Easter Sunday

Easter Sunday April 24, 2011

A joyous feeling, sitting outside our apartment at Sunrise, watching the ocean below at the bottom of the mountain, a cat prowls for scraps, a wood-fired aroma drifts by - the remnants of Easter lamb, Greek music plays in the distance, the birds sing – it’s dusk and the rest of the Papadoulis family are asleep.  I savour the final moments of a very special day. I feel so honoured and privileged to be a part of the Papadoulis family who have given me such a depth to my relationship to this country.  When I left here in my late 20s I thought I would probably never return, or seldom.  Now a part of the Papadoulis clan I have returned with a new family of my own, and have become part of an extended family here. 

Being a part of a family Easter in Greece is so special – not just celebrating it in Greece, but actually being a part of a household, seeing how they live, understanding their customs and traditions and being honoured in such a special way has been so memorable.   Yianni asked me today if I felt a little bit Greek, and the answer is yes I do.  Frustrating at times, absurd at others, but truly lovable, the Greeks have a way of getting under your skin and grabbing hold of your heart.  I feel so fortunate to now have the experience of family in Greece – all thanks to my wonderful husband and his family.  At Nicko’s house on the hillside with ocean views to one side, and a view of a snow-capped mountain to the other, among the olive groves, there was a sense of peace and serenity.  Watching Bapou in his element with Yianni, Nicko, Arris and the other men at the table talking about the goat and how it was cooked, we all felt the importance of the day and how special it was to everyone there.  And there have been so many moments like that, especially for Bapou.  He spent a night talking with Yianni about old photos he’d brought with him – finally determining who was in them and the connections between their families.  That’s a lifetime search resolved right there.  And another, after communion on Saturday morning, when he emerged with such a smile on his face, exclaiming that it was a wonderful morning.  It’s an honour to have helped Bapou and Yia Yia experience all this – and see their warm glow of appreciation.

Before lunch we all took a walk through the olive groves to a stunning view through the mountains and over a riverbank. Cassie held hands with little Maria and Arris; while Yia Yia and Bapou walked arm in arm, stopping to look at wild rocket, aniseed and carnations (Yia Yia is truly in her element here with the wild herbs and impossibly rich colours of wildflowers, not to mention geraniums and hydrandras which flower profusely in small patches of soil on the roadside or in old oil tins set beside the front door).

The day was deliciously warm, the red wine and raki flowed, the Greek music gave a rhythm to our feasting, and Manny, Yianni and the girls danced.  Meze this time was goat cooked on the barbeque, salad, toasted local bread (dipped in the oil and vinegar mix at the bottom of the greek salad), and tiropita with mushrooms. I was full before we even began! Then it was time for the lamb on the spit, with salad and more bread.  Divine. Bapou was given the honour of the lamb’s head – tongue, brains and all, which is relished.  Then there were home baked easter sweets as well as baklava, and other delights I can’t event name – trays and trays of them, washed down with raki.  A relaxing day, spent with incredible hosts who have worked so hard to make this an Easter we will never forget.

Church last night was a truly unique experience.  Bapou, Manny and I were collected by Yianni and his daughter in law Anundia (short for Constantina).  Another special moment in Church at Easter with Bapou. We arrived around 11.30pm and then on the stroke of midnight the lights inside the church were turned off.  The fight was on for the first holy light from the priest, which then passed quickly through the congregation and spilled out into the courtyard.  Somehow we hadn’t noticed the effigy of Judas in the courtyard until it was lit on fire – the flames threatening two nearby trees until it was doused with a garden house in true Greek style.  Fire crackers, gun fire, fire works, church bells, the Christos Anesti song – a chaotic sensory overload that brought on fearful laughter among Manny, Bapou and I.  We stopped off at Yiannis’ place for takeaway soup, goat and salad for me, then returned to collect Yia Yia so they could continue the festivities well into the early hours of the morning.  Bapou was once again honoured as the head of the household – Anundia kissing his hand before the meal began.

And so to the end of the day... I can still hear children playing nearby, there is a chill in the air, but a promise of warmer weather ahead and the excitement of a new summer with all its possibilities.

For me, this is now Greece – hillsides of wild herbs, goats and shepherds, snow capped mountains, endless olive groves, the rolling ocean, church bells and local music.  I see a deeper beauty here now than I ever have before. It’s not about the good times of summer, it’s about the depth of relationships forged and Crete itself – at once simplicity and chaos combined.