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| Spring on Sifnos |
We returned to Sifnos, thrilled to unpack more permanently
and reconnect with the community.
Gerhard and Karoline arrived a week earlier to find the cottage in
excellent condition. We cannot say
the same for the landscaping. Not
many of our ex-pat friends are yet on the island. Nevertheless, we are happy to be with local friends who
survived a particularly cold winter and the woes of Greece. While Gerhard and Karoline were
settling in I attended dad’s funeral services. This required six days of travel
to allow for six grieving days in the company of extended family. Now it is Easter season, the highlight
of the Greek year.
Coincidentally, my own state of sadness mimics the dolorous
yet, ultimately, uplifting community experience of Easter in Greece. Schools and many businesses shut down
during the two weeks surrounding Orthodox Easter. This is a time when Sifnos usually experiences a burst of
visitors who wish to celebrate in traditional island style. However, the economic woes are
distressing most families and many cannot afford even the price of a ferry
ticket. In addition, many chose to
avoid unreliable ferries triggered by inconsistent weather and strikes. While Easter celebrations are subdued
this year, it is likely more authentic to the original purpose of honoring
Jesus’ sacrifices and example of faithful living.
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| Red dyed Easter eggs |
During each day of Holy Week the village churches host two
multi-hour services. Each service
focuses on a different station of the cross. Good Friday is perhaps the most dramatic when a candlelit
procession carries the epitaphion (symbolic coffin of Jesus) from the church,
through the village, to the cemetery, then circles back to the church. Participants chant mesmerizing hymns
along the way. Devote women remain
in church overnight for ritualistic mourning. At midnight on Saturday a church service culminates in a
brief display of fireworks (one set per church). Earlier in the day the flame has arrived on Sifnos from
Athens, having originated in Jerusalem. Congregants carry home the flame in lanterns
where the blessing protects the family until the following year. For older godchildren, godparents
cleverly decorate candles (labatha) to encourage practice of this ritual. Younger godchildren tend to
receive a new pair of shoes. Unique
to this night, all businesses and homes are lit up in celebration. In the wee hours of Sunday “death to
death” is declared and the 40-day Lenten fast is broken. As a game, possessors of dyed red eggs
hit one another’s, hoping theirs remains the last to be fully intact. If so, they are the one blessed with
good luck for the year. Many enjoy
eating a traditional stew of lamb offal, dill, rice and egg. Later in the day the extended family
gathers for a big feast, the centerpiece of which is a whole spit-roasted
lamb. On Sifnos it is equally
common to serve Mastello which is a stew of lamb in red wine. Traditional dessert is sweet Easter
bread, usually presented as a braid with a red dyed egg nestled atop. From a friend’s veranda we entertained
ourselves by watching from afar as family clusters ate, sang and danced on
their own verandas.
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| Spring in Kastro |
To be a Greek housewife during this period requires the
utmost of endurance when practicing all the traditions. Or so I found. I am sure that attempting to make red
dyed eggs, knead Easter bread, prepare Mastello, and create a labatha for the
first time required more effort than if it were habit. Having said that, unlike the more
devote, I did not attend church daily or observe the Lenten dietary
restrictions. Even so, having contentedly survived, I feel a
strong need for re-energizing and de-toxing spa treatments.
A few unique Sifnos experiences along the way:
·
Yiannis the goat herder stopped by for his daily
coffee and kept us abreast of news.
He says “simera”, and intones “baa, baa”, then swipes the flat of his
hand across his neck, screwing up his face with a fateful look – all code for
“I’m slaughtering the lamb today.”
He promises a small gift of said meat.
·
Through word of mouth I learn that
septuagenarian Kateh offers for sale freshly slaughtered lamb. In her farm store I watch with
admiration as she expertly lifts the huge cleaver. With full body force she whacks at bone and meat,
repeatedly. I receive half of a lamb,
5.4 kilos, neatly cut into pieces.
·
Kateh also sells her son’s locally produced
sweet red wine. I follow her into the farm’s kitchen that serves both family
and business needs. Moving aside
layers of filled egg cartons and drying mounds of homemade cheeses, she reaches
for the siphon from the wine vat to fill my plastic water bottle full of the
wine.
·
Kateh teaches me how to prepare Mastello. It is super simple. In a large clay pot place grape vine
branches on the bottom to act like a frame. Layer fennel fronds and
portion-sized pieces of lamb that are seasoned with salt and pepper, (bone and
some fat included). Pour in some
wine. Cover and bake on low heat for
6 hours, ideally in one of the island’s ubiquitous outdoor wood burning
ovens. Considering how simple the
technique, the dish is deliciously rich.
It tastes better after resting for a day. Leftovers freeze well.
·
Our rental car broke down. While waiting the five days for parts
to arrive by ferry, we walk everywhere.
Escorting Karoline home from Greek school, we stop by Flora’s farm to
see how this octogenarian is faring.
Before our departure in mid-December we found her ailing and in
bed. I was fearful of the
worst. Instead, she was reigning
over her farm stand, complaining only of a sore hip and leg. Requesting greens, I follow her into
the fields to help select horta, (similar to collard greens), arugula, dill and
broccoli. We also buy fresh
eggs. Shyly, Flora asks for payment
and I eagerly oblige, relieved not to be paying the otherwise exorbitant store
prices.
·
Being the excellent saleswoman that Flora is, I
am persuaded to buy the clay pot used for Mastello from her grandson’s adjacent
pottery workshop. Her grandson
Yiannis teaches me how to cure the pot:
1 cup of olive oil and water to fill the pot. Leave in the sun until all water has evaporated. Voila!
·
As Karoline and I take the daily hike from town
to home, I forage for fennel fronds as seasoning for the Mastello.
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| Labatha for sale |
·
On the island for Easter vacation, friends from
Athens stop by for café und kuchen.
While the kids play, we peer into the dramas and stresses that are common
in Athens today. The family
construction business is in dire straits.
Selling assets allows them to pay off loans that failing banks insist
must be redeemed pre-maturely. The
portfolio shrinks. What does
survive is underwater. Neighbors
on Sifnos complain about the eyesore that is their half-built construction
project. The view limits tourist
appeal and thus affects villagers’ business. Otherwise healthy relationships are now tarnished. The saving grace is investment from a
Saudi family. The only capital
available is from the Middle East.
The investors expect a return so work must go on. While building on Sifnos is cheap now
there are too few buyers. The best
hope for the new houses will be to temporarily offer them as
vacation rentals. However, nether
is this promising considering that there is a glut in vacation rentals. Perhaps they can take the business to
the Middle East and build where there is demand. When income is generated, it is unclear how much is
available to manage cash flow because the Greek tax regulation is in a constant
state of flux. Their three
children continue with private schooling, even when the school is failing. Most parents can no longer afford
the tuition. Ex-pats who had
filled the school have returned to their home countries because they lost their
Greek jobs. If this family is
forced to pull out of private school, then they will emigrate and start over
again, likely in Germany. At
least, for this multi-culti, multi-lingual family, emigration is a realistic
option. They notice that the
people around them are not taking responsibility for the need to change. A common sentiment is: “This situation
is not my fault. It is everyone
else who must change. Not
me.” It would be different if
there were hope. Yet, “as thinking
people”, it is quite clear that there is no reason to place faith in the
country’s leadership—business, political or religious —to find a successful
path forward. We haven’t seen the
worst of it yet. But, hey, the
apple crumble is delicious.
