, (when including a break for lunch and swim at the beach), we had resisted the task in the past, making do with the already lovely look of the stone. The whitewash gives a more polished and domesticated feel. My last strokes where aided only by moonlight, and I was groggy from a sun and ouzo filled day. Concerned, I checked my work this morning, and, while not an expectation on the island, the lines were straight enough. The effect is an improvement to the coziness of our home.
During the painting process I reflected on the first time I had seen this method used and it brings to mind the faith by which local families care for the 365 churches scattered around the island. Under the blazing mid-day sun, a young man was on hands and knees applying white wash lines between the paving stones of the outdoor reception patio in front of a small church, a careful 4 inch stroke at a time. As my awareness built, I came to realize that he, very possibly, was a member of the family (panagirades) who had volunteered to take sole responsibility for the upkeep of the church that year. The panagirade's ultimate contribution is the organizing and funding of a big celebration (eorti) on the Saint's Day after which the church had been named. Beginning at dusk, priests and deacons from the Orthodox church conduct their rites over the course of several hours, including the ritual pacing of 5 circles around the 5 loaves of bread, swinging incense canisters, while a family member hefts the saint's icon in this same circular path. After the appropriate blessings, the bread is shared with the festival's participants, wine flows, and the panagirades serves a meal. Eventually the musicians arrive and traditional Greek dance and ballad singing is enjoyed well into the wee hours of the morning. The physical reward for the panagirade's year of contribution is the right to display (and protect) the icon in their own home until the Saint's Day festival the following year. These festivals are a cornerstone of community life on Sifnos, (and the rest of the Cyclades). Already this summer, we have participated in three.
Speaking of churches, it is wedding season in Greece. Sifnos has become a popular locale for destination religious weddings. Yesterday, on our way home from a swim, we witnessed a Sifnos spectacle: the bride is relayed over the sea to the church at Chrisopigi by caique. As she steps on to stone and is escorted by her man on the ascent to the church, bouzouki and violin players stroke traditional Greek tunes into the wild sage and thyme infused air.
This coming Sunday, a friend’s daughter is marrying less ostentatiously. In Sifnos tradition, the entire town must be invited to the wedding and the family expects 800 in attendance. In a break from tradition, the family will host a more private reception dinner for only 120 in a local restaurant. We learned this news from the brother of the bride. We encountered him stepping out of his shop to launch his responsibility of travelling door-to-door in the town, formally inviting each family to participate in the church ceremony. Each time a door is opened, he will be expected to join the family in their parlor, sipping sapporo, eat snacks, and exchange pleasantries and blessings. Rolling his eyeballs, he seemed resigned and fortified to bear the inevitable hangover the following day.
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