Showing posts with label parades in Greece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parades in Greece. Show all posts

Friday, April 3, 2015

Hope Falls in the Greek Spring: Austerity, Generosity, Brutality, and Wildflower Escapes


The Fall of Greece? Any Spring Ahead?


During the past month or so, the worldwide popularity of SYRIZA seems to have dropped, although the government remains popular here, and many Greeks are still hopeful. If last month was a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs, this month felt to me like a long ride down—into what, remains to be seen. More and more Greeks nervously withdrew any savings they had left in banks, the Greek credit rating fell even further, rumors proliferated about when the Greek government would run out of money, whether capital controls would be imposed, and if and how Greece might leave the Eurozone, default, and/or start using a different currency. Like much of Europe, I was puzzled by the SYRIZA government’s relative inaction, especially in relation to the agreement with the institutions on February 20; why were we waiting so long for the clear proposals discussed way back in February? A friend who’s sympathetic with SYRIZA plausibly suggests it’s a matter of the SYRIZA government’s inexperience. On the other hand, many of us are also puzzled by highly experienced European officials’ refusal to provide the type of financial help they gave the previous Greek government, even after SYRIZA agreed to reforms and budgetary restraints. And many of us are frustrated by foreign leaders’ continuing efforts to control Greece in return for bailouts that benefited European banks rather than Greek people.

Depending on where you look or whom you ask, Greece could run out of money April 9 or April 20 if the institutions (the European Commission, the European Central Bank, and the International Monetary Fund) don’t approve dispersal of more aid. Depending on where you look or whom you ask, Greece could be having constructive discussions with the institutions, determined to remain on good terms with Europe as part of the Eurozone, promising to repay all debts; or Greece could be wasting time, on the verge of a major default and an exit from the Eurozone. Around the middle of the month, I first noticed the term “Grexident” used in the news instead of “Grexit.” Whether or not I just missed it before, the new word seems to emphasize that many were beginning to view the possibility of an accidental Greek exit from the Eurozone as increasingly likely. At the same time, the Greek and German governments were engaged in a war of words and economics, with the Greeks asking for war reparations the Germans claim to have settled long ago, the Germans claiming the Greeks are not serious about making reforms or working with the institutions, and both Greeks and Germans claiming the others have insulted them.

Formerly known as the troika, the institutions seem intent on putting as much pressure on Greece as possible now that the country is desperate for money. The Greek Parliament defiantly passed one bill to help the needy, even though they were told they shouldn’t do that. Mark Weisbrot argues that “blackmail is actually an understatement of what the troika is doing to Greece. It has become increasingly clear that it is trying to harm the Greek economy in order to increase pressure on the new Greek government to agree to its demands” after the so-called “bailout,” in which “most Greeks have been not bailed out but thrown overboard, having lost more than 25 percent of their national income since 2008.” Weisbrot claims that European officials are doing this “to show who is boss” and states that “by destabilizing the economy and discouraging investment and consumption” their actions will “almost certainly slow Greece’s recovery and [probably] undermine support for the government,” which he says they aim to do. However, “European officials’ actions could inadvertently force Greece out of the euro — a dangerous strategy for all concerned. They should stop undermining the economic recovery that Greece will need if it is to achieve fiscal sustainability” (Destroying the Greek economy in order to save it). I agree.

Greece needs an economic recovery even more than many realize. Princeton and Harvard trained economist Stelios Markianos points out that “per capita consumption [in Greece] dropped between 2009 and 2013 … by 31.5% adjusted for inflation”—not just 25%, which refers to the GDP--on the basis of Eurostat approved published data. And for Markianos, the solution is not tax collection, since he does not consider tax evasion the country’s major problem (although many would like to see the wealthiest tax evaders, especially, make a fair contribution to the Greek state budget). In a work in progress, Markianos compares state revenues in Greece and Germany, which were about equal at around 47% of GDP in 2013; in Greece before 2009, they were approximately 38% of GDP, and thus comparable with Spain’s and Portugal’s. So, Markianos argues, if Greece wasn’t collecting enough taxes before 2009, neither were Spain and Portugal; if Greece wasn’t collecting enough in 2013, neither was Germany. Greeks pay more taxes than Spaniards and Portuguese and as much as Germans, compared to their economies.

Markianos also compares the size of the informal economy (the untaxed part of the economy) relative to GDP in several European countries up to 2009; Greece does come out ahead in this, with Spain’s informal economy at 22.2% of GDP and Greece’s at 26.5%. However, looking at the size of the GDP and the population, “the actual per capita annual amount of tax evasion was in 2012 higher in Germany and France than in Greece at 4,621 euros, 4,057 euros, and 4,001 euros respectively!” On the other hand, Spain, Portugal, and Germany provide more state services than Greece, so Greece’s problem is not undercollection of taxes, but inefficient overspending. Markianos argues, then, that the Greek state needs to cut costs and corruption and introduce reforms that make it more efficient, rather than focusing on collecting more taxes. And the proof for that, he argues, is that “the focus on additional revenues implemented rigorously over the last five years has proved to result in one of the most profound depressions in history, excluding times of war.”

