Askeletoura (Ασκελετούρα)

It's askeletoura time in Greece! In the same way, as the pomegranate, this bulbous plant is smashed jut before the new year on the ground before your front door, for good luck!

Askeletetoura, Drimia maritima, is also known by the name of 'skilokromido', which literally means 'dog-onion'. This perennial plant grows up to 50-150cm when in flower, and has a very large bulb diameter of up to 18cm. The large leaves appear after flowering. Inflorescence is large with many white flowers with green or purple veins. It flowers from August to October; now, all we see of it is the leaves. It grows all over the place, especially in undisturbed plots of land which aren't normally cultivated. It's common all over Crete, and in the Mediterranean.

Some of my colleagues at the Mediterranean Agronomic Institute of Chania run a Mediterranean Plant Conservation Unit. They have collected the following information on the traditional uses and folklore surrounding the askeletoura:

Protective properties were attributed to the askeletoura by the ancient Greeks. The askeletoura has served as a good luck charm since ancient timesand it was hung over the doors of houses. A ring dating back to the Minoan period, which was found in Mochlos, Sitia, Crete, clearly shows the bulb of the askeletouras hung above the stern of a ship, and  above the gate which is shown in front of the ship. Even Dioscorides praises this onion hanging over the door, and the great Pythagoras also followed this custom. This giant onion, which survives the summer drought to flower in autumn with its tall floral ears, symbolizes the power that people wanted to pass onto their lands and their homes. For the followers of Hippocrates, the askeletoura was one of the oldest medicinal plants. Athianios mentions it as 'myofonon' (meaning 'mouse poison'). Theophrastus wrote about it in "On Plant Histories". He mentions that it blooms three times a year, it has a high rate of germination in uncultivated fields, it grows and stays ageless, and it transmits its germination rate onto other plants that are growing closely to it. The ease with which it germinates and its agelessness were gifts endowed by Kallo, the fairy of beauty, who had sprinkled holy water over it as she came across it during her strolls in the moutnains and the valleys. This tradition also exists in Crete, which gives rise tot he saying that "the askeletoura never dies and will never disappear from the fields." In older times, people hung the askeletoura on the first of May on the doors of their homes to bring them luck, and on New Year's Day, they hung one in the doorway, for good luck. This New Year's custom continues to this day, but we also smash a the askeletoura (like the pomegranate) at the entrance of the house for good luck.

https://www.facebook.com/maria.verivaki/posts/10211343696885195

Cretan folk healing does not use the plant as an internal medicine. It uses it externally, in bandages of mashed bulbs, as a drug for the treatment of arthritis and rheumatism. The mashed bulbs were also used with flour as a poison against rodents. In September, the askeletoura blooms, bringing forth a long stick full of flowers. When watered, the askeletoura does not bloom; Greece can be very dry in September. Farmers carefully observed the flowering of the askeletoura. When the floral stem of the askeletouras was looking very bright and full of flowers, the barley yield would be good. In the year when it did produce a stem, farmers believed that the crop would be destroyed. In the area of ​​Rethymno, Crete, when the 'lantzouni' (as they called the stem) was full of flowers, they would understand that the winter would be heavy, while when it was half full, the winter would not be so cold. Children used the dried stems as a toy, making various objects with them. The askeletoura is also a very good bee plant, as it contains a lot of nectar. 

In this world full of prophecies of doom and gloom, it's reassuring to see the askeletoura continuing to grow undisturbed, despite the calamities that have befallen Earth, our only home. Its constant presence is a sign of great hope. 

KAΛΗ ΧΡΟΝΙΑ!
Happy New Year!

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Ever the optimist

Last year was bad, I hear them say,
But full of optimisim,
I say they turned it out that way
With their desires and whims.

It's not about the things you want

And those that you can't have,
Remember all that you can have
And learn to live with that.

Content'dness is quite challenging
When you feel impoverished,
But if you're reading my updates,
Most likely you're quite rich.

Should it get better nonetheless?
That may lie in your choices.
It's not your government to blame
For your unrealistic wishes.

So here's to 2016,
A new year full of hope.
Try being more sustainable,
Not bloated, fat with growth.

There are two things I wish for you
As the new year checks in:
May you be poor in pain and loss
And rich in happy things.*

Καλή Χρονιά! - Happy New Year!

*This verse is a translation of the mantinada in the image.

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2015: the loss of fear

What a year. What a Greek year. A year of Greece making a daily appearance in the headlines on the front (home) page of international newspapers (websites). It made Greeks wonder: "What did we do now?" A year of the fear of not knowing if we were 'in' or 'out': 'Where do we belong?" A year of social upheaval: "What's going to happen next?" As we wondered what the answers were to these questions, we began to fear our multiple losses: the loss of commonly-held beliefs and comforts.

The international press is now blaring out the main news reviews, the stories of the year that made headlines, like they do at the end of every year: Greece still plays a prominent role in them. Stories about the global economy are rife with references to Greece; the world learnt about OXI thanks to Greece; the refugee crisis played out its beginnings in Greece. As it all unfolded in Greece, the world watched on, fearing their own potential losses.

Πώς μας τη φτιάξαν τη ζωή - How they have shaped our lives

μίση πολέμοι και καπνοί - Hatred, wars and smoke

βρωμίζει ο φασισμός τη γη -  The world stinks of fascism 

σαν κότες σφάζονται οι λαοί - Nations are being slaughtered like chickens

κι εμείς στον ύπνο το βαθύ - While we remain deep in our sleep
Ξυπνήστε (Wake up) by Πάνος Τζαβέλας (Panos Tzavelas), 1975
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM0tsZYwouU

In a country faced with so much upheaval, anything and everything could have gone wrong. Thankfully, it didn't. It didn't go wrong when the hashtagged OXI morphed in such a way that it looked like it meant YES: that made little difference to the way OXI shaped world thought.

OXI: Paris, Berlin, London. 

It hasn't even gone wrong when a left government changed direction and turned right to find the centre: it still refused to be 'tied' up. Not even when a million people whose names you don't know land in your country and beg for your help: not only do you let them in, but they still keep coming.

Syriza's actions a source of derision: this image sums up my reason for voting OXI in the Greek referendum of July 2015. 

The period leading up to the referendum was confusing to say the least - six months later, we can say that we have refound our centre ground. When you realise that your fear of everything going wrong proved to be nothing less than a fear of fear, you stop fearing. Our greatest fear is the fear of unknown difficulties. But life was never easy for most of us, and it continues this way to the present day.

