CDs arrive

It’s 4:30am, and I have a 24-hour trip to look forward to. But it’s been made a lot happier by the arrival of Zeljo’s CDs yesterday. Linda Campbell did a great job, as usual, on the design, and the recording sounds terrific. I’m hoping Zeljo is happy with the product, as it is his first. You can visit my Izvor site for a bio on Zeljo and some sound clips ahead of time. OK, got to grab the bus to the airport.

Going to Macedonia

Leaving Thursday the 2nd of July, I’ll be taking this trip alone, as Sandra will be staying home to continue her art project. I’m going to the Republic of Macedonia to deliver a CD of zurla (zourna) music to Zeljo Destanovski, former player for Tanec. See my web site, Izvor Music for more info. I’ll also be attending a music and dance campp run by Goran Alachki and visiting my friend Slavko in Slovenia. I’ll try to keep a series of posts going on this, similar to what I did on my last trip to Greece. I won’t get to Greece this time around, unfortunately. Due to some of the comments I received last time, and the likelihood of more this time around because of the controversy on the use of the name “Macedonia”, I’m turning off all comments.

Back home

Our trip home was uneventful, but very long–26 hours from hotel door to bed. It’s very disorienting to fly for me; I used to love it, but I don’t really enjoy it anymore, even though the view of the Alps was awesome. This is not due to any fears about terrorism, but is more about how inhuman it is to travel such great distances so quickly, not to mention doing that 7 miles about the earth! I even think car travel is weird.

I found myself in the Atlanta airport speaking Greek in reply to English questions. And long before this time, Sandra’s and my syntax in English was screwed up; we’d be saying things like, “The flashlight I will bring.” So, I end the trip speaking Greek like a 4-year old, and speaking English like Yoda…

It was a great, very relaxing trip. We met many wonderful people from Spain, France, Italy, Germany, and of course, Greece. I don’t think the problems I have with some aspects of the country, its culture, and its people are greater as a whole than those I have with, for example the US, and I know for a fact we do far more damage with far greater effect to the planet than Greece as a country will ever do. I also have hopes that those Greeks who, like Sandra & I, are out of the mainstream, and whose values about people, the environment, public health, children, and politics we share (and we met many of these people), will continue be part of a movement to help steer the country away from the environmental and social calamities awaiting it toward a more sustainable, truly humanly interactive, and healthy society. Our job is to do that here at home, and also create models of what’s possible, and learn from Greece and other places alternatives to our own culture’s damaging and alienating qualities.

Greece is a wonderful country, and we’re privileged to have been able to spend so much time there and be treated so well. We hope to going back next year…

Athens, last days

Well, our trip is winding down. We took a bus back from Mesolongi to Athens. T-shirt contender on the bus: 15-year old boy wearing “Porn Star in Training”, with a bunch of icons of sexual positions below and their labels, such as “Double Penetration” and “Reverse Cow”. On the second bus, from the station to the Metro, we had a run in with a Metro Cop. We were crowded onto the back of the bus surrounded by people and suitcases, and so we couldn’t get to the one machine on the bus up front to validate our .50 tickets. Of course, when the cop saw the tickets I gave him, he said they were no good and wanted to see my passport. Then he and his partner asked us to get off the bus at Omonia, and told us we had to pay a @0.00 fine each! Of course we protested this, explaining in Greek the situation, then Sandra asked if we could speak with his boss (”Not today.”), and then he asked me if i was Greek. It ended up fine, but I think our speaking Greek, my descent, and the reality of the bus situation (which they experienced as well as us) helped.

We went to Loutsa for two nights to spend time with Anna again. She enjoyed talking to us (in English) and is definitely not mainstream, as we are not, so we had a lot in common. I was surprised, though, to hear her blame the enormous trash problem on the Albanians, primarily. Another person we had talked to said that the problem with the Albanians was the when the borders were opened, Albania released all its criminals from jail and sent them to Greece. This and Anna’s comment reminded me so much of the way most Americans perceive Mexicans and other Spanish-speakers (remember the Marielitos?) and Blacks. All in all, though we had a great time with Anna.

Our last day in Athens was spent shopping for books and music, for us and friends, and we booked a room at the Art Gallery Hotel, where we had spent our first 3 days. We got together with Nasos and Katerina, whom we had met on Amorgos. they insisted on picking us up in their car and taking us to the waterfront in Pireas for dinner. We had a wonderful time over a long dinner, talking, In Greek, about all kinds of things. It turns out they like classical music, and Katerina even teaches piano, so that was another commonality. they’re both very decent, warm people, and this was a great way to leave the country.

