Elections, Incursions, Examinations, Diversions

Their Patience Has Ended, But No Earthquake Here

Although they have participated in over 20,000 demonstrations and protest rallies since the beginning of the bailout program in May 2010 ("The cost of protests"), Greeks can also be amazingly patient with the situation in their country. They wait uncomplainingly for hours to see doctors without even bothering to bring reading material, they only occasionally shout at drivers who stop their cars where they block traffic, they pay thousands of euros for public school students to make up for the deficiencies of those schools in private evening classes, and they hardly murmur about school closings on the Monday and Friday surrounding each Sunday election, regardless of child care difficulties for working parents. One of the most common responses to any complaint in Greece—after τί να κάνουμε, tee nah kahnoomeh (what can we do?)—is υπομονή, eepoemoenee (patience)—as loyal readers of my blog will already know. Drives me crazy, partly because I didn’t grow up even partly conditioned to endure the inefficient, illogical, inconsiderate aspects of modern Greek life, which leaves me intolerant of a lot that goes on here and generally impatient with the stock responses. I don’t see why Greeks are so patient about all of this, or why they should be patient in the face of round after round of governmental budget cuts, tax hikes, firings, pension and health care cuts, failed businesses, unemployment of more than a quarter of those seeking jobs, and the inability to make ends meet. But then I noticed that one of the recent campaign posters states, “Our patience has ended.” It’s about time. And so said many Greek voters on May 25—but not all of them.

Before the May 18 elections of town council members, mayors, and prefectural governors, the May 25 runoffs for those elections, and the May 25 European Parliament elections, politicians seemed inclined to stir up yet another storm of anxiety by warning (once again) that the outcome could change the course of the country for the worse. The (once surprising) centrist governing coalition of the conservative New Democracy and Panhellenic Socialist Movement (PASOK) parties cautioned that too many votes for the main opposition party, the Coalition of the Radical Left (SYRIZA), could undo the supposed progress the country has made since the austerity program of the bailout began—statistical economic progress the government loves to boast about, but only economists and the wealthy seem to actually see in any concrete form. New Democracy emphasized their slogan, a call for continuing “stathera vimata brosta,” or “steady steps forward,” warning that SYRIZA’s plan to hold “snap” national elections for prime minister and Greek Parliament as soon as possible if their party led the vote count by at least 4-6% could destabilize the country, and discussing a tax decrease for 2015 after all the tax increases of recent years. SYRIZA leader Alexis Tsipras billed the elections as referenda on whether Greeks wanted a new government, promising to undo many of the austerity measures that so many have protested against since the crisis began, to raise the minimum wage and increase unemployment compensation, if he should gain power. The stock markets reacted with nervousness to the specter of unexpected national elections, wondering again if Greek instability threatened the world economy. On the other hand, amused by unusual signs of positive local governmental activity--new trees planted in our neighborhood playground for the first time in 11 years--I didn’t even bother stocking up on groceries, because this warning of instability has become an old story here—besides which, I have quite a lot of supermarket staples, given all the 40-50% off sales meant to entice people without money to buy more.

Despite the hopes of SYRIZA, we didn’t experience the “earthquake” that the French prime minister felt in France when the anti-immigration, anti-euro National Front party led in the polls, and I’m not sure the New York Times is quite right that “insurgent forces from the far right and, in Greece’s case, also from the radical left stunned the established political parties” here, although they may have stunned them elsewhere in Europe ("Populists’ Rise in Europe Vote Shakes Leaders"). In Greece, polls had already (accurately) predicted SYRIZA’s victory in European Parliament elections, although Greeks were surprised by the extent of SYRIZA’s triumph in the race for governor of Attica, and indeed many have been dismayed by the strong showing of the neo-Nazi party Golden Dawn, in third place with 9.4 percent of the votes. SYRIZA earned more votes than New Democracy in the European Parliament election (26.6% vs. 22.7%), but New Democracy’s plus PASOK’s share of the votes (via their new Elia, or Olive Tree, alliance with some other center leftists, 8%) equaled more than SYRIZA’s. So the governing coalition seems likely to remain in power for now, and it has felt free to reject SYRIZA’s continuing call for new national elections as soon as possible. Greece doesn’t have a regular election cycle or election day as we do in the U. S.; there are dates by which new officials must be elected, but if a governing party or coalition (“the government”) does not retain the confidence of a majority of parliamentarians or the people, rather sudden elections may be called earlier than expected, and the country’s government and policies could change with little notice. This is what investors were afraid of: political instability leading to financial instability.