Ενα το χελιδόνι κι η άνοιξη ακριβή - Only one swallow makes spring expensive

για να γυρίσει ο ήλιος θέλει δουλειά πολλή - A lot of work is needed for the sun to turn

Θέλει νεκροί χιλιάδες να 'ναι στους τροχούς - Thousands of dead are needed to turn the wheels

Θέλει κι οι ζωντανοί να δίνουν το αίμα τους. - While the living have to give up their blood.
Ενα το χελιδόνι  (One swallow) by Οδυσσέας Ελύτης (Odiseas Elitis - lyrics) and Μίκης Θεοδωράκης (Mikis theodorakis - music), 1964
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTReB0eakWQ

For most people, it's hard to see a bright future after six years of economic recession and political stalemate. It's easier to believe that there is no end in sight, that the depression will go on forever. But depressions, recessions and wars do not go on forever. Eventually they stop, and it is necessary to be prepared for their end, otherwise we will be standing among the ruins, not knowing which way to turn. Our main concern during such difficulties is the thought of loss: we count our losses by worrying about the level of impoverishment that we suffer. For Greece, these losses have led to a highly necessary personal and political reappraisal in order to be able to face the hardships to come, which will end the economic and political stagnancy. To see the future more clearly, we need to analyse our losses. 

Most people in Greece will equate the idea of losses with reductions in income. Why did we lose such a great portion of our income? Greed plays a big role in Money's decision to leave Greece. Money stopped coming here, and what little was left of it was taken out of the country. If we want Money to come back, we need to find ways to keep it here, as well as to keep it coming.

Apart from money, we also lost a lot of people. Many people couldn't cope with their losses. Some left for another world, others left for another country. You will often hear people saying: Τί έκανε η χώρα μου για μένα; (What did my country do for me?) Many people think that their country has not done enough to keep them here, that their country has not respected them in some way. Maybe they are asking the wrong question: perhaps they should be asking Τί έκανα εγώ για την χώρα μου; (What did I do for my country?) What do the people themselves do so that their country can keep them here? All wars suffer human losses - the first such losses signal the need for the reappraisal of our values and identity.

 Πάλης ξεκίνημα νέοι αγώνες οδηγοί της ελπίδας οι πρώτοι νεκροί. - The start of a struggle, new battles: the first dead are the leaders of hope 

Όχι άλλα δάκρυα κλείσαν οι τάφοι λευτεριάς λίπασμα οι πρώτοι νεκροί. - No more tears, the tombstones are laid: the first dead become the fertlisers of freedom

Λουλούδι φωτιάς βγαίνει στους τάφους μήνυμα στέλνουν οι πρώτοι νεκροί. - A flower of fire springs forth from their graves: the first dead are sending a message

Απάντηση θα πάρουν ενότητα κι αγώνα για νά `βρουν ανάπαυση οι πρώτοι νεκροί. - For the first dead to rest in peace, they will receive an answer of unity and struggle.

Οι πρώτοι νεκροί (The first dead) by Αλέκος Παναγούλης (Alekos Panagoulis - lyrics) and Μίκης Θεοδωράκης (Mikis theodorakis - music), 1974

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8lo9oxpiJ0

This reappraisal of values and identity leads perhaps to the greatest loss that we fear: the loss of dignity. If we can put aside the loss of our personal dignity (for example, buying supermarket own brands instead of branded products), we can look at the higher level of the dignity of our country. The refugee crisis showed Greece to be the most humane country in Europe: having lost everything, the people still found something left to give. 

This is the moment to remember the words of the famous Cretan writer Nikos Kazantzakis, often remembered for the quote: "I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free." The full quote in context is as follows:

Ξερω τωρα,δεν ελπιζω τιποτα,δε φοβουμαι τιποτα,λυτρωθηκα απο το νου κι απο την καρδια,ανεβηκα πιο πανω,ειμαι λευτερος.Αυτο θελω.Δε θελω τιποτα αλλο.Ζητουσα ελευθερια.

Now I know, I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I was liberated from the mind and the heart, I climbed higher up, I am free. That's what I want. I don't want anything else. I just wanted freedom.

- excerpt from Ascetic, an essay by Nikos Kazantzakis, 1883-1957

What a year it was for Greece. The year Greece stopped fearing. The loss of fear is the highest order of loss. But we have to remember the gains: the Greek Parliament voted in cohabitation agreements for same-sex couples: for a country supposedly ruled by a religious organisation, this kind of move reveals quite the opposite to be true. It can only get better.

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Food for the brain

Belated Happy New Year to everyone.

We still haven't cut the vasilopita in our house, so we ourselves are slightly delayed in our own celebration of the change in the year. We were rather busy (over-)enjoying ourselves during the festive period.

A very educational meal at a Pret-a-manger outlet near Hyde Park: The choices were made by myself, so that the family could experience 'alternative' food. Crisps need not be potatoes; I also introduced them to the idea of 'corporate responsibility' towards a society (stuff I know about, 'cos I proofread Master's students' theses about them). Total cost for 4 hot drinks, 4 wraps/sandwiches and two packs of crisps: 24.50 pounds.

On reflection, my decision to the take the family to London during this time was the best decision I ever made in my life. It was based on a number of factors, mainly that of creating one's own happiness, which I feel need to be written down for the record, so that those who read this in the future (hopefully, my son and daughter) will remember how and why their mother made the (extravagant-sounding) decision to take the family on a (second) holiday abroad.

My favorite fresh market is the Lewisham street market - it is very cheap (most stuff is sold in bowls, all for just 1 pound), and this Christmas, I got to try brussel sprouts, kale, parsnips, swedes and turnips, some of which I added to a roast with a chicken (3.50 pounds).

The most important reason for my rather last-minute New Year's plans was to show my children (primarily) that life is dull, boring, sad, etc only if you allow it to be. As I said in my last post for 2014, Life doesn't always go as planned... You may or may not be the perpetrator of all your own misery, but you can usually be the creator of all your own happiness. But nothing will happen if you don't plan it to take place, which may mean that you have to act in an original way, perhaps appearing unpredictable among your friends and family. In most cases, you can envisage the consequences of most of your actions: if they seem dull, boring, sad, etc, then try to change your actions and behaviour before the consequences become history.

Battersea Pie company in Covent Garden, New Year's Eve - I grew up in New Zealand savouring the taste of steak and kidney pie and Cornish pasty. Total cost: 20 pounds (with a cup of tea). 

Despite the pervading belief in the west that Christmas is now far removed from its religious context, it is still one of the biggest events of the year. (In Greece, Easter is far more important than Christmas.) But Christmas is actually a very quiet time in Crete. Some small events take place for Christmas, but they do not penetrate society in the same way that Christmas events do in western countries. Hence, Christmas/New Year's time is not really very exciting in Hania.