That’s not to say people shouldn’t pay the taxes they owe—at least when they can afford them, after paying for food, clothing, electricity, water, and rent. I’ve understood for some time that new taxation and austerity measures had not been applied fairly in Greece, but I was still shocked by the details of a “Study [that] finds Greek crisis policies created huge inequalities.” It shows that “the tax burden on lower-income Greek households skyrocketed by 337.7 percent compared to just 9 percent for high-income groups” between 2008 and 2012! How could that make sense? Lower income people who were just getting by were expected to come up with more than three times as much money to pay increased taxes, while those who had more than enough just made a slightly larger payment?! Astonishing stupidity and injustice! As Markianos argues, “this regressive fiscal policy has further deepened the depression, as low income persons tend to consume more domestically.”

On top of that, average public sector pay cuts were just 8%, while private sector pay cuts were 19% from 2009-2013 (not adjusting further for the 0 wage unemployed), the former part of a mere 7.5% reduction in government spending. (And even that 7.5% was keenly felt, as public health care coverage dropped drastically, so it was not the wisest sort of reduction—and SYRIZA is now trying to restore universal health care, since Greece spends less on health care than the rest of the EU [Greece scraps hospital visit fee, to hire health workers].) More than 72% of the “fiscal adjustments” came from increased taxation—mostly of the poor. How could that make sense, with the Greek bureaucracy world-famous for being bloated? Part of the problem seems to be that if more public servants were laid off, poverty would seem likely to increase in this land of more than 25% unemployment. But at the root of it all is the excessive patronage politics that led to a great deal of unnecessary hiring in the first place.

And now the Greek state clearly can’t afford to pay so many people. But this is no longer just the fault of patronage politics; it’s also because “Germany and other euro-zone states are effectively bailing out their own banks, thereby rewarding poor lending decisions and speculation,” as a very good overview of the recent history of the Greek crisis in the New Yorker puts it, and as many others have said before. “Close to ninety per cent of the [bailout] money returns directly to the original creditors, or goes to recapitalize Greek banks; most of the funds don’t even touch the Greek government’s hands,” let alone help the Greek people (What Austerity Looks Like Inside Greece).

Last Thursday, there was a severe dust storm here in northwestern Crete, with strong winds bringing dirt from Africa that blocked our view of the mountains we generally see clearly, and the horizon line between the sea and the sky replaced with something like a fuzzy fog bank. The skies are now clear, but the future of Greece is not.

Four Gestures of Varying Significance


Meanwhile, a two-year-old video of Greek finance minister Yanis Varoufakis giving the finger to Germany before he entered politics surfaced to great fanfare last month, along with a photo spread for a Paris publication that seems to portray Varoufakis and his wife living in luxury. The question of whether or not Varoufakis gave Germany the finger years ago—and what it means if he did or didn’t--has attracted an astonishing amount of attention. However, the real questions here are whether everyone can afford enough nutritious food, adequate medical care, and housing, whether they can earn enough money to pay their bills, and whether the government will manage to pay civil servants’ salaries and pensions this month. Eating fresh spinach and fresh turkey eggs from friends—that’s real. Fingergate? Varoufake? That’s part of a ridiculous media circus.

A more significant gesture was notable at the Greek Independence Day parade in Chania on March 25, where I was struck by the large number of traditional Greek dancing groups passing by in ornate, colorful costumes that contrasted with the dark blue and white of the parading schoolchildren and with the well-matched, serious precision of the military marchers. I was pleased to note that the general public was no longer forced to make a many-block-long detour in order to avoid approaching government officials who had watched the parade from a place of guarded honor during last October’s Ohi Day parade. Although finance minister Yanis Varoufakis was among the dignitaries this time—a newsworthy event, since he doesn’t live in or come from Crete--the SYRIZA government had decreed that there would be no separation between the people and the officials, and we were allowed to pass by in a more civilized manner, aside from some mild pushing on crowded sidewalks.

Some Germans have joined many Greeks in asking Chancellor Angela Merkel and her government to make an even more important gesture. Discussions about German war reparations for Nazi atrocities during WWII have gained particular prominence now, inspiring renewed debate about whether Greece deserves them, or whether past treaties have already settled the issue. Some argue that Greece was not a party to the agreements that declared the reparations issue settled and claim that was not something that could be decided for this country; others assert that Germany won’t re-open the can of worms of general reparations but might at least consider repaying the forced loan from Greece to the Nazis—or at the very least make a symbolic payment as a gesture of goodwill (see, e.g., Pressure mounts on Merkel over Greek war reparations calls).