Mesolongi

After our long stay in wonderful Ioannina, we bid goodbye to Dimitri and took a bus down to Mesolongi, the home of Apostolos and Loula, whom we had met at the panayiri in Pirsogianni. They had kindly invited us to visit and we took them up on it. It was 108 degrees in the shade, so we spent most of our time drinking water and talking. Mesolongi has an important place in Greek history re: the modern creation of the country, and Byron died here while attempting to organize the Greek troops.

Apostolos had danced for Dora Stratou and was now teaching kids in the public school. He and Loula showed us their amazing collection of costumes, some old, some recreated, that the used for the dance performances. We also looked at some videos, both of Apostolis dancing, and some public music performances he helped organize for the town. He knows a lot of famous musicians, so it was great to talk with him.

They took us to see the sunset, fed us, of course, and took us to the Garden of Heroes, where statues of friends of Greece and heroes of the Revolution are placed every few meters. It’s a very European kind of place.

Our time with them and their family was a continuation of our good contacts at the hotel in Ioannina in terms of intelligent, kind, out-of-the-mainstream people. And they don’t even smoke…

Ioannina, last days

After our music binge, we went the next day to the Zagorohoria, villages in the mountainous Zagori region made of stone with slate roofs, kinda in the middle of nowhere, very lovely. I had wanted to hike the Vikos gorge, the deepest canyon in the world according to Guinness, but you need to stay overnight there, or get up at 4 to take a bus, or arrange with an expedition company. The latter couldn’t do it, so maybe next time. The part that we saw was impressive enough.

We went to Monodendri and spent the day there. We found a traditional handicrafts center that also had an exhibition space which was showing some very nice phtos by Willy Ronis, whom I’d never heard of, but is apparently becoming big in France. During part of our walk we ran into some Italians. We knew they were Italians before we heard the language because they were all talking at once, really loudly, and moving their hands. It got so one of them even put her hands over her ears and said, “Shh!.” But remember, I’m half Italian and grew up with this. So, one of them asked us where we were from, and when they found out I was half Neapolitan, it was another talk-fest (they were from Naples, too!). A nice moment.

The next day we went to Zitsa for a long-awaited tribute to Petro-Loukas Halkias, one of the last great clarinet players of the region. It had been advertised on the radio and tv, and we thought, wow, this is going to be something. It turned out to be false advertising, as they left off the part about only students up to 18 years doing the playing. But he was there, and played a little. It was a bit sad, as he’s slow moving, and I don’t think he has much playing time left in him, or much time at all, actually. A few of the kids had great potential, so I’m glad we went. Of course when we got back we had to go out for dinner at midnight. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we return to Seattle and at midnight on a work day I’m supposed to be asleep for 2 hours already. I’ll just have to adjust.

Ioannina: Psychic Babe parts 1 and 2

After Dodoni, we had a relaxing day byi the lake, where we studied a book about a Pontic refugee “Not Even my Name” written by Thea Halo in English and translated intoi Greek. It is really slow going, but a good exercise for us. We should be finished with it in about 2 years. The lake is filthy, by the way, and one grandfather helped his grandson pee into it as we watched. So the tradition continues…

We also watched tv some. Greek tv is really horrible, even worse than US tv. Most of it is soap operas, “diakopes [vacation] channels” as we call them, and re-runs of awful American movies you never heard of or saw. Still, it’s one way to pick up phrases. We also were interested in seeing the news, and how it’s portrayed here. For example, with the current war in Lebanon, there was no flinching on pictures of the casualties, as there is in the US. It’s basically shown as a pre-planned war against the Palestiinian and Lebanese people. There are aid programs up for Palestiniian children, and the US is thought by most people to be behind the whole thing as well. I think Americans need to travel outside the US more to see just how hated our country is in so many places around the world (the tv has stations from different countries besides Greece).

Since we had a car, we decided the next day to take an excursion on the 14th and visit the Pogoni area near Albania, then to Konitsa, and finish off with a paniyiri somewhere. We have a friend in Seattle, “Cindy” who comes from a village there; she and her husband are wonderful dancers and have been friendly to us. We drove up there to her village, Pogoyiani, and sat down at a cafe in the platia. The only information about her we had(we didn’t even have her real name) was that her brother (whose name we also didn’t know) had gotten married there July 29th. Sandra decided we should ask the trio of cops sitting at the table next to us; “they’ll know everybody.” So, she started it off, and it turns out that only did they know her brother, but he’s a cop too! (border patrol) So, they called him up and he showed up after we had some tsipouro and talked about how about Bush is. He was pleasantly surprised to meet us, and introduced us to his wife. We spent the next several hours with them, back at their house with their extended family, having lunch and looking over pictures. Cindy’s daughter had gotten married last year, and her mother and sister-in-law had come to the wedding in Seattle. We were now at their house, pointing out our faces in their pictures of the wedding. It was all a lot of fun.