Americans may be more aware of the results of the Ukrainian presidential vote on May 25 and more concerned about the significance of the Syrian elections, but as Egyptians began to vote and Europeans finished counting their ballots for European Parliamentarians, Greeks were largely focused on what their elections meant for the future of this small, struggling country. It’s fascinating to see how different Greek newspapers characterized the election results: a win for everyone, a win for no one, or a win for the party they support. (That’s evident in “European elections - a win, but no landslide, for Alexis Tsipras.”) The leftist SYRIZA won the most votes in the election for European Parliament, as well as a surprising, impressive victory for their candidate for governor of Greece’s most populous region of Attica (where Athens is) and a near-victory (but eventual defeat) for their candidate for Athens mayor. However, they earned a slightly lower percentage of the votes than they did in 2012. The major partner in the governing coalition, the conservative centrist New Democracy, lagged behind but won the majority of the vote in many parts of Greece, and did not lose too many of the votes they’d earned before these recent years of association with punishing austerity measures, considering all they’ve been blamed for. The socialist PASOK hopes its involvement in the new center-left Elia coalition heralds a new beginning for the party that earned 44% of the vote in 2009, but only 8% for its coalition now. (See, for example, “European election result: the left scores a historic win and facism rears its head” and “Has our political system reached rock bottom?”) So people who are more or less satisfied with the status quo—or at least see it as the least threatening of the current political choices—heaved a sigh of relief. But those who are totally dissatisfied with the austerity-induced 26.5% unemployment, decreased salaries, pensions, and benefits, and long lists of problems here emphasize that the share of votes given to SYRIZA and other new or formerly fringe political parties underscores a high level of discontent with a political establishment that is dominated by wealthy, elite families and is often considered corrupt and untrustworthy.

Another Blow for the Old Guard: Unsettling the Establishment

The Greek political and electoral systems differ from the American ones. Once upon a time, from the end of the dictatorship in 1974 until 2010, Greece did have a more or less two-party system, at least in terms of who was really in power. Even then, that system left room in Parliament for various others, including leftists (such as communist parties) and rightists (for example, nationalists). But it has been seriously eroded since average Greeks and the rest of the world learned just what a mess the Greek economy and political system were in back in 2010. That caused the immediate downfall of the party then in power, which was PASOK, although it was not solely responsible for that mess. After a brief government by technocrats brought to power under the wing of the Troika of the European Commission, the European Central Bank, and the International Monetary Fund and their “memorandum” of agreement for extreme austerity in exchange for the enormous financial bailout of Greece, the more conservative centrist party, New Democracy (ND), won a larger portion of votes than any other party, but not the majority required by Greek law to govern on its own. So its leader, American-educated Antonis Samaras, negotiated a coalition with the leader of PASOK, Evangelos Venizelos, and the smaller Democratic Left party, which provided the coalition with the majority in parliament which Greek law requires to “form a government.” After divisive arguments over various policy moves, the coalition’s majority has been whittled down to two or three votes: Democratic Left left the coalition in protest over Samaras’s sudden closing of the public radio and television broadcaster last spring, and several PASOK and ND members of parliament were ejected from their parties (yes, ejected!) for failing to toe the party line.

As an American, I was surprised that SYRIZA’s victory in the national European Parliament election was hailed as a “historic” first for a leftist party in Greece, because I’d considered the socialist PASOK, which had led the country for decades, leftist. But by Greek standards I suppose those socialists were more centrist than leftist, even before their present role in a coalition with conservatives. In spite of their historic victory, Alexis Tsipras and his SYRIZA colleagues apparently did not convince enough voters that they had consistent, workable solutions to the problems caused by excessive austerity measures and years of corruption and mismanagement to earn a clear mandate to take over the government. While their promises of a better life for working people did appeal to more voters than any other messages, promises, or past records, a fair amount of faith in New Democracy’s plans to stick to the memorandum of agreement for the bailout, along with ND’s claims that the economy is now improving and things can only get better here, is also evident. Acknowledging that it’s gotten the message that Greeks are not happy with the way things are, the governing coalition is now planning a major cabinet reshuffle and promising to work hard on economic growth, job creation, and tax reductions. There is even some talk of a broader coalition that would better represent all Greeks, although I suspect that the political climate is too heated for that much cooperation.