A German couple recently went to the mayor of Nafplio, chosen because it was “the first capitol of Greece in the 19th century,” and paid him what they had calculated to be one German’s share of what Germany owes Greece in WWII reparations. (With one retired and the other not working full-time, they couldn’t afford to pay for two.) They were trying to “make up for their government’s attitude” (German couple pay Greece £630 'war reparations'). While two people can hardly make up for a government’s attitude, action, or inaction, I find that a moving individual gesture. If more would make that kind of cross-cultural effort to atone for great wrongs, and fewer would focus on the media circus around a single obscene, but essentially harmless, gesture, perhaps compassionate intercultural relations between individuals would have a greater chance of improving international relations, lessening the harmful effects of the political posturing that creates so much trouble.

Unrealistic idealism? Maybe, maybe not. Too little too late? Perhaps. Politicians  need to get their acts together? Absolutely. But I think such ordinary people’s efforts  are worthwhile. I was also inspired by an article about Erwin Schrumpf, an Austrian who survived the Norman Atlantic ferry fire in December. Both before and after that tragedy, he has been collecting medicines and medical supplies to donate to underfunded Greek hospitals and medical centers, making a noteworthy difference in many people’s lives (Narrow escape from Norman Atlantic fails to dampen one Austrian's support for Greece; see also their web site, although it's not in English). If only I could do something like that! But I’ve already exhausted my family, friends, and friends’ friends with requests to support one fundraiser to help an uninsured, unemployed father of five who has been ill (Help pay Nikolaos’s hospital bills and support his children). My Greek neighbors and friends can and do donate food and clothing for the neediest people here, so that seems to be the most realistic kind of charitable activity for ordinary people within this country. Elsewhere, I’d encourage more people to be as generous as possible to those in need. Of course, private charity is not a solution to the problems facing Greece or any other part of the world, but it can temporarily alleviate a small fraction of the worst suffering.

A Brutal Attack on an Anti-Racist Doctor


At a pizza party to celebrate the strong performance of the children from our school who participated in the Panhellenic Kung Fu Championship, I walked in on a shocked discussion of the brutal beating of a doctor who is well known and loved in Chania for his efforts to help alleviate suffering. In the evening on Greek Independence Day, there was a performance by Yar Aman, a music group of Greeks and migrants, who sang Turkish and Greek songs together in the Old Port of Chania. Afterwards, one of the musicians, a migrant, was verbally attacked by a group of young men. Later, a calm, kind doctor, Dimitris Makreas, who is respected for supporting migrants and caring for those in need, was standing next to the man who had been insulted when some other people shouted at the young men to stop bothering the migrant and go away.

A short time later, according to quotations from Dimitris in a newspaper article, he and his wife were walking down Daskalogianni Street, not far from the Old Port, when he saw one of the young men from the earlier group talking on the phone, looking at Dimitris, and saying “Yes, yes, he is.” Three men were approaching Dimitris and his wife when the one who had been talking on the phone came up behind Dimitris and, without warning—as a video clip from a store’s security camera shows--began to hit him on the back of the head with a heavy wooden handle. A moment later, Dimitris said, three others began kicking and punching him, continuing after he fell down, until an elderly couple began shouting. Even then, when Dimitris managed to get up, a man punched him in the face, throwing him back down and hitting his head on the asphalt, leaving him numb and in pain throughout his body. He was taken to the hospital and treated for a fracture in the front of his skull, a brain hematoma, and bruises on his head. He has been released from the hospital and is recovering from his injuries.

I have heard that at least one witness identified one of the attackers as a member of the fascist group Golden Dawn, and many believe that Dimitris was the victim of an organized assault by a gang of about ten men. Dimitris is especially shocked because some of the young men he identified as his attackers in police photos are residents of Akrotiri, Chania, where he has worked in a community clinic for years, possibly treating some of his attackers’ family members. So far, three men have been arrested for this attack.

Many were surprised that several of the early news reports focused more on damage done to Golden Dawn offices and a store after a spontaneous march to protest this attack, rather than on the serious injury to a human being, while he remained hospitalized. Fortunately, additional coverage provided more attention to the doctor and the brutal attack he suffered. Since the attack, many people have gathered in front of the court house, in a central square in Chania, in the streets of Chania, at various organizations’ meeting places, and in Kounoupidiana, Akrotiri, in support of Dimitris and his migrant friend and in protests against racist violence.

Many feel the attack should have been defined as severe bodily injury or even attempted murder, since several perpetrators repeatedly struck one unarmed person, sometimes with a weapon, and, according to a video, without any provocation. Reporter George Konstas wrote (as translated by Google), “the neurosurgeon Anthony Krasoudakis stressed that apart from the external wounds (on the face, around the head) the most important [problems] ‘are internal bleeding, lesions in the brain and a fractured skull. These blows could cause death. We have seen people killed even with much less severe blows.’”