The best souvlaki we have ever tasted is found in Camden market. Souvlaki Superstars import all their meat and pita from Greece. They have been there for two years, but they are unsure of their future now that the Camden markets have been sold to developers - this part of the market will be the first to go. It's a difficult time for them, as they moved on from their own country only to be moved on in their new one. 3.50 per large souvlaki, much larger than the ones we normally eat in Hania.

Staying in Hania for the New Year almost ripped my heart out this year. I can't fool my kids anymore during these festive periods. Gone are the times when I'd take them into the town and say "Look! The Christmas tree! And the boat! And here's Santa!" They don't fall for that any longer. The town is gaudily tinsel-clad, the events that take place in the town are usually geared towards young children, our friends are very predictable in their habits, the food always consists of standard Cretan menu items (unless I am the host for the day, but I knew I couldn't have this happen this year for various reasons: one friend has developed a fear of driving, while the other always prefers the ancestral village home in the mountains), and in short, a certain misery pervades, often caused by cold weather and a belief that life is bad. Among people who own their own home, don't have debts, have a job, eat high quality food and can afford to educate their kids, I'd say that these folks really have no understanding of true misery. This year, I had to get out of here, even if it meant on my own.

The cheapest time to enjoy Christmas pudding is ... after Christmas, when it's discounted by 50% at the supermarket! Sticky toffee apple pudding, with clotted cream and last season's foraged blackberries. Total cost: 7 pounds.

Giving my children a wider experience of the world has always been a priority. This is how they will become well educated. Greek schools do not give many opportunities for mental stimulation.  My children are not born geniuses, but their school grades are very good. This has something to do with the Greek education system. It's ... predictable (it is all based on set textbooks). I use my knowledge of this predictability, and steer my children's learning around being prepared not just for the lessons they are learning, but the lessons that will come. Hence their good grades. They do not have preparatory classes, extra lessons, outside help, gadgets, or whatever else it takes to give them the upper edge - they just have better planning skills, and a wider experience of the world. It is difficult to find suitable rewards for this: good planning skills are rarely rewarded in Greece, primarily because they are not found in a text book. There is so much junk that we can buy for kids, most of which will be used once or twice, before it takes refuge in a dark corner, and will not come back into use for a while. A stimulating holiday with many new experiences will forever remain etched in their minds.

Best meal out ever: fish and chips in Brighton. My kids learnt a lot of things about British food during this wonderful experience. Total cost of meal: 37.50 pounds. 

Above all, we have gracious hosts in London. They like our independence when we stay with them. so that they can do their own thing while we come and go, doing our own thing and meeting back at their place for a meal. This year we prepared communal meals nearly every day with them. (Eating out in London can be ridiculously expensive.) The nicest thing that they said to me this time was: "It's really good that you can always find something new to do while you are here and you are never bored." I take it that this means that we can come back again, with our gifts of freshly pressed olive oil and home cooking. Without this free accommodation, I probably would not have the opportunity to visit a very different world to my own - but I'm sure I would still be finding ways to make my own and my family's life happier.

Bonus photos: As a teacher, I couldn't help posing brain teasers to my son who wanted to visit the public library in Lewisham. So I asked him questions like 'What might Gay and Lesbian contain?', 'Why might the book Gay Life and Culture be located in the Politics section instead of Gay and Lesbian?', 'What about Sex Life? Why is that in the 'Psychology' section?'

I think I'm a good teacher for teaching people about alternative views, perhaps because I'm a little alternative myself, despite my conservative background. You can't get this sort of social education in Hania, 'cos there's no reference starting point for it to begin with. Ignorance causes the biggest problems in society, which is the basis of western-style humour, as we have seen throughout this year's holiday period.

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New Year's Eve (Παραμονή Πρωτοχρονιάς)

I suppose I could do a million things on New Year's Eve, like book a table at a restaurant (too expensive), go to a party (I haven't been invited), stage a party (everyone's going to other parties), or go to the town centre (and stand in the cold and rainy weather outside the Agora till the New Year rings in), but I prefer to spend it at my comfortable warm home, in my peace and quiet, being silly with my family. It's what comes from having a small family with few relatives at the same stage in life as we are in. Nearly all our friends keep things in the family, as do most people living in Crete, once they settle down with families of their own.

Card-playing is common on this night as a Greek New Year's Eve tradition, as we wait for St Basil to come tomorrow, some time after we go to sleep, hopefully carrying some presents. I've got a lunch party planned at my place tomorrow, so I will find myself pre-occupied preparing food until then. And when the New Year comes, I'll probably find myself looking at the fireworks from the panoramic view my balcony affords me, as my husband shoots blanks in the air.

Here are a few jokes to add a bit of silliness to your evening wherever you are - they all come from the old-fashioned (but much-loved by the Greek diaspora) iconic Greek page-a-day calendar, which is found at all stationery-cum-bookshop stores all over Greece. You won't find it at the 'purely-for-book-lovers' bookshops in Athens, though; it's one of those things that separates the urbanite from the rural at heart, The page-a-day calendar was a recipe-based one, which included some food jokes.

Enjoy... and Happy New Year.

Strawberries
Someone is passing outside Dimitraki's house, holding a large sack on his shoulder.
“What are you carrying there?” asked Dimitraki.
“Manure, to put on my strawberries,” the passerby tells him.
“Hmm,” says Dimitraki, “I put sugar on my mine!”

Chemistry
“Dimitraki,” the chemistry teacher says, “Tell us what sulphuric acid is.”
“Er, yes,” mumbled Dimitraki, “it’s… it’s… it’s on the tip of my tongue—“
“Spit it out quickly, boy! It’s poisonous!”

Coca-cola

Dimitraki’s dad sent him to the mini-market to buy some coca-cola. Dimitrakis entered the butcher’s by mistake. Not having realize where he was, he asked the butcher for some coca-cola. The butcher tells him that he doesn’t have anym and Dimitraki leaves. He goes home and tells his dad that the shop doesn’t have any coca-cola. His dad tells him to go again, so Dimitraki goes to the same shop and again asks for coca-cola. The butcher was angry and told him not to ask him the same question again, otherwise he’ll hang Dimitraki upside down. Dimitraki sees a sheep hanging upside down; on hearing that he will be hung upside down, he asks it: “Did you ask for coca-cola, too?”

Mother

“Dimitraki, do you say your prayers before you sit down for a meal?”
“No,” says Dimitraki, “I don’t need to, because my mum is a really good cook!”

Greengrocer
Dimitraki isn’t very good with sums, so his mum tries to help him.
“Let’s say that you are a greengrocer and I am your customer. I buy 1kg potatoes that cost 100 drachmas a kilo, and 1kg tomatoes that cost 200 drachmas a kilo. How much money must I give you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dimitraki answered. “You can pay me tomorrow.”

