PYRGI'S SUN DRIED Wild Red Tomatoes
by janetanne
Every summer, during the hottest month of August, the women of the village of Pyrgi, gather the ripest, reddest, wild tomatoes from the vines, and string them onto long ropes to be hung on their balconies. As I walked along the narrow streets of this colourful village, besides the 'scratched,'two-toned geometrical designs on practically every wall, there appeared a flash of red colour, as if to accent the monotony of the black and white designs. Red, round spheres of vibrant red tomatoes; Necklaces from the Earth, adorning the balconies above.
If I have learned one lesson when walking through the villages of Greece, it is to always 'look up.' You just never know what or who you will meet from a friendly balcony. Here is where the daily life holds court. This beautiful woman leaned over to answer my 'Kalimera' (Goodmorning) and to chat with a stranger below. She was very eager and proud to explain to me everthing about the planting of these special tomatoes of her village, from the day they are planted and left to ripen without the giving of water, until the day they are harvested and strung on thin ropes to hang on the balconies along the road ways.
I only wish I had asked her what her name was and if she could share her favourite recipe with me, or better yet, where I could taste something made from these tomatoes.
Maybe on my next visit!
FINDING YIANNIS HELLIOS -part 2.
by janetanne
The only employee in charge of the records of Chiot immigrants and emigrants, was unduly unfriendly, to say the least! She was so busy, that after some pleading and trying to express my urgency, she told me that I could go 'by myself' to the room where all the old record books were kept and look through each book to see if my grandfather's name appeared on any of the sheets! Incredible! It is mindboggling to think that anyone can just go in and leaf through such books...but even more mindboggling was the condition of this room! Papers, book, old chairs, rubbish everywhere on the floor! Dust covered everything and it looked like noone had entered this space for at least the last 100 years! A complete disgrace to the shame of the Greek government. I could go on with the diatride, but to no avail, nor to any positive outcome. Needless to say, I found nothing that could prove any relationship of my grandfather to any of the names I did find. There were many Hellios-Helliou's listed, but no 'John/Ioannis Hellios, son of Nicholas and Maria.'
My search continues into the next century!
Here is a photo of my grandfather, somewhere in Greece/Chios? that my mother found in one of our relatives boxes of old photos. On the back was the inscription: John Hellis in the Old Country, age 23.
Human Bones!
by janetanne
Next to the old church of Agia Barbara in Vollisos, you will find another small building. If you are not afraid of old human bones, you can look down into the open door and see the remains of human bones and skulls! It seems that this is where people's bones have been put after they have been removed from the tombs in the cemetery. I didn't, however, see any cemetery in the area, so maybe there is another explanation for these bones being here!
Maybe the elongated front teeth of the neighbours have another story to tell???? Be careful, and make sure you aren't out walking in the night when the moon is full!
Getting to Know the 'Girls.'
by janetanne
'Where is the Postman?' The question repeats itself, every 15 minutes for the next three hours! That's right, THREE HOURS!
But, oh, what lovely three hours those were! Thank you, Agia Ipomoni, for giving me the opportunity to know the lovely ladies from the village of Agia Gala and especially, Kiria Maria, 'The Keeper Of the Key.'
As I sat, in the growing heat of the morning, and as the sun was rising to its pinnacle in the clear blue sky above Agia Gala, I chatted with 'Maria.' I watched as the other ladies, walked back and forth, and as they talked about their daily chores; the bread that was baked; the mid-day meal, yet to be cooked, and 'would there be time? Where was Kiros Costa? How would they have time to finish their work? He was so slow, that postman today? Was there trouble down the road? Was there an accident? Call the next village to see if he had arrived there! No, he hadn't, but call back again in 1/2 hour; he must be on his way!
A little, hunched-over, woman, surely the oldest in the village, passed infront of me. I smiled and said, 'Kalimera!' What fortitude these village women had! Here was a woman, who is any other country, would have been 'safely' 'put-away,' in an 'Old Folks Home,' to die alone far from what had been her familiar, daily routine for more that 80 years! Not so, here in the mountain village of 'Agia Gala,' or for that matter, Not So, in most of the villages of Greece! No, the older people are looked after and taken care of and allowed to be a part of the community with respect and reverance...'Bravo,' I thought to myself! I hope that when I am 85 years old, I will have the strength and 'patience' to stand for 3 hot hours waiting for the postman! I took her photograph to remember the strength, courage, and above all, the 'Patience,' of this beautiful old woman.
Pyrgi
by mixelite
This village in the mastichoria district is famous for its sgrafitti covered houses. Xysta. It is a geometric pattern in grey and white, made by engraving into wet cement. On the town square you'll find a nice, shady places to sit for a drink or a meal.
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