The timing of the attack shortly after the racist insults, the apparent organization of a gang of ten attackers and accomplices by phone, and the availability of a getaway car—or three cars and one motorbike--have been discussed at length by those who feel that there was a racist motivation for this attack, but the doctor’s lawyers claim this has not been adequately investigated by the police or the judiciary. The lawyers, according to news reports, say witnesses were not pursued, and videos from nearby shops were not entered as evidence. Many local organizations, politicians, and individuals have condemned the attack and called for a complete investigation and full prosecution of everyone involved (Κατακραυγήαπό φορείς και συγκέντρωση διαμαρτυρίας για την απρόκλητη επίθεση σε γιατρό). Now that a good, kind, generous Greek doctor has been attacked, we really don’t know who will be next.

Yesterday, a verdict was announced in the trial of three men: one innocent, two guilty of grievous bodily harm, one of the guilty men also guilty of possession and use of a weapon, with sentences of four years, in one case, and four years ten months, in the other. Both sentences have been suspended until trial in the Court of Appeals, with bail set at 5,000 euros each. All of the attackers are free now, and many of those alleged to have been involved in organizing the attack were not even tried in court, although the prosecutor said the participation of others would be investigated (Χανιά: Ένοχοι οι 2 από τους 3 για τη φασιστική επίθεσηστον Δ. Μακρέα (ενημέρωση) and Ένοχοι δίχως αναστολή για την επίθεση στο γιατρό Δημήτρη Μακρέα).

My Brief Escape into a Wildflower Wonderland

Many do not feel that either the investigation and prosecution of Dimitris Makreas’s attackers, or the case of Greece as a whole, has been handled justly. Many worry about the resumption of racist attacks in Chania after Golden Dawn leaders were released from their pre-trial custody, and many worry about the persistence of unemployment and economic problems throughout Greece. My personal consolation is outdoors, where the 45 species of wildflowers I counted on just one walk in and beyond my neighborhood led me to lose track of time and exercise as well as politics, economics, and racist brutality. Of course, that’s only possible because I am privileged enough to feel fairly confident that my family and I will have enough food, clothing, safety, health care, and housing, whatever happens—although I am adequately aware that I could be wrong about this to worry about our future as well as that of others.

Getting back into walking in the mild, sunny days of the first week of March after a series of viruses struck me in February, I was astonished to see how many wildflowers had sprung up while I wasn’t looking. I’ve seen some since December, but March was the height of their season, and many different flowers came into bloom over the course of the month. (The 45 species I counted one day were not all the same as the 42 I counted another day, and I saw even more different kinds other days.) I am addicted to wildflowers: taking photos and gathering some of the most plentiful blossoms, I lose track of the time and fail to attain the aerobic benefits of a brisk walk. I promise myself not to pick or photograph them some days, since I have enough photos and bouquets, but then I break down and decide we could use a few fresh flowers, or another one of the neighbors might like a bouquet….

There is a profusion of yellow, including Bermuda buttercups, dandelion-like blooms, trees with ball-like yellow blossoms hanging like miniature ornaments, Jerusalem sage, and sharp bushes of spiny broom. White and yellow crown daisies are thriving by the roadside, mingled with upside-down blue violet blossoms with fuzzy stems. A few brilliant red poppies shiver in the breezes, even when it’s warm; various lavender and purple flowers are also abundant. Bee orchids or their relatives are still blooming as various other tiny pink and white orchids appear between pink crepe-paper like Cretan rock roses, white cistus, wild mignonette, and lacy white tordylium. My wildflower habit is hardest to kick this time of year, so I just keep pausing in admiration and hope to get more exercise when the flowers have faded in the heat of the Greek sun.

My rose-colored glasses were shattered when I discovered that the prime  wildflower habitat among olive groves nearby was partly destroyed by a bulldozer’s attack on large patches of ground, probably to gather pruned olive branches, and then by aggressive mowing. The site is ideal for wildflowers since it is kept free of the hardier herbs and shrubs, but hazardous for them since the olive farmer thinks they need to be removed for the sake of his trees—probably, according to the horticulturalist and agronomist I asked, an erroneous belief. A friend and I tried to rescue some of the flowers in danger of immediate destruction—or at least photograph some and save others for temporary enjoyment since they were about to be pulverized. We hope that since none of us except the bulldozer pulls up the roots, the flowers’ offspring will return next year—as they did this year and last—although this is the first year I’ve seen the ground bulldozed down to bare mud (a bad idea in this region of occasionally very heavy rain).

We tried to convince the elderly Cretan farmer mowing around the olive trees to spare some of the possibly rare orchids just starting to bloom toward the end of last month, pointing out a lovely cluster that wasn’t too close to the trees and hence, we argued, wouldn’t hurt them. He nodded, smiled, and took a break from cutting while we were there. But after we’d left, we saw a bulldozer heading for that olive grove. Returning another day, I saw that the farmer had not left us any orchids. But at least he didn’t bulldoze their roots: he just mowed them all down. Nor did cruel thugs destroy the roots of the anti-racist movement in Chania; in fact, in beating down one of its strongest supporters, they united much of the community in support of equality for all. And on the first day of April, schoolchildren in Chania watched a play in which a Greek father overcomes his mean ethnocentrism so his family can befriend some immigrants. We may escape from harsh reality temporarily, but it doesn’t go away while we’re looking at pretty flowers. There is hope, though, if we can educate our children to be anti-racist, compassionate, responsible human beings.