The lack of a majority consensus and the downfall of the old political elite are emphasized by the large number of parties competing for votes--43 for European Parliament and almost as many for local elections in Chania. Greeks voted for their preferred party on 5.5 X 14 inch paper ballots for European parliament (yes, a lot of parties, and a lot of paper!), including an animal husbandry party, a Trotskyite party, an anti-capitalist party, four communist parties, two socialist ones, two environmentalist parties, and a large collection of centrist and right wing parties whose names don’t identify their ideologies so clearly. Some of the successful candidates, such as the new mayor of the major port city of Pireas, are primarily associated with soccer teams. Even SYRIZA won barely more than a quarter of the votes. The barely-defined new party To Potami, or The River, made a relatively strong showing in fifth place, as did one of several communist parties in sixth place, so it’s clear that no single party will satisfy any majority of Greeks. Many don’t know where to turn--to the right, to the left, or to the center.

Most troubling, to many of us here, is 9.4% of voters’ sharp right turn toward the neo-Nazi Golden Dawn party, even with several of its leaders and members in jail facing criminal charges which include links to violence against immigrants and leftists (see, for example, “Golden Dawn leader and No 2 jailed before trial”), as if almost a tenth of voters believe scapegoating people from outside Greece is the solution to the country’s problems. Last year, when the governing coalition finally decided to crack down on some Golden Dawn members and leaders for their alleged links to crimes, charging them and jailing them pending trial, I thought ordinary Greeks would recognize how dangerous the group is. However, the move seems to have backfired, as Golden Dawn claims to be the victim of a political witch hunt, hands out free food to Greeks who show their IDs to prove their nationality, and helps elderly Greeks make their way safely through crime-ridden streets in Athens. Golden Dawn provides some services that the austerity-starved state does not offer, so now even many non-fascist Greeks look to them for help. This shift toward xenophobic ultra-nationalist parties has been recognized as a phenomenon throughout Europe, where such parties made significant gains in European Parliament membership, along with other “Euro-sceptic” parties who don’t believe the European Union should continue to exist.  

Here in Greece, voting took place in privately curtained voting booths in schools (and occasionally other public buildings). Voters had the option of marking crosses next to particular names on long lists of parties’ candidates (42 names, for example, on one), or simply folding the paper for their chosen party and sealing it in the envelope provided before dropping the envelope into a clear ballot box. There is no electronic voting here, although Greeks don’t necessarily vote in the district where they currently live; many remain registered in their hometown or village, due to strong sentimental ties to the place and a desire for reunions with old friends and family. This provides one explanation for the Friday and Monday school closings surrounding each Sunday that’s an election day (probably so almost no one has to show up for work, and many can make a holiday of it). Another explanation is that public workers must set up and take down voting booths and ballot boxes during regular working hours—a bigger job than in the U. S., since with no school gym in most towns, all the school rooms tend to be used, with people divided among rooms alphabetically. So after two weeks of Easter vacation and one May Day holiday, four more lost school days left my kids with a total of 29 days at school in April and May—minus another one for my son’s field trip, 28, and minus three for my daughter’s field trips and teacher’s personal day, 26. One parent assured me that that’s okay, because Greeks learn fast. They’d better.

The Rites and Rains of School and Spring

It rained mud the other week, and again the other day—or at least rained very muddy drops. I didn’t believe that could really happen before I moved to Crete, but a look at all the cars after such a rain makes it clear—as mud. Sounds like Greek politics or education. The major concern of Greek high school seniors and their parents has now shifted away from politics, to the dreaded annual Panhellenic university entrance exams, when 105,000 students compete “for 70,305 spots, which will determine whether they will get into their university or technical college of choice”—or any public college or university in Greece ("Greek seniors start battle for university placement"). I’ve complained at length about the Greek educational system already (see my October 2013 blog), but I have to admit that some surprising, impressive successes do emerge from it, such as the Athens Law School students’ first-place finish in “the global Moot Court Competition on May 18 at the World Trade Organization headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland, beating a team from Harvard University” ("Greek law students take first prize at Moot Court"). What is even more impressive: a public secondary education is free for the students who pass these horrendous exams. That’s an amazing reward, from an American perspective, but simply an entitlement, in the Greek view. The problem is that it follows a cruel feat of endurance that costs parents thousands of euros, and students years of childhood. Those years and euros are lost because so many teens have to give up many, if not all, their extracurricular activities (most of them not offered at public schools, either) in order to attend costly private night school classes which may run until 10:00 or later—after which they are expected to study for both public and private school lessons. The struggle comes early in Greece, rather than lasting for years, as it does for American college students who pile up outrageous debts.