Psychic babe event number two occurred in Konitsa. This town flows up the mountain-side in a lovely area, looking west at the mountains on the Albanian border. We were there mostly because Sandra, in reading our guide book several weeks ago, had said, “Konitsa is calling me.” As we walked around, we talked about where we should go that evening for music; we had a few towns in mind, but nothing was particularly compelling. As we walked down one street, we passed someone, and Sandra exclaimed, “That’s Dimitri from Vancouver!” And sure enough it was. Dimitri is very knowledgable about the dance and music of the area, his family comes from here, and we’d seen him and talked with him several times at events in the northwest. I had even tried to get a hold of him before we left for ideas of where to go to hear music. And now, here he was! We had no idea he was even coming to Greece. He was on his way out of town, to a panayiri that night, so the odds of us meeting at all, when you think about it, were pretty remarkable. (For the record, this kind of thing has happened to Sandra many times in the past.)

We met up with him, and his friend Apostolos, a former dancer with Dora Strtou and now a dance teacher and researcher, plus Apostolos’ wife in Pirsoyianni. The village is lovely, with increbile stonework. Apparently, this viillage was the home of all the master masons who used to do stonework throughout Greece. Now, the Greeks hire Albanians, and the former masters sit around and have coffee in cafes (at least, according to our landlord). The music was superb, all acoustic (not just the instruments, but also no mikes), with 2 clarinets, guitar, violin, defi (tambourine) and accordion. Four of the players also sang. Hundreds of people, many expatriates from Australia or the US, sat at tables in the platia close by. It was quite the event, and we left after 5 hours only because we had a long drive home, and we had learned we could see them tomorrow.

We drove all the way up there again the next day, this time up a precarious dirt mountain road that finally compelled me to stop and park and walk the rest of the way (Sandra is not fond, shall we say, of heights, and the exposed nature of this very narrow road was just too much. That she made it as far as she did was quite a feat.) The setting was a forest glade, in which was situated a chapel. Pareas (groups of friends) sat all around, and the band went to each, playing and getting paid, in what was really a continuation of the previous night’s festivities. We decided most of the players were Roma, carrying on this Greek Ipirot tradition. There was complete interaction between the band and the dancers, with most everyone singing, drinking wine, etc. Again, we spent about 5 hours there, and left as things were winding down. That we were able to see any of this was a rare gift, and I spent much time thanking Sandra (after we had both thanked Dimitri) for her unique connection to the universe…

We stopped back in the village for a coffee before the ride back. There we saw the Greek anti-father of the year: young man about 24, smoking next to his wife, also smoking, and on his lap his 18-month old daughter. He takes the cigarette and puts it in his daughter’s hand, mimics smoking, puts the cigarette to her lips, then puffs it himself and blows the smoke in her face. He then takes his beer bottle and puts it to her lips, trying to get her to taste it. I’m sure this kind of behavior is not unique to this guy, or to this Greek guy, and lord knows similar and far worse things happen to kids in the US and other places. But it’s hard not to see this as some kind of microcosm of the state of the culture here regarding smoking and kids, as unfair as such a judgment might be. [edited]

Ioannina, first days

Welcome to Ipiros, where “Your speed is controlled by radar.” (Maybe it’s a chip they put in the rental cars.)

The bus ride from Athens was civilized, with some nice views on the coasts. We didn’t have a room booked in advance, and wandered around for several hours checking out places in the Lonely Planet. Sandra finally talked with one owner who called a hotel that had a room; it turned out that 1) itd was the last hotel in the guide, and 2) It was directly next to the bus station where we started the whole odyssey! But it’s been very nice. It’s run by a Greek born in Russia who studied film in Bulgaria [corrected info] with whom we had an interesting conversation yesterday about art and politics and economics. For example, a small apartment here in Ioannina costs !50,000 euros.

It’s a rich area, in many ways. Lovely land, with mountains and valleys, lots of water, and a long tradition of fine building with stone, which shows in the new homes going up. I’d been in Ioannina 32 years ago, on my own. The city is going through a lot of renovation, with some lovely attention paid to on back streets (stonework iinstead of of asphalt, and slate and stone on the sidewalks). However, it has a graffiti problem. My grandmother’s aunt is buried here somewhere; she was a refugee during the population exchange between Greece and Turkey in the 20’s. There are apparently many villages around Ioannina which were/are “refugee villages” made up predominantly of such from Asia Minor.