Acknowledgements: I am grateful to the two friends who commented on drafts of parts of this blog posting. Thanks also to the individuals, including journalists, who provided me with information and photos related to the attack on Dr. Dimitris Makreas, and especially to George Konstas and Chaniotika Nea for the photos of the doctor and of people demonstrating outside the court house. (The other photos--including one of a gathering in front of the Agora in Chania--are mine, as usual.)

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Autumn Events in My Cretan Neighborhood, Chania, and Greece



Life, Rescue, and Death in Our Neighborhood



Autumn Showers Bring Autumn Flowers, Lavender, Yellow, and Green


Our wet season has transformed the dry summer landscape of Crete, bringing out some of the greenery I used to see during Pennsylvania summers (carpets of grass, undulations of sorrel, bits of moss), although it often appears in olive groves here. The summer’s gray brown branches on wild hillsides are being replaced by new leaves of thyme, oregano, and other shrubs, mastic bushes full of red and black berries, autumn heather’s clusters of miniscule bell-shaped lavender blossoms, yellow wildflowers that resemble dandelions and buttercups, a few delicate little white flowers with six slender, pointy petals, and early miniature daisies. It all gets covered with so much morning dew that it’s sometimes hard to tell which nights it has rained, and which it hasn’t, although that’s not a problem when serious downpours turn our hilly, gutterless rural and village roads into rivers. With temperatures fluctuating between occasional dips into the 40s Fahrenheit at night (which feel very cold) and highs in the 70s on our warmer days, we got out winter rugs and coats but still keep some short sleeves handy.


 

Rescuing Kittens from a Dumpster


One day, after I threw some trash into one of the large public dumpsters used to collect all the garbage in Greece, I heard something scuffling around inside it. I stopped. Pitiful mewing. I looked. Two kittens on the bottom of an almost empty dumpster must have gone looking for food and gotten stuck. I leaned in, staining my jacket, but since the dumpster came up to my chest I could not stretch far enough to reach the kittens at the bottom. I didn’t know what to do. However much I’ve become accustomed to seeing and hearing the countless stray cats in our neighborhood and in Greece, however little I consider adopting any of them (because of our allergies), I couldn’t just leave little kittens where they could be crushed by heavy bags of household waste.

Two middle-aged men came along. I said in Greek, “There are kittens in the dumpster!” They looked at me and spoke another language, probably French. I couldn’t remember a word of the French I’d started learning in the Montreal area fourteen years ago, so I tried English and pointing: “Cats!!” I reenacted my failed attempt to reach them. The men looked in, consulted each other, and pulled the dumpster over, almost sideways, so I could reach in to the kittens. One scared kitten jumped past me; the other hissed and drew back, but I took hold of the fur on the back of its neck and quickly pulled it out. The Frenchmen (?) righted the dumpster, and we went on our way, mission accomplished. If only the problems of the unemployed and homeless people, the refugees, the sick, and the hungry humans of the world, could be solved so easily, with such immediate, cross-cultural recognition of both the problem and the way to cooperatively solve it.

Of course, even for the kittens, life isn’t really so simple. One of my aunts would have adopted them, fed them, and found good homes for them if they’d been in Kentucky. All I did was save them from immediate burial under garbage. But here, as I’ve said before, there are cats and dogs roaming all over, although I don’t know anyone in our neighborhood who “owns” a cat. Former neighbors, a Greek woman and her American husband, took all the cats in the neighborhood to a vet for neutering, except those that hovered around one house where the older man thought neutering was unnatural and refused to consent to it. In a decade, that single group has overpopulated the entire neighborhood once again.

And people drop off dogs here as if it were an open-air animal shelter. A few good souls attempt to feed, adopt, and/or neuter the strays. I was amazed when one American-born Greek neighbor told me she’d adopted and neutered the last stray dog in our neighborhood, so that all the dogs wandering around loose and dirty are actually owned by other neighbors! You’d never know it. So many Greeks use dogs as security systems and treat them accordingly, aside from food and water. I do see people walking leashed dogs, but I still think that’s a minority of the dog owners around here—and only one British woman cleans up after her pets. It’s impossible to go for a walk without running into a wandering dog or pack of dogs or stepping in the mess they deposit at will (for example, right next to my car door).