College-bound Greek high school seniors are known to work harder than anyone else in the country, so I figure they’re totally burnt out and ready for time off when they enter university—which explains frequently lackluster academic performances as university students, especially in the first year or two. (As I’ve said, there are important exceptions to this.) But before they can begin their often relaxed university careers, they must do a very good job regurgitating memorized material on seven three-hour exams taken on different days from May 28 to June 12. Parents share their children’s stress and take time off work to wait outside schools during exam hours. Never mind high school achievement or extracurricular activities—this is it. For those who think SATs and ACTs are bad, just look at the Greek system; a recent evaluation calls it the worst in Europe ("Greek education ranked worst in the EU"). But if nearly one quarter of the Greek population (including babies and small children) cannot pay their taxes ("Debts to state grow by over 1 bln euros every month"), the Troika insists on more and more budget cutbacks, and a large percentage of Greeks also work for the private school or tutoring system that prepares students for entrance exams, how can the situation be improved? This is another question to which Greeks respond with τί να κάνουμε (what can we do?) and υπομονή (patience)—or ας’ το, “oss toe” (leave it, as in “I don’t want to think about it”).

So let’s change the subject. The day before the first round of municipal and district elections, we drove through a maze of Chania streets, then turned toward Theriso, in the foothills of the White Mountains. Theriso itself is more interesting theoretically, as the birthplace of the great statesman Eleftherios Venizelos, than as a place to visit, aside from two small, picturesque churches and a multitude of tavernas to serve the tourists on one of the little open-sided train-buses you’d expect to see in an amusement park parking lot rather than a Greek mountain village. Maybe we missed something, aside from the historical monuments and small former school that’s become a museum focused on the Greek resistance fight during WWII, but the drive through the Theriso Gorge struck me as more intriguing than the village. I love these Cretan gorges, with their winding roads between irregular, steeply rising rock walls, some wooded, some rough, and others smooth, exposing the varied colors of mineral deposits smoothed down by the elements. In the little museum in Theriso, some of the photos of resistance fighters were blocked by two makeshift voting booths, with large, heavy-duty clear plastic boxes ready to hold completed ballots on election day. The two young girls staffing the museum said voting took place there because there were no longer enough children in the village for it to have its own school.

Farther along the single-lane road that winds through the hills beyond the village, we found the Dounias Taverna or “Traditional Center of Gastronomy of the Cretan Diet,” as they advertise, with its most appealing tables across the road, on a hill with a tranquil view of forested valleys. Owner Stelios Trilirakis proudly showed us into the kitchen, with its multitude of clay pots full of rich dishes prepared from local organically-grown produce and livestock. A procession of creatively prepared foods soon began to trickle out to our table, from the unusual mixed salad of purslane, artichoke, tomato, olives, and more to the tzatziki made with carrots and the surprisingly rich, filling cauliflower with carrots and hondros (a sort of homemade dried bread). The procession of foods did not stop with what we ordered; several additional samples, including meat and stuffed vegetables, appeared courtesy of Stelios, even after D declared himself too full to eat another bite and the kids and I gave up trying to fit more into our stomachs and wandered off with Stelios’s small son to see their rabbits, chickens, turkeys, pigs, and cow and pick a few of the wildflowers still blooming at this higher elevation. Yet that profusion of tasty food was followed by a plate of loquats and an astonishingly reasonable bill. Completely stuffed, we headed home by a different route below some of the stunning cloudy skies of Crete that tourists miss during summer's clear blue heat. Winding along a narrow road toward Aptera, we reached a high plateau with an impressive view of Souda Bay, Chania, and the Akrotiri Peninsula spread out below us.