Milk
Dimitraki’s teacher asks him:
“Why is your essay on the topic of ‘milk’ so short? Did you run out of things to write about?”
“No,” Dimitraki answers, “but I wanted to write about the condensed version.”

Hungry
Dimitraki was going for a walk with his dad. Before they set off, his dad told him to shine his shoes.
“They’ll just get dirty again, dad,” Dimitraki said.
After they came back home from the walk, Dimitraki told his dad that he was hungry.
“Well, Dimitraki, there’s no need to eat now, since you’re just going to get hungry again later!”

Fisherman
Dimitraki’s mother is giving her son some advice. “Dimitraki, to succeed in life, you must have patience, like that fisherman there, for example, who is sitting so patiently, and fishing for hours, to make his daily bread.” “Really mummy,” Dimitraki was amazed. “Since when did the sea start producing bread?”

Καλή Χρονιά!

Happy New Year!.

©All Rights Reserved/Organically cooked. No part of this blog may be reproduced and/or copied by any means without prior consent from Maria Verivaki.

Culture clash

Summer clothes? What was I thinking?!

The last time I was in New Zealand, I realised how much I had gotten un-used to Kiwiland. We had arrived in mid-December, the start of a Kiwi summer. I recall feeling very cold in the first few days as I had forgotten what a Kiwi summer was like, and had bought Greek summer clothes with me (what on earth was I thinking!). Thankfully, it was sunny the moment we arrived in Wellington, and I recall that the first thing I wanted to do as soon as I stepped foot in the city of my birth was to take a walk in the town centre.

A deja vu moment: Cuba Mall bucket fountain

I left my aunt's house and walked along the neighbourhood where I had grown up. Not much had changed in my absence, and most of it was familiar to me. After a trot starting from Courtenay Place through Manners Mall, and then down Willis St moving onto Lambton Quay (and back again), I felt a bit jaded, like an experience of deja vu,as if I were awake in my dreams. For some reason, the walk was over too quickly. But I distinctly remembered it as a longer route when I was living here. What's more, it did not give me that feeling of 'Wow, man, I'm home again!!!!!!!!' I felt more like a guest than a local.

As we were in New Zealand during the New Year period (2003, moving on to 2004), it was a chance for my husband (first time in NZ) to experience this period away from Greece. His first reaction was 'Don't they sing the carols here?' As far as I could remember, they don't, but we did, the Greek comunit members, among themselves. And in the evening, we'd all meet up again at the New Years Ball. We never mingled with non-Greeks. My husband thought he was going to be introduced to some Kiwi New Year customs. I found myself in a difficult position; I explained to him that I never did any really Kiwi things on New Year's Eve when I used to live in New Zealand. Every year, we would attend the annual Greek New Year's Eve ball, and celebrate the coming of the New Year among other Greeks.

During my visit to NZ, I noticed how Lord of the Rings dominated NZ culture - it was everywhere: at the airport...

At the time, we had been married for less than five years, and we were still at the discovery stage of our relationship, where a trivial incident, something as innocent as a stroll along the road, could be a precursor to uncover an important personality trait about each other, not such a trite detail given that we came from vastly different continents. Despite our overwhelmingly similar origins (we were both descendants of Cretans), there were still many things that we did not know about each other.

... at the cinema where LOTR premiered...

But what happens on the street, in the town, outdoors, when the clocks strike midnight? he wondered. In all honestly, I didn't know. What I did know was that I did not fancy turning up to a Greek New Year's Eve ball in New Zealand, because I felt unprepared for it. It had been a long time since I had worn formal evening clothes, pairing shoes with bags, and sitting by a table full of buffet-style food listening to bouzouki music all evening, while watching people dancing the Kalamatiano. Another deja vu moment. Had I really come such a long way just to do what I had been doing all those years ago? I wasn't ready to get back into that routine, and besides, I was on holiday. I decided to discover, together with my husband, what Kiwis (as opposed to Greek Kiwis) did on New Year's Eve.

New Year's Eve 2003, Pigeon Park, Wellington

I heard on a ZB radio station that somewhere near Pigeon Park, an event - something like a parade - would be staged to welcome the New Year. So we put the kids to bed early, then left them in the care of my aunt (she didn't want to go to the ball either) where we were staying, and walked down to Pigeon Park. Already, many people had gathered, cordoned off on the footpaths by the police, who maintained a strong but not so intense presence. I looked around at the sea of faces, trying to ignore the sight of the beer bottles that many people were carrying in their hands as they drank on the street, straight from the bottle. All my time in NZ, I had avoided this particular element of Kiwi society. But there was a difference between me and my husband in the way we viewed those people carrying the bottles: my husband had never seen this kind of behaviour (it's extremely rare for people to swig alcohol while walking along the street in Crete), so he treated it as a novelty, whereas I was familiar with it, and I knew the consequences.

... in public spaces... 

Even before the parade started, people were throwing bottles onto the road. Every time a bottle was smashed, no more than two minutes would pass before a rubbish truck drove by and swept away the smithereens. An ambulance would drive past every now and then in case of injuries. And of course, the police presence was raised at the point where the bottles were being smashed. I remember the policemen holding their walkie-talkies close to their ears, communicating with other officials every step of the way.

Is this what Kiwis call entertainment? my husband mocked. I didn't really feel comfortable where we were standing. Of course, it all looked safe on the surface, but you never really knew where trouble would break out. While my husband was trying to make sense of what was going on, I was having a panic attack. I didn't want to be where I was. We moved away from the main crowd, towards the quay by the harbour instead. We didn't stay for the parade.

Sign outside bookshop: "8 1/2 hobbits buy their books here!"

The roads got quieter. We caught glimpses of people in drinking holes (pubs? bars? I don't know what they're called in NZ these days), standing up at the counter where the drinks were being served. As we walked, we discusssed what we had just witnessed. It was his first time seeing people consuming alcohol in the street, and more importantly, without any food to accompany the drink. I explained that what he had experienced had nothing to do with my own experiences of life in NZ during the 25 years I spent in the country. It wasn't something Greeks did. It was a kind of behaviour associated with the pakeha majority, and not the minority groups that made up the NZ population. It was also one of the reasons why my parents never integrated into the Kiwi way of life. They could not fit into such a culture.

Sign outside chiropractor's: "Hobbit feet? How about Reflexology?"

It was a beautiful evening, something one cannot take for granted in NZ, even in the summertime. We continued walking along the sea, near Oriental Bay, one of my old haunts, where I used to go jogging. It was a lot quieter here, as it wasn't on the parade itinerary. Suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere. He had jumped onto the road, coming from behind a tree, and he was doing up his trousers. I'm really very sorry, please excuse me, he said to us as he scurried away.