Death of a Neighbor


Around the middle of this month, an elderly neighbor died, the fifth on our short street to pass away in the twelve years I’ve lived here, and the second to die since my mother did. Kyrios (Mr.) Damianos had been fighting diabetes and its complications for years. Every day, he would walk the aged German Shepherd who died before him back and forth on the flattest street in our hilly neighborhood, raising his cane in greeting and stopping to chat. Sometimes he would disappear for a trip to the hospital, when his family had caught a crisis in time to save him. Then he would reappear, looking frailer, walking more slowly, but continuing his daily exercise routine, always friendly and kind, until he could no longer leave his home. Kyria (Mrs.) Panayiota, Kyrios Damianos’s wife, devoted herself to his care, refusing to hire a woman to help as most affluent Greeks do, bathing her husband with her son’s assistance, only leaving twice aside from visits to the supermarket or to take out the garbage—the only times I saw her outside. We stopped a few times to compare notes about diabetes in the family, to talk about her husband, my diabetic mother, and my own health prospects as the daughter of parents with diabetes and heart disease.  

The day Kyrios Damianos died, I stopped by his house briefly at the beginning of an all-night vigil with his body, which was buried under white flowers in an open coffin, only his face showing, white and still, waxy and unreal. The sweet scent of the large white bouquets nearby reminded me of my mother’s memorial service (although the flowers there were more colorful). I expressed my sympathy using the word I’d learned by hearing it so often after Mom died, “silipitiria,” and the addition D mentioned, “zoe se sas,” life to you. I glanced at Kyrios Damianos but did not touch him or make the sign of the cross, as my next-door neighbor Kyria Katina later did; I did not know what I was supposed to do and did not feel comfortable paying as much attention to the dead as to the living who were there to mourn. Other neighbors who had lost parents were also present; as I whispered to two of them, we understood loss and grief. Kyria Panayiota was remarkably composed at first, but she broke down on the phone with a relative, and after she moved closer to the side of the coffin, next to her son, she began an affectionate, tearful lament addressed to her husband. At some point I began to cry, too; I think it was the flowers and the memory of Mom that got me started, but I was also crying for that kind neighbor and his family.

I find the all-night vigil that lasts until the funeral the next day one of the cruelest of the Greek Orthodox customs surrounding death: force the bereaved to stay awake all those hours and endure the funeral in a haze of exhaustion. Perhaps it’s a cathartic way for some to say goodbye, but my own naturally upset sleeplessness provided more than enough exhaustion after my parents died; an entire night out of bed would have pushed me to physical illness that would have deepened my depression. Three and six days later, Greek family members attend more memorial services, and forty days later, there is another public memorial service. A year later, they do it again. The funeral does not provide closure for the exhausted mourners here; the living are not allowed to try to move on as soon as they can manage. Rather, the grief must be publicly reawakened repeatedly before the bereaved are allowed to try to put it behind them. Of course, the grief is reawakened naturally, over and over, for years; my complaint is that there is a prescribed formula here, rather than a natural, personal process of grieving and healing. I readily admit, though, that this probably makes more sense—maybe even provides some sort of comfort--to at least some of those who have grown up with the tradition, if not to the Greek friends with whom I’ve discussed it.



Education and Commemoration in the Community



Science and Technology Day for Children


This year’s Science and Technology Day for elementary school students at the Technical University of Crete on a Saturday in mid October was even better than last year’s. Attendance more than doubled to about 4,000 this year, thanks to the experience and dedication of the wonderful director, Dr. Elia Psilakis, her staff, and hundreds of volunteers, mostly students and faculty members. I helped with safety checks in the impressive university building that housed it (tricky as it was to childproof), as well as offering a few scattered ideas. While almost everyone else involved helped more than I did, it felt good to be doing a bit of community service and university business again for a change, as if I really belong here in Chania.   

D and his team of students and postdocs presented a child-friendly version of some of their work with geostatistics that focused on the use of statistics to predict things like the weather and where lignite might be found underground (complete with photos of mining equipment and a discussion of how lignite is used to produce electricity in Greece). His group had found some amusing cartoons as well as beautiful colorful fractals to show off. Our kids appreciated their father’s efforts. Our American friends, a mother and her ten year old son, didn’t understand even as much of it—or of anything that day—as I did, but they also enjoyed the day, since there was so much to see and do. Every so often, my son would say he was tired and wanted a break and a snack, but then his attention would be distracted by yet another interesting exhibit, and he’d forget about the break—for almost four and a half hours. That’s pretty impressive for him, and good evidence of how impressed he was with the science day.

There were the traditional microscopes to look through, experiments with plant dye, magnets to play with, electric current demonstrations, chemistry experiments with salt and baking soda, and a few schoolkids’ science projects, plus a newfangled combination of computers and plants for computerized determination of watering needs. The kids were especially excited by the “Earth through the Eye of Technology” presentation of a flying drone in an open-air atrium, as well as a motion sensor camera that put them into movie scenes projected on the wall; electric cars that had been built by students and won trophies in races; little robotic cars, grabbers, and helicopters; glow in the dark chemistry experiments; colorful laser lights; computer games designed by university students; and the opportunity to program traditional Greek puppet theater (Karagiozis) shows on computers themselves.