Trying to locate music was a bit of an ordeal, but we finally got some help from a very sweet woman at the music conservatory here. She called friends, even the mayor of a small village to get us the places of paniyiria that are happening around this time (August 15 is a big holiday in Greece, with lots of music everywhere, but much of it is not traditional anymore).

One day we visited the Kastro (Castle), built by the Turks. It housed a large part of the city’s Jewish population before the world wars (our hotel is also located in that quarter, outside the walls). 95% of Ioannina’s Jewish population was deported and killed in WW2. With a few exceptions, including the Church, Greece does not have a happy history regarding its Jewish populations of the past. Thessaloniki (”Solun” was one of the old names [corrected]) used to be the major Balkan Jewish center in the past. But they were basically all killed as well. So, guess who got the Jewish businesses and homes? This history is not talked about, as far as we can see, although we did visit the Jewish museum in Athens last year, and there is a professor at the Univeristy of Ioannina who is doing research in this area.

It actually rained one day, all day, so Sandra & I just hung out. We spent a long time eating at our adopted restaurant nearby. The owner and the only waitress are very nice to us. They just work themselves to the bone. He reminded us of our friend Sedat (http://www.palomacafe.com) in Seattle, chatting with all the customers, pouring me unasked for shots of tsipouro (raki on steroids), sitting down with us for a minute, etc.

One of the big excitements of that rainy day occurred when a van double-parked outside the restaurant. The owner got out, opened the back door as if he were delivering something, then wen down the street shopping. Of course a big truck came along and couldn’t get by, causing a massive and noisy traffic jam. He eventually came back, unabashed, and drove off. I might add at this point that the following have no meaning in Greece:

crosswalks
do not enter signs
no passing signs
solid double lines on roads
speed limits
single lane roads
stop signs

Yesterday, we finally broke down and rented a car. Our friend at the conservatory, Dora, had told us that her friend Thanassi had informed her of a clarinet showcase in a village about an hour away that very night. She suggested we rent a car, since the taxi drivers (all 3 of them in that village) would rip us off, even the ones who were friends of hers (Her mother’s family is from that village). It was a good move. We met Thanassi at the village, and spent the next several hours listening to 8 different clarinet players and singers, dancing a little, chatting with the vice-mayor, etc. Two of the players were very good, and they were both Roma. The village is famous for having many Greek musicians, but the Greeks weren’t at the same level, although the Greek singers were better. We met a young man from Jersey who plays clarinet in the states and knew some of the people we did (his father taught Lefteris Bournias). Anyway, it was a very nice time, and we have several more over the next few days.

Today we drove to Dodoni, the site of the first Greek oracle. Actually the history as presented at the site leaves out the first 1500 years of the oracle, which was probably based on an earth goddess (Zeus came in much later), possibly with priestesses from Thebes in Egypt. People mostly marvel at the theater, but the real power was in the original oracle. My guess is that the Zeus-based sanctuary and sacred oak were built over the original, but I can’t prove that. I will have to research it later. The setting was wonderful, a vally nestled underneath towering mountains, so we just spent the entire afternoon there.

Athens/Loutsa

After a remarkably easy ferryboat ride to Athens and a long trip via metro, bus and taxi, we arrived at Sandra’s friend, Anna’s house. Sandra met her on the Magic Bus from Athens to Paris 20 years ago and has stayed in touch. Like us, Anna is a bit of an outsider, taking on the mayor of Loutsa and the Athens airport administration regarding environmental concerns. She’s not only made a name for herself, but she also has won some important visibility for problems the airport is causing locally.

Loutsa is not an attractive town. There’s trash everywhere, and the local government appears to be more interested in raking in dough in exchange for giving up land or hosting, e.g., an enormous sewage treatment plant for neighboring towns. The airport’s had a tremendous impact in noise and aquifer pollution.

We also talked with Anna about the Albanian situation in Greece we’d been hearing about. Albanians appear to rank with most Greeks right up there with Vlachs and cats as the cause of all problems. It reminds me of the way Mexican immigrants are thought of by many in the US. This attitude, plus the apparenly insolent, uncaring and disrespectful attitude of many of the younger Greeks we’d either witnessed ourselves or heard about from others, worries us. When you add these in with the environmental problems, the smoking, and the gradual, insidious Anglicization of the culture, you’re not looking at a pretty future for this country. It really saddens me, since there is so much to love, too. And we have a met a few younger people, like Nasos and Katerina, who are welcome exceptions.