Eventually, we saw fireworks going off, a sign that the clock had struck midnight, and the New Year had arrived. After a kiss as we wished each other a Happy New Year, my husband took out his cellphone and called his mother in Greece to wish her Happy New Year, even though there were still 11 hours to go before she would welcome the New Year in Greece. We walked back home in baffled silence, trying to comprehend what we had just experienced. Our route took us past the Greek community centre, where the annual ball was taking place. Although I was glad I hadn't gone to it, I couldn't help wondering if that was where I was supposed to have been that night.

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The carols season (Κάλαντα)

+Gregory Pappas recently wrote: I can't get one thing out of my mind today and have to share it, especially with people who know my commitment to "all things Greek." One of the most profound things I have read this year-- and perhaps ever-- came in Father Alex Karloutsos' annual Christmas message that he sends every year to his friends and family: “Why is it that we insist on giving our children everything our parents could not afford to give us and yet desist from giving them the priceless things of value that our parents did give us – our faith, culture and legacy?” These words inspired me to write this story.

The kids wanted to do the 'kalanta' thing; that is, sing the Christmas carols on the street, as is the tradition in Greece on Christmas and New Year's Eve. They've never done it, and they've heard from their school friends that they make money. My own children sing the carols to their grandmother and a couple of other relatives, and that's it because we don't have a huge circle of friends and family living close by to make this exchange; the scratch-my-back syndrome is now on the wane, at any rate. But clanging on a triangle and traipsing around town (often in the cold) is not my idea of a fun kids' activity. We live in a rural area, so it's not even easy to do this. Letting kids loose on the street in the town in an area we do not live in oursleves does not make me feel safe. The truth is that there is only one reason you do this for: to make money. And in this day and age, it is difficult to gauge who has spare change to give and who doesn't.

Winter life on Crete - damp but green, almost everywhere.

Athens 1960

On the morning of Christmas Eve, I woke up late because I was catching up on lost sleep from previous nights. I am on leave and enjoy the luxury of not having to keep checking the alarm clock to see what time it is. In fact, I took it out of the plug on purpose because I was sick of having it stare at me in the face. A call woke me up at 10am, my tenant in the town centre. She had just returned form a trip to her homeland, Albania, and wanted to pay me this month's rent. It doesn't worry me when the rent is paid by Dhanggit. The rent is always 'late', but she never ends up owing me anything. She hates banks, doesn't understand how to use cash machines, and prefers tangible money to plastic money. So she calls me some time in the month and tells me when to come and pick up the rent.

Karagiozis

By the time I was ready to leave the house, some carollers had come to our place, a few more than previous years, which is not surprising given the economic climate, but it was a hilly climb to get to our house: they earned their €1 each just by walking up the hill. The change box is always ready at this time of year in our house; €1 per caroller, €1 extra for any gimmicks. Τhe same children come every year, children who we never see at other times during the year. My kids watched the others come and go, and kept pestering when they could do the same. We live in a rural neighbourhood. Houses are furhter apart in the villages. Christmas carolling is done on a more private basis in our area - grandparents listen to grandchildren, while some of the more adventurous trot around in the cold and knock hopefully on doors, to earn a euro a head. It's difficult to make them understand why I didn't want them to do this.

I asked them if they wanted to come with me to see Dhanggit. They like visiting her becuase she has two gorgeous friendly dogs. They came for the ride, and asked me if they could sing the carols to Dhanggit. Again, I couldn't expalin why I would prefer that we did not do this - it would look like I was visiting her to make money. Dhanggit is not rich. She is not even comfortable. But my kids can't see this, possibly because we live very frugally like Dhanggit and her family. But there are major differences between my life and Dhanggit's. I let the kids take their Santa caps and triangles, and decided to see what develops rather than get too bossy.

The Greek Christmas symbol - the boat

When I visit Dhanggit, I always carry some garden vegetables to give her, whatever is in season. Today, it was a broccoli, a cabbage and a cauliflower which I picked from the garden. As we drove towards the town, we noticed a number of children on the road wearing Santa caps and holding triangles, often in pairs or groups of 3-4, but some were alone. Να τα πούμε could be heard everywhere. Some kids were clearly too young to be crossing the very busy road on their own. Others were looking around at the houses, wondering which door to knock. Some were knocking on doors that wouldn't open (not everyone opens their doors to carollers). Some had gimmicks - a Santa suit or a musical instrument were the most common items. One little group of girls was wheeling a disabled child on a street that lacked a firm footpath.

Athens 1950

Wouldn't you be scared if you were on your own carrying money in the street? I asked my kids. Everyone knows your pockets and bags would be full. How would you feel? They showed signs of the message sinking in: carolling is not a picnic, after all. It's all a question of risk, I suppose, and also need. Some people may feel that they need to do this. Others, like me, prefer to keep things in the family.

Singing the Chrsitmas carols door to door has never been easy in Greece, despite the fact that it is seen as a tradition and a rite of passage in some way, because everyone sings the carols in some form, and for the same purpose in mind at some point in their life. According to the folklorist Dimitris Loukatos (in his book Χριστουγεννιάτικα και των γιορτών, 1984), the carols season is a time when children go to places that are forbidden to them at other times, when they would normally be chased away by the caretakers or owners. The first child to knock on the door of a house (whether shyly or courageously) is usually the luckiest because it is treated as a charity act. Carol singing was a trend of smaller villages, brought down to the city as people became richer and could afford to give more. It was done on the evening of Christmas Eve, but with the knowledge of making a profit, the singing started even earlier during the day, to give children more time to reap the benefits.

Children in Athens have always had it tough:

"Apartment blocks are like fortified castles with their caretakers. They require energy to conquer. The large shops are better. The storekeepers are more freindly, traditional, nostalgic, they would not turn down a child, at least the first few chidlren, they will allow them to sing thier blessings and take the lucky tip. They will enter teh buses too, a new form of greek traditional life, a confined space and time to make contact with people. The conductor, a child of the nation himself, will welcome them with a laugh, if he rememebers that he too used to sing the carols when he was young... But no one will turn a blind eye to the abuser, which has invaded this cutsom in the last few years. The indirect goal of begging, omnipresent in all peoples and periods, has now become a direct goal. The tradition has entered the service of profit. Trends in miniatrue, which not even formal tourism cannot avoid. near the children have sprouted, with persistent competition, the adults, associations, brotherhoods, groups of misfortunate. The picturesque children ... are now concealed by robotic gramophones and their noisy orchestras..."