Most of the wildflowers in our area have dried up and been mowed down, which contributes to my occasionally more depressed mood as one of my distractions from the reality facing me in Greece has been removed. However, friendly gestures and words, walks and gatherings, explorations and excursions provide welcome diversions. An older woman I don’t know gave me a gardenia as I photographed her bougainvillea. I discovered a new place to walk over some very rough rocks with a gorgeous view of sea, sky, and Chania. On May Day, we joined a small, low-key neighborhood gathering around a little church near the sea and continued the tradition of gathering flowers for our May wreaths, and our favorite family restaurant, Sunset Restaurant in Tersanas, opened again for the season. May Day should really be the first of March or April in Crete, since we have so many more wildflowers in bloom then, in addition to May’s thistle, mournful widow, and wild carrot; as it is, wreath makers have to resort to raiding gardens, where roses, bougainvillea, honeysuckle, jasmine, and oleander have begun to bloom profusely beside the year-round geranium blossoms. Those gardens provide cheery bright spots, along with the summer fruit coming into season. Cherries hang in bunches and lie heaped in piles for sale next to honeydew at the farmers’ market, which we might consider the cornucopia of Crete. This can remind us that while we live in no paradise, we have so much more of the good things we want and need here than so many people of the world, including sustenance, shelter, peace, and security. As Greeks say, if we have our health, the rest can wait.

 

Sun and Showers, Thorns and Flowers: The Everyday, the Holiday, “Vacation,” and Escape

That’s Life (In Greece)

Ups and downs, naturally. Two weeks of Easter vacation for all Greek students are great for the kids, but not for the moms who are expected to do a considerable amount of holiday prep work on top of the extra childcare—unless grandmothers are available for that--whether or not they have paying jobs. Driving up to the supermarket to stock up on tissues and paper towels while they’re 40% cheaper than usual, I came up behind a pickup truck full of sheep that was following two other pickup trucks full of sheep—perhaps part of the same flock that blocked the road into our neighborhood as they were herded through the streets one evening. Heading back down the hill to build tissue and paper towel towers in my bedroom, I trailed a small, slow motorbike whose two passengers seemed to be engaged in an animated discussion or argument, judging by the expansive gestures that could be confused with frequent left and right turn signals and the way the helmeted driver kept turning his head back to look at his un-helmeted passenger. That’s driving in Greece for you.

On the “down” side: a light fixture hasn’t been working in one room; our new-ish dishwasher was broken for about two weeks, even after being “repaired” twice; a cat sprayed one balcony shutter and French door one day; ants invaded the kitchen floor another day; a cat climbed way up to a high kitchen window to spray right through that screen; a new army of ants attacked some juice spilled on the kitchen counter. “That’s life,” commented a Greek friend. Maybe too much “life” all at once. And then a week later our telephone land line stopped working, along with all the land lines on the whole Akrotiri Peninsula, if rumors can be believed. Although the early-morning problem wasn’t resolved until mid-afternoon, no one I asked knew what had caused it or when it might be fixed. That’s typical: generally, I can find no one in the neighborhood, and only a select few at the relevant offices, who know what's going on during water, electricity, internet, or phone outages, since almost no one else bothers to try to look into the problem or report it! D usually just feels too annoyed and busy to call about it, figuring it’ll be discovered and fixed eventually in any case, but he sometimes calls at my urging. If I'm desperate to make plans about when I’ll actually have electricity or internet again to prepare a meal or finish some work, I try calling myself, but I don't usually understand most of the response, which always comes in swiftly-spoken advanced Greek. 


On the “up” side: new flowers and fruits increase the rewards of foraging in the neighborhood. Since some fruit seemed to be dropping from my neighbor’s tree and spoiling, I asked if I might pick a few of her loquats, which are called DESpoless here and known elsewhere in Greece as MOOZmoola—a word I enjoy almost as much as karPOOzee, or watermelon. The yellowish or light orange loquats range from cherry to plum size, pear to plum shape, with a taste that combines apricot, peach, plum, and grape—a taste I’d never experienced before moving here. Kyria K responded to my request by inviting me into her yard, getting out her ladder, and encouraging me to pick all the fruit on the tree and give her just a little of it. So instead of a few minutes and a few loquats, I ended up with an hour’s activity and two large bags of fruit, one for us and one for her! I’ve also harvested even sweeter, larger loquats from a very productive tree in an unoccupied lot which doesn’t seem to interest anyone else. This is a fruit that is both expensive and much better when eaten fresh off the tree; then it can hold the sweet taste of the Cretan spring--and of Greek generosity.