The computer games and some of the virtual reality oddly came under the heading of “Bob the Builder,” and the laser lights were part of cluster of exhibits introduced with cute Greek word play: Physi ke Physiki ke Physika … Physiki (Φύση και Φυσική και Φυσικά...Φυσική), or Nature and Physics and Naturally…Physics. We had to drag the kids away from the drones and computers, but then they went wild over a wonderful area near the exit where some faculty and students from the school of architecture had set up an origami table, a maze of large, linked cardboard boxes, a jungle-type movie area, and a fascinating group of machines that included a virtual reality headset. It was almost 8:00, closing time, and the place was mobbed. I asked a professor if they’d call it a day soon, and he replied that the students were tired after a full day of preparation and presentation, but they didn’t have the heart to tell the deeply engaged children to leave.



October 28, Ohi Day


The rain played havoc with our Ohi (“No”) Day parade in Chania, which honors the 1940 decision of Greek Prime Minister Ioannis Metaxas not to let Mussolini’s forces enter and occupy Greece, as well as the fierce resistance by Greek fighters who defeated the Italians when they attempted to enter Greece from Albania, thus diverting the Germans, delaying their invasion of Russia, throwing the Nazis into the Russian winter, and changing the course of World War II. I most admire those who find ways to avoid violence and killing, but even I consider the Greek military’s humiliation of Mussolini and frustration of Hitler impressive, since I acknowledge that that was one of the times when people had good reason for armed resistance.

When it was time to take our daughter to march next to the Greek flag with her elementary school class, rain was pouring down, and thunder was rumbling in the distance. As we drove toward town at 11:15, I received a call saying that the parade had been cancelled. Confirming that, we decided to buy our kids some hot chocolate to save the day, but shortly after our hot drinks arrived, at the original meeting time for my daughter’s class, I received two more phone calls about the reversal of the cancellation. So we requested takeout cups and hurried off again, reaching the meeting point just before noon, when the parade should have started. Apparently the governor had originally cancelled the elementary schoolchildren’s participation in the parade, and then, seeing that the weather had cleared up, revoked the cancellation. There’s no such thing as a rain date in Greece—or advance notice. (“I don’t have school tomorrow” is not an uncommon claim—I heard it last week, for example.)

So half the class was assembled in confusion, and the principal was there without the Greek flag, badges, white gloves, and neckerchiefs the children were supposed to use. She’d sent someone to get them. Meanwhile, mothers photographed kids in their black and white parade outfits, and every so often more desperate children would run through the crowds in search of their classes. We were still tying on neckerchiefs and distributing badges and gloves when the gym teacher who’d led the marching drills insisted that everyone take their places, and we all rushed toward the beginning of the parade, parents and children alike.

D and I took our son on ahead in search of a high-enough vantage point, which turned out to be café steps. Our daughter’s class soon marched along with their flag, preceded and followed by more and more classes of almost identically dressed schoolchildren in identical rows. We couldn’t watch too much, because we had to scramble around to meet our daughter at the end of the parade route, and that turned out to involve an 8-block detour around town to avoid the VIP watchers’ stand, to my astonishment and annoyance. After collecting our daughter, we returned to watch the uniformed military squadrons, including chanting green berets and other special forces, with their weapons, flags, instruments, and even some skis. Our son was bored by everything but the weapons and the WWII vintage military vehicles, some of them full of small children. That struck me as just as incongruous as the police in riot gear near the area where the schoolchildren were gathering before the parade, but later I learned that protestors had thrown stones during past parades.

That was my first experience of a serious Greek parade (as opposed to a Carnival celebration). I knew it wouldn’t include the colorful floats or baton-twirling pageantry of American parades, so I was able to appreciate the cultural experience, complete with the weather-induced drama, rushing around, and detours. I wasn’t left with any time to get bored watching rows and rows of marching children, but thanks to the detour, I missed the colorful costumes of the Cretan dancers. I’m obviously too used to contemporary American pomp and circumstance, flash and color, to fully appreciate a simple parade for a serious holiday. On the other hand, I considered the giant cartoon-character balloons hovering over the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the spectators wearing silly turkey hats surprisingly tacky and lacking in creativity. I haven’t been in the U. S. at Thanksgiving for a long time and only saw photos of the parade; I didn’t realize it had come to that. At least Greeks are honest about, and aware of, the point and history of their holidays.



Protests, Strikes, Struggles, and Needs in Greece and Beyond



Giving Thanks and Eating, or Striking and Protesting Still More Austerity


Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Greece, but our children still had the day off because of a general strike, the first really big one here since last April. As workers, including teachers, protested the usual problems arising from the excessive austerity measures here, D discussed the relative merits of Batman and Spiderman with our son over the turkey legs and thighs that had to content us since whole turkeys are only sold in Greece around Christmas time. For a truly American touch, I baked an apple pie, although I combined my mother’s recipe for the filling with a newer one for an olive-oil-based crust more appropriate in Crete.