We arrived at Dhanggit's, where I lay down my bags of vegetables in her cosy kitchen, which had once been my own kitchen. She welcomed us from the back door (our secret signal that we are not strangers knocking on her inner city house). The kids looked around for her dogs, which came yapping into the kitchen on the sound of strangers' voices. Since she settled in Crete with her husband and two sons, Dhanggit hasn't been anywhere further than the town centre. She had not been back to her homeland since that rainy day when she crossed the mountains separating Greece from Albania 13 years ago, holding a baby wrapped in a blanket and a very young son trailing her.

Children saying the carols in the region of Selino, Crete, accompanied by the Cretan lyre, 1983. 

Notice the plastic and metal canisters - in Crete's recent past, children were given olive oil (not money!) to sing the carols, and cakes.

I expected that she would have a lot to tell me. But the news was not good. She described a kind of misery that she encoutered in her homeland that is difficult to describe. I found it hard to believe this, as Albania is a neighbouring country to Greece and very close to Italy, which is supposedly the world's 8th largest economy. When global leaders talk about the crisis in Europe, Albania never gets a mention. All this talk of European development is clearly elitist. Some European countries will never be given a chance to develop.

We also hear stories from the media (both foreign and national) about Albanians leaving Greece during the crisis to go back home, which don't quite fit with the stories I was now hearing from Dhanggit. To cut a long story short, she spoke of extreme hardship which are not comparable to what the Greeks are complaining about. It's difficult to put it all into words; I'm good at recording details, but this story got the better of me. All this while, my kids listened in fascination. I watched their wide eyes and speechless mouths as they listened attentively to Dhanggit's recounting her experiences in the homeland. It's the first time they heard someone other than tbeir grandmother relating stories of poverty and hardship.

Nikiforos Litras, 1872

The most poignant story we heard about concerned food. It's just not as free and easy in Albania to feed yourself, even in self-sufficiency style, as we do in Crete. Here, you will never go hungry, Maria, Dhanggit insisted. People give you food all the time, they leave things on my door. Sometimes I don't even know who left it. Your former neighbours are always dropping by to give me something. This could never happen in Albania. Everything is expensive to buy and difficult to cultivate without machinery or money for petrol, if we had the machines to do it. I feel rich living in Crete. Your house is now my only home. I have no other.

Christmas in Athens, when kourambiedes were being sold for 80 drachmas per oka

- they now cost €8-10 per kilo! The photo below shows Christmas in Athens, 1960. Both photos can be bought from the Benaki Museum.

The children did not make any move to sing the carols, even though they were carrying their triangles. I feel that this was the best Christmas lesson they had had so far in their lives. It helped that it was told by someone other than their parents. We don't want to listen to our parents, because they sometimes sound harsh. But when we hear it from a stranger, we know they are not lying.

When we left Dhanggit's house, my children asked me how Dhanggit pays the rent if she is very poor. I told them I couldn't answer that, because I don't really know what money the family makes. It's obvious though that they are poor people. I reminded them that there was a time in the recent past when they didn't always have money to pay the rent since the economic crisis broke out. If worse comes to worst, they would simply live in the house rent-free, and we will wait for better times.

A custom of Hania on Christmas Eve is to have a seafood meal in the Agora, which was set up specifically for this event once the commercial shopping hours closed. The scene here (taken from this year's get-together) does not look Christmassy - only one tiny tree hints at the season. Instead, it shows happy people celebrating in the usual way they do every year at this time. Christmas is not so commercial in our town.

As we left Dhanggit's, I noticed a cabbage in a supermarket bag lying in the corner of her kitchen. It had the price tag on it - €0.89. I joked with Dhanggit that she needn't have bought it, had she known I would bring her one. Oh, I didn't buy that, Dhanggit said. Kiria Irene from across the road bought it for me. She said she missed us while we were away, and she didn't have anyhting to give me right now, so she just gave me whatever she had lying in her house at that moment.

The children didn't seem to notice the remaining carol singers on the road after we left Dhanggit's. When we got home, they seemed content to be back to their cosy warm house. They related the stories they heard to their father round the table at lunchtime. I don't know how long the message they got will be remembered, but they may need a new lesson every now and then in a different form to jog their memories. Let's hope they remember on New Year's Eve when the next round of 'kalanta' comes up.

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Dream interpreter (Ονειροκρίτης)

The new year's calendar selections in the bookshops present no surprises. The over-priced wall calendars consist of glossy tourist photos of Greece, presenting the country in all its dream-like glory, often centred around a Greek theme (eg Crete, cats, donkeys, etc). The dates are printed in little boxes in the classic style of a calendar, but no mention is made of the importance of the day, except perhaps by shading the boxes in a different colour to highlight the weekend or a public holiday. Wall calendars that include all the feastdays written in the boxes are more difficult to find: they are likely to be available in specialised stores, often given away by religious organisations to their members, and you may be lucky to find them in a newspaper supplement at the end of the year. I'm specifically making one up for an old-aged diaspora aunt whose special needs include XL print.

 Tourist wall calendar, combining the γιορτές (feastdays) via the Eortologio.

There is also the little page-a-day calendar, a traditional albeit old-fashioned iconic symbol of Greek popular culture, which gives you much more information than is given in any of the glossy wall calendars, including the saints' days celebrated on each day, so you will know whose nameday it is on that day. They are excellent value for money.

 

The page-a-day calendar answers all these questions for you:

What day is it today? (the first word gives the day, the big number the date, and the last word the month); I wonder who's celebrating their nameday. (right under the big number); What time should I milk the cows? (sunrise time is given right below the name of the day); When should I feed the chickens? (sunset time is next to sunrise time); Is it time to trim the grapevine? (moon quarter is stated next to sunset time - agricultural tasks are performed according to whether the moon is getting 'bigger' (ie approaching full moon) or getting 'smaller' (approaching new moon); Is it a fasting day? (the bold text below sunset/sunrise/moon quarter: eg καταλυσις εις παντα = 'non-fasting day'); What shall I read? (bible reading for the day given in the two lines above the name of the month); Any ideas for cooking? (it's written on the back of the paper - you will see it once you peel off it off, tomorrow - other versions of this calendar come with poems, sports trivia and religious verses).  

