A few days ago I spotted a notice board outside the mini market in the local village of Plaka and was slightly surprised to see that all the notices were in English. I knew that a lot of Brits and other northern Europeans live here, but wasn't aware of just how many and what a varied, lively community they are.
Anyway, the poster that caught my eye advertised an Eisteddfod, with song, music, stories. Intrigued, I phoned. In several days I hadn't spoken to anyone except the dogs - which tends to be a one-way conversation - and the owner of the mini market, so maybe it was time to branch out and socialise. I was told that this would be an event more pagan than Welsh, in the tradition of bards and storytellers. Oh, right up my street then. Before I knew it I heard myself volunteer to take part....
A lift to the venue was organised for me and I found an assortment of friendly Brits, mainly people about my age who have retired to live here, together with a few Greek people, notably Yorgos, who would later be playing drums. He's an educated man, a teacher of Greek who also runs a music cafe-bar and I asked him how local people feel about all these foreigners moving in. "Oh, you British people have saved this area by bringing in money", was his immediate reply. "First, you have houses built and then you buy food and goods and use all the services - it gives employment to a lot of people who had nothing on which to survive except salt from the sea, which they sold."
He observed diplomatically that not all our ways are their ways and that the foreigners will never change Greek culture, but that they are influencing local people on two significant matters - the idea of charitable giving and concern for the environment. The event was in aid of the Chania school for children with learning disabilities - some quite profound - which has recently been starved of government funding due to the economic crisis, the teachers even remaining unpaid for months.
The Brits' environmental concerns have actually influenced local policies, explained Yorgos, not least because there are 600 foreigners registered to vote in the region of Apokoronas, so their voice is heard and noted by politicians.
The event got under way with some excellent folk songs sung a capella, a delightful Yorkshire poem and various readings, all in a relaxed, convivial atmosphere. One highlight was a reading from a memoir by Marie, a lady of 95 who is one quarter Scottish and three-quarters Greek and who grew up locally.
The Brits hung on every word, hungry for insights into Greekness, I felt. This was emphasised by the delight of our hostess (above) at having Greek people play and sing at her house - something she had long dreamed of. Her pleasure was quite touching and it made me feel privileged to have had the Kalymnos experience, where British residents were so few in the early days and we could immerse ourselves in the Greek way of life, music, dance and everything.
Then Yorgos played African drums together with an African man who lives locally and a fellow Greek. They were very, very cool.
In contrast, but equally talented, came Chris, a professional writer and performer who has just published volume 1 of the definitive biography of George Leybourne, the music hall entertainer known as 'Champagne Charlie' and who regaled us with songs and a reading.
And finally, I was asked to do my bit. I had decided to prepare only the outline of 'A Minoan grandmother tells her story' and to wing it, simply speaking from the heart without notes, or rather from the spirit of said Minoan grandmother. I told the story of settling in Crete and establishing a joyful, peaceful, creative way of life and then said that the lies must stop - the lies that say that for humanity a state of self-hatred, inequality, domination, conflict and disparity of resources are inevitable because we've always been that way. The Minoans are proof that we have not and can be humanity's blueprint for change. I found quite a deep well of anger and passion about it - and that seemed to really speak to people, both British and Greek, especially one young Greek woman, who really thanked me afterwards.
The final final pleasure and surprise of the day was that I won the raffle and was really moved to come away with a bright patchwork blanket hand knitted and crocheted by one of the organisers and her elderly mother. Last night I sat outside with the olive trees and birdsong, thinking and reading until it was nearly dark, the blanket wrapped around me like a hug.
Anyway, the poster that caught my eye advertised an Eisteddfod, with song, music, stories. Intrigued, I phoned. In several days I hadn't spoken to anyone except the dogs - which tends to be a one-way conversation - and the owner of the mini market, so maybe it was time to branch out and socialise. I was told that this would be an event more pagan than Welsh, in the tradition of bards and storytellers. Oh, right up my street then. Before I knew it I heard myself volunteer to take part....
A lift to the venue was organised for me and I found an assortment of friendly Brits, mainly people about my age who have retired to live here, together with a few Greek people, notably Yorgos, who would later be playing drums. He's an educated man, a teacher of Greek who also runs a music cafe-bar and I asked him how local people feel about all these foreigners moving in. "Oh, you British people have saved this area by bringing in money", was his immediate reply. "First, you have houses built and then you buy food and goods and use all the services - it gives employment to a lot of people who had nothing on which to survive except salt from the sea, which they sold."
He observed diplomatically that not all our ways are their ways and that the foreigners will never change Greek culture, but that they are influencing local people on two significant matters - the idea of charitable giving and concern for the environment. The event was in aid of the Chania school for children with learning disabilities - some quite profound - which has recently been starved of government funding due to the economic crisis, the teachers even remaining unpaid for months.
The Brits' environmental concerns have actually influenced local policies, explained Yorgos, not least because there are 600 foreigners registered to vote in the region of Apokoronas, so their voice is heard and noted by politicians.
The event got under way with some excellent folk songs sung a capella, a delightful Yorkshire poem and various readings, all in a relaxed, convivial atmosphere. One highlight was a reading from a memoir by Marie, a lady of 95 who is one quarter Scottish and three-quarters Greek and who grew up locally.
The Brits hung on every word, hungry for insights into Greekness, I felt. This was emphasised by the delight of our hostess (above) at having Greek people play and sing at her house - something she had long dreamed of. Her pleasure was quite touching and it made me feel privileged to have had the Kalymnos experience, where British residents were so few in the early days and we could immerse ourselves in the Greek way of life, music, dance and everything.
Then Yorgos played African drums together with an African man who lives locally and a fellow Greek. They were very, very cool.
In contrast, but equally talented, came Chris, a professional writer and performer who has just published volume 1 of the definitive biography of George Leybourne, the music hall entertainer known as 'Champagne Charlie' and who regaled us with songs and a reading.
And finally, I was asked to do my bit. I had decided to prepare only the outline of 'A Minoan grandmother tells her story' and to wing it, simply speaking from the heart without notes, or rather from the spirit of said Minoan grandmother. I told the story of settling in Crete and establishing a joyful, peaceful, creative way of life and then said that the lies must stop - the lies that say that for humanity a state of self-hatred, inequality, domination, conflict and disparity of resources are inevitable because we've always been that way. The Minoans are proof that we have not and can be humanity's blueprint for change. I found quite a deep well of anger and passion about it - and that seemed to really speak to people, both British and Greek, especially one young Greek woman, who really thanked me afterwards.
The final final pleasure and surprise of the day was that I won the raffle and was really moved to come away with a bright patchwork blanket hand knitted and crocheted by one of the organisers and her elderly mother. Last night I sat outside with the olive trees and birdsong, thinking and reading until it was nearly dark, the blanket wrapped around me like a hug.
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