Sandra & I spent our few days there visiting and figuring out how to get to Ipiros. We were misdirected to the wrong bus station by several different people, so now we know how to go anywhere in Greece by bus. We also were recovering from the beach culture of the islands. Athens was pretty empty, but even so we were eager to leave.

Amorgos, final days

After another beach day, Sandra & I made another trip to Hora Wednesday. She stayed there and drew while I took a solo 5-hour hike all the way back to Aegiali. I started off at the monastery whereThe first hour after the monastery was the best, with steep slopes to the sea, goats, and rocky crags on the other side of me, plus no one about. Sandra took the bus back and we met almost simultanesouly in Aegiali for another great lunch. We walked to the beach for a refreshing dip before heading back to our home.

Thursday was our departure day for Katapola, so in the morning we went to pay our bill. The owner, Evi, wanted to give us coffee, but we didn’t have enough time before our bus left. So, instead she gave us rakomelo and a Greek sweet with pistachio nuts. This was our first food and drink of the morning and certainly got me going, I must say.

Katapola is a very laid back place compared to Aegiali, and though it lacks the nice beach so close by that Aegiali has, it’s got it’s own charm. You can also take a boat to some nice beaches at a nearby islet. We didn’t have a place to stay nor did we have ferry tickets to leave for Athens on Saturday. Regarding the latter, we had tried to get some in Aegiali, but the one woman employee there seemed to hate her job and hate everyone, and she told us the ferry was full. She would only speak the bare minimum of words and only smiled when Sandra asked her if there was a non-smoking place on the fast boat that was one option for getting back. Of course, there wasn’t any non-smoking area, because it was immedaitely adjacent and open to the smoking area. She told us to come back every day to check for tickets, so we had to go through this every day for a week. I called her the Sadistic Bitch from Hell and finally gave up on her, because I was convinced that even if there were tickets avvailable, she wouldn’t have sold them to us. It wasn’t much of a downer, to be honest, I just don’t like anyone treating Sandra poorly. And really, just about everyone us we’ve met has been great.

Anyway, we went to the ferry office in Katapola after arriving, and someone had just returned some tickets, so the fellow sold us those and we are set to leave. We couldn’t find a good place, looked at one claustrophobic room, then used our Lonely Planet guide and went to another place on the quieter side of the port. It had a sign on the door saying there were full, but hey, this is Greece, so we knocked and a very nice young woman actually had a room for the nights we needed. And what a room, for the priceof a single, we got a studio apartment! So, a nice way to go out.

T-shirt contender: “Giorgos–f*** off! Markos–come back!: Actually, I think this is a music-related message, referring to Dalaras and Vamvakaris, two rebetika singers of the 90’s and 30’s respectively. Dalaras is reviled by many musicians for the way he sings rebetika and the “Dalarasation” of the music. Vamvakaris is revered, by comparison.

Night out in Katapola: Greek copule sits down for a nice dinner. They don’t talk for the first part of the meal. After eating, each pulls out their cell phone and spends the next  half hour talking to someboady else.

Last night was our last night on the island. The reason we had stayed this long was a concert in Hora by Nikos Ikonomidis, an excellent violinist who was born on one of the small islands near here. After a leisurely day and slow dinner in Hora, we secured some seats near the front of the stage in the platia. Just before showtime a mere 1/2-hour after advertised, our friends Souzana (the woman living in Naxos) and Peggy arrived and found us. We thought they might be coming but hadn’t connected with them due to no Internet. We all sat together and caught up, and then enjoyed the concert. He plays really well, very relaxed, and has a warm, friendly stage presence. He had an excellent young singer with him from Paros. She had a great voice and would dance during his instruments in an unaffected way. The first couple of hours was more of a formal concert. The platia gradually filled to overflowing. Then the dancing in front of the stage started. Young and old, some wonderful dancers, and the musicians really got things going. We heard more songs from Amorgos than previousl, and they really are quite lovely. As much fun as the Naxos songs are, I prefer the few Amorgos ones that seem to be around.

We left after 5 hours to catch the last bus to Katapola, which of course never showed up. A taxi wandered by and we grabbed it, then said goodbye to Souzana and Peggy, as they were leaving on an earlier boat the next day.

I’ve really enjoyed our time here, it’s felt like a real vacation, and the hiking helped me get more cnonected to this island. We’re leaving in a couple of hours to visit a friend of Sandra’s in Athens, then we’re off to Ipiros.