Ιn the same place where you find the calendars in a Greek bookshop, you will also find the Kazamias, the book form of a Greek new year's calendar, an almanac containing the same information as the useful little page-a-days, with extra bonus trivia such as encyclopaedia entries, recipes and even dream interpretation, ονειροκρίτες. Dream interpreteters need constant updating, hence the reason why these books near the calendar section of a bookstore. We need new dream interpretations on a regular basis as the world changes, because as the world changes, so do our dreams, which depend on where we get our inspiration from, as Patricia Storace clearly illustrates in Dinner with Persephone:

Artemidorus

Another person calls to me, this time a girl in blue jeans standing on the corner beside a stack of books piled on an upended crate. "Do you need one?" she asks. "What are they?" I slow down, shift my packages, and climb toward her... She holds up a volume and flips the pages. "Dream books. Oneirokrites." Actually, I did bring one. But it was written in the second century, the Oneirokritika, a handbook of dreams collected by a professional dream interpreter named Artemidorus, who traveled in Greek cities, and recorded and classified the dreams people told him in order to make a manual of the art of dream interpretation for his son. It is a social history of shocking intimacy, a study of the unconscious lives of people of another world, trying to divine the future through their dreams, while we, so far away, try to divine the past. The Oneirokritika ... was an inspiration for Freud's Interpretaiton of Dreams. "I do have one," I say, "but it's old." "You are foreign?" she asks, and I nod. "How long have you lived here?" "Two days." "Then you will need a new one. You will have new dreams here."

My mother-in-law refers to (a very old) dream interpreter on a regular basis. It's always depressing to hear about her dreams; the interpretation is more often negative than positive and causes her great anxiety throughout the day. She never seems to have good dreams, ones whose symbolism in the unconscious world predicts a happy outcome in the real world. Most of the time, she tells us about her dreams when we are about to do something that she predicts will have a bad outcome, like for example when we treat a stray cat with kindness: "Oh, don't do that! I saw a cat in my dream last night, which means someone's conspiring against you." I often wonder if she realises that her dreams aren't actually our dreams; logically, they should befall her, and not us.

Predicting the future is as old as the evolution of the human being. Natural phenomena like earthquakes, random celestial events such as eclipses, animal sounds, and the ancient orcales are among the events used in the past to predict the future. Nature has provided the greatest inspiration for dream interpretation, since it forms the most primitive form of life, while the evolution of technology is a relatively recent form of inspiration in people's dreams.

Never having owned a dream interpreter, I decided to add such a book to my collection in this exceptionally difficult year for Greeks. My ονειροκρίτη is organised alphabetically, according to the names of things or actions. Ιt contains interpretations based on Artemidorus' original works, judging by the kinds of entries (eg αγάνωτα - cooking vessels that haven't been treated by a tinker); I can only guess that the entries still have some validity, judging by the number of references made in the book to times of economic hardship. Either that, or times of economic hardship have always been a part of everyday life: 

Aγάνωτα (untinkered cooking vessels): If you see your cooking vessels in your dreams and they are untinkered, await economic hardhsip. If you are served food from untinkered tin vessels, you will go through a worrying period. Among the betrothed this means the dissolution of the engagement.

Something as simple (and delightful in taste) as the artichoke can also be a symbol of financial hardship:

Αγγινάρα (artichoke): If you see it in its season, the dream is good, but if you see it out of season, await bitterness, slander and bad financial news. If you're eating it raw and it makes your lips turn yellow [don't they mean black?], a bad outcome in litigation cases awaits you.

Despite its quackish-sounding predictions, similar to those of psychics and fortune-tellers, I felt rewarded by the high level of the occurrence of fresh food items in the dream interpreter, all directly inspired by nature. But even natural items such as fruit and vegetables are often associated with an impending disaster. Cucumbers can only mean problems: 

Αγγούρι (cucumber): If you are eating cucumber in the winter, it means grief and worries. If you give it to another person, you will end up arguing with the person you are giving it to. If someone is giving it to you, that person will be the reason for your grief.

The thing is that these days we are unlikely to dream so simply, so the dream interpreter could be said to be highly imprecise given the complexity of our present world. For instance, it does not include an entry for υπολογιστή (computer). So if for example, you see a salty computer screen in your dream, you can't look up computer, but you can look up salt:

Αλάτι (salt): If you have salt in your hand and it is spilling out of it, you will lose, out of neglect, a person that is highly valuable for you. If you're grinding salt, you will pass through a period of unhappiness. If you're sprinkling it on food, you will see bitterness enter your life. But you will also get some small help. If you are lending or borrowing salt, you will give or receive bitterness. If someone is asking you for salt, you will get a letter.

But if the salt was on a computer screen, does that mean someone is giving it you? Or did you give it to someone else? If the screen is salt-clogged, you will not even be able to see the person involved in the first place. And if you had the sound turned off, you will not hear if someone was asking for it or giving it to you. And could the letter be an email instead, which most of us receive every day (and very often in the form of junk mail)? As our world becomes more complex, so do our dreams...

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An optimist's approach to the crisis (Μια αισιόδοξη προσσέγγιση στην κρίση))

Happy New Year everyone. Καλώς σας βρήκε, I hope.

Pomegranate charms

Just before we left the office before Christmas, my colleagues and I attended a small art exhibition of Christmas gifts and New-Year good-luck charms. I was quite surprised by the price tags on these hand-made items: wreaths for 60 euro, wall mirrors for 75 euro, pomegranate-shaped metalware with a slightly ephemeral-looking 2012 hanging off them for 15 euro. We're in the midst of a crisis, right? I knew I couldn't afford anything displayed there, and if I bought anything, I would only be doing it to show solidarity to the artist during the crisis. But at that particular moment, my own wallet was empty, containing just a 6-euro supermarket voucher which I had obtained through loyalty card bonus points. I felt very embarrassed about not being able to buy something, especially when I noticed that other people were bringing out their wallets. But I didn't have any cash on me. So I really couldn't afford to buy anything. I didn't really want to, either: I didn't need anything that was on sale.

The people buying were all women, picking up mainly small trinkety items that cost under 10 euro: a candlestick, a tea-light in a wine glass, a 2012 good luck charm shaped like a key ring, among others. I overheard a couple of women mentioning that every year they always used to buy a new decoration for their Christmas tree, but this year, they found it hard to do this, and they regarded this as a bad omen for the coming year.

I have the idea that buying new Christmas tree decorations is something that people with a lot of excess cash can do, in other words, people who live in highly consumeristic societies, where impulse buying and sales spending sprees are encouraged because salaries are high enough to include a certain amount to be used exclusively as disposable income, building up a materialistic legacy of clutter. These women were mothers of children who are at the end of their teenage years: they were talking about things I thought only children would be asking for. Not to mention the guilt trip I felt: we all live in the same consumer world, but we don't spend our money in the same way. My kids often complain that their classmates seem to 'have more' than they do. It also reminded me of something I recently read in a newspaper: 

"Sometimes I see the Greeks as big babies. Crying because they don't get their chocolate milk... The Greeks should be men and face it like a man instead of like a little crying girl. Come on. Grow up." (Elroy Huckelberry, Letters to the Editor, eKathimerini.com

The New Year must begin on a more optimistic note. Hence my first post for 2012 will tell you all about a few good effects of the crisis on my family. It's better to treat it as a learning experience since we are going to be living it for quite a while.