 

Showers of Blossoms, Meadows of Thorns, Winds of Change

Multitudes of tiny olive blossoms fall on me in little showers of white if I bump a branch, landing on the ground like a light snowfall. It’s no longer so easy to search the field next to an olive grove for the wildflowers to which I'm addicted, since it’s more a matter of wading through tall, dry seeded grasses and cautiously picking my way between sharp and thorny plants than walking blithely through the shorter, greener grasses of our winter and early spring in search of a bouquet. Anyhow, there aren’t too many flowers left there aside from the treacherous purple thistle, now that a farmer has mown the grass, weeds, and flowers--even my favorite bright pink field gladiolas--that would otherwise draw nutrients away from the olive trees or prove a fire hazard in the dry summer. But while the ubiquitous color of abundant early spring is already being replaced by hardier, less friendly plants now that the sun has become stronger, some fragrant, brilliantly orange and yellow nasturtiums escaped from gardens, and the large lantana (or shrub verbena) bushes full of tiny pink, yellow, orange and white blossom clusters are flourishing now, along with the geraniums that bloom here year-round, adding color to the drama of partly cloudy skies on windy days. I still occasionally discover new species of wildflowers, as well, including strange flowers such as a dragon arum and another arum plant I can’t identify, which looks like an elongated candle flame protected by a large white, pointed hood edged with dark purple and shaded by huge leaves.

Strong island winds (22-34 mph, or more, at times) have kept us allergy sufferers inside a lot lately as olive branches wave wildly, and dust and pollens scatter. At least recent days have featured more westerly winds rather than the southerly gusts that bring African sand and an eerie semi-cloudiness that limits visibility and coats everything in light films of dirt. On one windy walk around the Old Port of Chania, we were treated to impressive shows of sea spray as waves crashed against rocks to the west of the port. With such strong winds, the weather can change suddenly. Just a little rain blew in to replace the earlier sun today (unlike

the serious spring showers of another week) before the clouds blew away to reveal the sun again—and then returned to hide it. During Holy Week, we had two or three days in the 80s, but as soon as I washed the winter coats my kids had barely worn since January, intending to retire them for the season, they were needed for a chilly Good Friday evening service. 

Greek Orthodox Easter Traditions  

Easter is by far the biggest holiday of the year in this predominantly Greek Orthodox country, considerably more important than Christmas, with at least as long a school vacation (2 weeks, just finished). A minority of Greeks fast during the entire 40 days of Lent (not eating animal products, including fish and dairy, with limits on oil and wine); most do not fast, or do so for shorter periods, such as one or two days before communion during Holy Week. Highlights of the holidays include Good Friday’s candle-lit processions around neighborhoods following a flower-covered bier that holds an icon depicting the preparation of Christ for burial and represents the tomb of Christ (epitaphios); the midnight celebration of the resurrection with its singing of “Christos anesti” (Christ is risen) and spreading of the symbolic eternal flame from candle to candle through the darkness, followed by dangerous fireworks and gunshots into the air outside some churches, and the burning of an effigy of Judas (clothes filled with dried grasses) near others. On Easter, it’s the custom to hit a red boiled egg against another’s egg, to see whose cracks last; lamb (or sometimes goat) is roasted on a spit as part of the Easter feast with friends and family. Greeks don’t just say “Happy Easter” or even “Hronia Polla,” their universal holiday wish for many years (of good health, presumably); on and after Easter, they first greet each other not by saying Kalimera (good morning, good day), but with “Christos anesti,” Christ is risen, and they respond to that with “Alithos anesti,” He is truly risen. It’s not all about chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs here; they’re part of the celebration, but less important than the fancily decorated candle (the lampada) that children receive from godparents and light during or after the celebration of the resurrection, and of course far less important than the resurrection itself.

After an Easter feast at the home of good friends, we left with another dozen or so fresh eggs from their hens to top off our collection of colorful boiled eggs. Last year, fed up with eating the questionable ingredients in commercial egg dyes that always stained egg whites, I vowed to try vegetable dyes this year. So I spent a whole afternoon experimenting with beets and purple cabbage (the biggest success, for a reddish color, and blue), red wine with balsamic vinegar (an interesting deep mottled rust color after a night dying in the fridge), spinach with green tea, and cumin (a waste of time). Although most Greeks still dye all their eggs (which are often brown, to begin with) the traditional bright red (reminiscent of the cloak of Christ when he was crucified, or a miraculous color transformation of some of Mary Magdalene’s eggs to convince a doubter that Christ had risen from the dead), some now use a variety of colors, as I always have. I think I’ll use the beets, purple cabbage, and something orange next year, since I couldn’t seem to make brown eggs turn green, let alone yellow. No green eggs OR ham here—red eggs and goat or lamb instead.