The governing coalition and its supporters understandably like to boast about improvements in Greece’s economy. However, the return to growth, improved credit rating, and primary budget surplus (which excludes the enormous debt and interest payments) fail to impress others, since most of us don’t actually see any tangible signs of real improvement. On the other hand, those who aren’t too sick of the topic and the situation can go on and on about the remaining problems that have arisen from a six-year recession and the troika’s recipe for severe austerity, which the government has followed. We can discuss the way spending cuts have reduced wages and pensions by an average of almost 50%, while unemployment is still hovering around 26% overall and vastly higher for young people, and that is all made worse by major tax increases and an increasingly inadequate social safety net (see, for example, A Sea Change in Greece? and Greeks Go On Strike Over New Austerity Measures).

According to Unicef, “[i]n Greece in 2012 median household incomes for families with children sank to 1998 levels – the equivalent of a loss of 14 years of income progress”; between 2008 and 2012, child poverty here increased from 23% to 40.5% (2.6 million more children plunged into poverty in rich countries during Great Recession and Unicef Innocenti Report Card 12). And, as the headline puts it, a recent International Labor Organization “report warns of prolonged social crisis unless steps are taken in employment” stimulation in Greece. Yet the troika still wants more austerity, even more tax increases! I cannot believe that educated, thinking people could propose such a thing—isn’t the troika composed of educated, thinking people? Many prominent economists—for example, Nobel Laureate  Paul Krugman--agree that all this “austerity” is not only unfair, but downright harmful to Greece and Greeks, and probably Europe and the world as well.



Syrian Refugees in Crete and Athens: Illness, a New Boatload, Protest and Hunger Strike


I received several phone calls last week about a Syrian refugee who had a heart attack and urgently needs medical treatment if his nine-year-old daughter is not to be left here without a living father, her only relative in Greece. Jode’s father Adeeb, whom I’ve met, was in the public hospital in Chania for a week after his heart attack, and now he needs an angiogram and additional care and medication which he has no insurance or money to cover. A Syrian who has been living in Chania for thirty years has been trying to help him, translating and attempting to make arrangements, but he called me to ask if I could help raise money for this. As I told another one of the refugees a month or two ago, it’s much easier to convince people here to donate food and clothing than money these days; in crisis-ridden Greece, most are barely getting by, if that. So I don’t know whom to ask. My Greek friend K has been in touch with the local branch of Doctors of the World, which does not have the facilities for the procedure Jode’s father needs, but we hope they will be able to help arrange for his care. Still, the question remains: who can pay for it? Can anyone out there help out? If so, let me know!

The people involved with local migrant support groups that K and I have appealed to on Adeeb’s behalf have not responded, but I don’t blame them; they’ve already done a great deal for so many migrants and refugees. Now, I think they may be down in the southeastern Cretan town of Ierapetra, overwhelmed with the effort to help a new boatload of 585 migrants, mostly Syrian refugees, whose boat’s engines stopped working in the rough sea 70 nautical miles from Crete so they had to be towed to our island on Thanksgiving day (Harrowing sail ends in Greece for Syrian refugees). They were taken to an indoor basketball arena that is being used as temporary housing. What will happen next, I don’t know, since almost a third of the refugees who arrived in Crete last spring are still in unsupported limbo here (as I said in last month's blog post), and the Greek government has so far provided very little support for all the Syrian refugees already in Athens and elsewhere.

With all of this in mind, I was astonished by a New York Times article about a company’s spending over one million dollars on Christmas decorations (Splurging on Opulent Holiday Displays at the Office), while about two hundred Syrian refugees, including a number of children, have been camping out in the cold in front of the Parliament building in Syntagma Square in Athens since November 19, asking the Greek government for the housing, health care, and education international law decrees are due to war refugees, as well as for travel documents that would allow them to travel to other European countries to apply for asylum. (See, e.g., Syrian refugees seek fresh start from Greek destitution and the Syrian refugees’ and supporters’ Tweets.) Even after several of the protesting refugees began a hunger strike on November 24 in an attempt to get the attention of the Greek government and the slow-to-respond media, the government said the refugees’ only option was to apply for asylum in Greece. The Greek government says it is neither able to issue a travel document allowing the refugees to travel in Europe, nor to provide accommodation for all the Syrian refugees, many of whom had been sleeping in an Athens park before moving to Syntagma Square.

Several of the protesting refugees have fainted from hunger and cold and required hospitalization. True, Greece is still struggling to extricate itself from a recession and 26% unemployment, but why can’t it at least let the refugees leave? (The answer: a flawed European law.) And how can a company spend a million dollars on decorations? How much food, shelter, and medical care could that money provide? (A lot; I’ve emailed them to ask for a tiny fraction of that for Adeeb.) While those decorations may bring joy to many New Yorkers and tourists, the cost seems excessive to someone who's become accustomed to the modest, reusable decorations typical of cash-strapped Greece. Even in glamorous New York City, where everything's done on a different scale, surely one or two Christmas tree cutouts or giant wreaths could be sacrificed; it’s likely that viewers will survive with only $997,000, or maybe even a mere $500,000, worth of decorations from one company. But I don’t know if the refugees will all make it.