WORK: I've still got a job (a number of people I know don't). My income has been reduced enough to feel the pinch, but we still pay all our bills and don't borrow money; we just don't save much these days, because there is very little left over. My husband's line of work has suffered much more. The taxi stays idle for many hours, because people don't take taxis as often as they used to. They are now considering them a luxury (like in other parts of the world - hello, welcome to the real world). He works about 30-40 hours a week, hardly ever at weekends.  Sometimes on Sunday mornings, he trails into town in the taxi, mainly to have a chat with his colleagues. It's a luxurious feeling amidst a serious economic crisis when there are two people making an income in the same household, and our work environments are relatively convivial.

 
HOME LIFE: Due to the low demand for taxis, my husband now works fewer hours. Since he faced up to this fact, he's become calmer; he doesn't get stressed about there not being enough work. He's stopped working the dead hours (nights), and spends more time with his children, both at home and in the fields. Always a keen gardener, he now spends even more time gardening, hence we have more fresh food available to us. In his spare time, he helps the children with their school homework, combining their history lessons with stories of his past that tie in with the present (when life was a little harder because things were different).

My husband works for himself, so in a sense, he can't lose his job. What if I lose my salaried work? For one thing, the house will be cleaner, the garden will have fewer weeds, and I won't need a car, because I won't be going anywhere, hence no petrol needs. There'll be more foraging, I'd have all day to spend time raising animals for food and planting crops. The bills will continue to be paid: they always get paid first. Oh, and I can spend a lot more time blogging, which I find very rewarding. It's not going to get worse; it might just get easier, especially in places like Crete.


MONEY: When there's a lot of extra money available, you end up spending it because you have this idea - and it wasn't a mistaken one in the past - that the coffer will always be refilled and your money won't run out. Urban Hania is a highly materialistic society: shops are full of 'stuff'. Avoiding the consumer society trap is easier if you live in a rural area; you go into the town centre after you've collected a number of chores that have to be done there. I wasn't much of a big spender before the crisis, but now I can feel justified for not spending, and glad about not wasting what I had. All our taxes are paid, all our bills are up to date, and we buy what we need. The last point is the butt of jokes by some of our friends, who claim that if all people were like me and my husband, then shops like periptera (kiosks), mini-markets, cosmetics shops, brand-label clothes stores, goldsmiths, and a whole lot of other showy businesses would never survive. To put it another way, we simplify our needs according to our finances. That's why a lot of Northern Europeans come to live in Crete - to simplify their life. Look at Holland's eye-watering 249% household debt - that's not living in the real world.

 

TAXES: The new taxes (the solidarity tax and property tax) were paid on time. In some households I know, these taxes didn't get paid: some people are objecting to paying at all while others claim they don't have any money to pay them with. I find this hard to believe: in 2009, 7 out 10 people told the tax authorities that they had an annual income of below 12,000 euros (the tax-free ceiling at the time), while 4 out of 10 households claimed their annual income was even lower than the new tax-free ceiling of 5,000 euros. They're simply trying to wriggle out of paying. They've been lying to the tax department for years. My salary will have all the new 2012 taxes deducted on a monthly basis from now on. I'm starting off the new year debt-free.

Learning English at home - with mum

DAILY EXPENSES: Bills are the first thing to be paid in our house; we don't owe any money to anyone. Our electricity bills are the lowest among our close friends, due to forward planning: we use gas for cooking, we don't worry about ironing, we use the dishwasher only on 'bad' days, the air conditioner only when the heat is unbearable (6-10 times per year), we always switch off computers every night, we've sensitised the kids to switching off lights in a room when it isn't being used, and we don't use the washing machine every day, nor do we use the extra hot cycle where the water needs to be heated to an extreme point. Phone companies offer all sorts of sensible deals these days for more talk time at less cost. Water bills in rural areas are still reasonable (because they are usually not connected to sewerage systems yet). That's a good thing. Petrol has always been expensive in Greece; we don't own a gas guzzler and we shop at places on our way to and from work to reduce costs.

The major adjustment we've made in our daily expenses is with heating fuel, which is now very expensive (more than 1 euro/litre: it used to be about 0.60 cents/litre). If there's less money available, it's one more thing that needs to be reduced. This year, we installed a wood-burning heater in our first-floor house. It also has an oven compartment! It keeps the house quite warm and the firewood is from the trimmings of our village trees. It's made a big impact on our life in the first three days of its use!

FOOD: We can still afford to eat good food. Our meals are prepared from scratch. Apart from bagged staples like rice, pasta, sugar and flour, my family's food hardly ever comes prepared out of cans or cardboard boxes. By planting a garden, maintaining fruit trees, using our own supply of olive oil everywhere and limiting meaty meals to once or twice a week, we consistently manage to keep our food expenses down, at the same time as including locally grown seasonal food in most of our meals. We never used to go out much for a meal in the past, except in the summer, as a change from the usual routine. Not much has changed on this front, except that we're more likely to go out for a souvlaki instead of a taverna. Our food continues to be frugal and very high quality, all thanks to our own effort.

But there are also a few points which should be noted as changes to the way I prepare my family's meals, because I possibly did not go out of my way to adhere to them in the past.

Because the price of meat has gone up, we now steer clear of buying meat from the supermarket because that's where it's more expensive to buy it from in Hania. Instead, we choose to support small-enterprise butchers who often locally raise a significant proportion of the meat they are selling, and, generally speaking, sell more cheaply. Of course, the meat is better quality, and the butcher is more cautious to sell something good to the customer, because he doesn't want to lose us. Obviously, that's a good thing: cheaper prices, higher quality food, supporting small enterprises.

Nuts are full of protein, and can take the place of meat. The price of locally grown chestnuts is only 4 euro/kg (compared to beef which is over 10 euro/kg). Readers of the Guardian already know the merits of my chestnut stifado, a dish often associated with meat, not nuts. There are many ways to cut down on food expenses without losing out on the nutritive qualities.

I also make a lot of pies these days, with my own home-made pastry. A lot of our food is prepared in large batches: it saves both time and money.

BISCUITS and CAKES: Cretan free-flowing olive oil can replace butter in all sweets, with little experimentation: 250g butter is equivalent to 1 cup olive oil. Our cookie jars are always full.



Life isn't perfect; it's not perfect anywhere. Wherever you are, it can still be very good. We have to change with the times. Some people like to think of this change as a step backwards. I like to think of it as a change towards some common sense. It's all in the mind.

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