 

Rebirth from the Ashes, Escape from Care: The Botanical Park & Gardens of Crete

This is my favorite place to go to escape worries about the financial crisis, decreasing health insurance benefits, the health of my aging mother in law, the dumping of the remains of chemical weapons in the sea where we swim (which is strongly opposed on posters and in rallies), and my children’s education (given questionable policies, teaching methods, strikes, and occupations). I have not seen or heard of any evidence around here to support the government’s claim that the economy is improving. But at the Botanical Park, I can escape thoughts about the 27% of the population that’s still unemployed, the people without health insurance or any regular income, the immigrants facing increasing ethnocentrism and poverty, and even worse problems and deeper pain in such places as Syria, Korea, Washington state, and perhaps now parts of Ukraine. I keep reminding myself how fortunate I am to have the means, location, and ability to escape such worries, instead of being overcome and imprisoned by the grim reality that defines so many people’s lives.


About a half hour from Chania, driving toward Mt. Omalos through unremarkable villages until we reach expansive orange groves and approach the foothills of the mountains, we find the Botanical Park and Gardens of Crete. The park was conceived about a decade ago, after a wildfire destroyed all the olive groves and orange orchards in the area. Since then, acres of fire-ravaged hillside have been wonderfully transformed by a hard-working, knowledgeable, dedicated team of four brothers who decided to create an organic paradise of various microclimates below a hilltop restaurant that features windows and patios overlooking the foothills and gardens. As I’ve watched the fruit trees, orange groves, and grapevines grow during repeated visits over the years, I’ve found that the restaurant has also produced increasingly sophisticated and tasty dishes using organic produce from the gardens and orchards. Two dishes I’ve eaten there--one plate of pork tenderloin with figs and Metaxa brandy sauce and another of chicken with citrus sauce--were so strikingly ornamented (one with tzatziki and tropical fruits, another with rose petals and orange slices) that I couldn’t begin eating until I had photographed them.


But I really love to go there for the walk: starting with a view of hills and valleys dotted with neatly spaced olive trees, down the terraced hillsides with tropical fruit trees and exotic flowers, into the cool shade of chestnut and cherry trees, up again through fragrant herb gardens, around and down past the tadpole pond, the Japanese maples and calla lilies, the giant papyrus, the dogwood, and the only bamboo I’ve seen in Greece (flourishing, like almost everything else in those gardens!), down into the valley’s lush green of nut and plane trees, through the orange and tangerine groves to the large pond, around the pond and past the roaming peacocks to visit the Cretan goats (kri kri), the deer, and the donkey, then up the terraces on the far side of the hill, through nectarine and apricot orchards and a vineyard, walking on paths edged with colorful geraniums and magnificent rose bushes, meeting more surprises on the way.
 
Alongside common Greek herbs and flowers, we encounter exotic trees and unusual, showy blossoms, such as the striking bird of paradise and others I’d never seen anywhere. Every year, I notice that the four brothers have made improvements: added more informative signs (with one in Russian this year!), distributed more picturesque vessels, sculptures, tools, tables, rustic wooden seating, or antique farm equipment alongside the path, and this year expanded the parking lot, provided a canvas sun cover for the small amphitheater, and planted a terraced vegetable garden just below the restaurant. It’s still early in the season, so the restaurant wasn’t too busy when we ate there, but it gets very full some Sundays at midday, both in winter and summer. The adult admission price of 6 euros for the walk is worth paying, and so well used. Someone there—maybe Kostas, who studied organic agriculture, but says he’s still learning from experience—thinks of everything from the informative and philosophical (on signs scattered alongside the trail) to the amusing (a tree hung with gardening implements in an orchard). We often linger for two hours on a walk that could take half the time (with great discipline and far less curiosity and interest in flowers and photography). While our children may need reminders that we can feed the ducks and geese we often see near the pond, or rewards and incentives of dried fruits and chocolates on the long climb back up the hill, there is so much to observe that I don’t even notice that I’m walking until I reach the uphill switchback return through orchards and a vineyard spotted with daisies, geraniums, artichokes, and other flowers. I emerge from the path tired but rejuvenated: that’s an invigorating place to spend a spring (or fall) day.