Halloween -- Greek Style

 

Jeff—Saturday

Halloween is tomorrow.   Kwei's post on Wednesday explained the roots of Halloween, and revealed that though few places in the world appear to celebrate it, many do have similar holidays. Greece falls in the latter category, and Kwei's post reminded me of a blog I put up a half-dozen years ago.  I was going to write about how this year the scariest Halloween make-up may be the mask-less look, but feared that might be too political for the times. So, instead, here's my redo of "It's Halloween or Not" in Greece, accompanied by a big and embracing BOO!

In past years I often ended my time in Greece on Halloween.  My reasoning was simple.  Returning to New York City on Halloween meant that many of the same characters I’d grown used to seeing on Mykonos would be out in force on the streets of Manhattan.

Besides, I wasn’t missing out on any Greek ghouls or goblins (at least not of the unelected sort), because Halloween is virtually non-existent in Greece, except by expats for their children and some places catering to tourists.  That’s not meant to suggest Greeks don’t like to party in costume—the ancients invented it.  Modern Greeks do it big time during Apokries, a three-week festival preceding Greek Orthodox Lent (think February), also known as Carnival.  I’ve described those festivities of Lent before (It’s Mardi Gras Time in Greece), but this time I thought I’d concentrate on the costumes.

As reported a few years back on a website called Hubpages :

Adults dress up and throw parties or frequent the town cafes and bars dressed in masks, wigs and funny, scary or risqué costumes. For example men often dress up as outrageous women with high heels, short skirts, huge inflated false boobs and an overdose of lipstick, blusher and false eyelashes. Others may dress up as priests or wear masks of well known politicians, actors or film characters. They often carry props such as plastic battons, streamers, confetti, tins of foam, whistles and clackers; all adding to the rowdy party atmosphere.

Children - even babies - enjoy the fun too of course... masquerade parties are held in villages and schools for the young ones, who dress up in all manner of costumes from witches and warlocks to telly tubbies and angels.

Masqueraders use their disguises and masks to call anonymously at the houses of friends and neighbours, who try to guess their identities.

Cakes and sweets are offered to the masquerading children on these house calls, or shots of whisky or the local fire water to adults in disguise. This is usually a ploy to entice the masquerader to remove his mask to uncover his identity!

 So similarly there is a kind of trick or treating here in Greek Apokries, but ..... they get to do both. The treat is offered - the sweet, cake or whisky, but is then usually followed by the trick - throwing confetti, streamers or foam all around the house (yes I know it's tame, and just in fun, but you try cleaning up tons of the stuff from your carpet!).

At the end of the three-week period Apokries culminates with the Grand Carnival Parades which are held all across Greece. The largest and most famous of which is held in Patras. There are also large parades held in Athens and in Rethymnon, Crete, amongst many others.

I can't wait until NYC is back in full swing, and once again gets to dress up and let loose big time with the Big Apple's famed Greenwich Village Halloween Parade.

But once again this year I’ll be the wilds of New Jersey, wondering if those who stop by in bear, deer, or coyote costume are simply treat seekers dressed in life-like animal couture, or the real deal.  Perhaps I should ask each visitor to grunt, snort, or yip before giving them what they're want, then judge their authenticity from the reactions.  Then again, perhaps that's unwise...after all, two-legged creatures can be notoriously unpredictable.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

—Jeff

 

Jeff’s Events

 

Thursday, November 18, 2021 @ 16:00

ICELAND NOIR, Iðnó Theater

Reykjavic, Iceland

Panelist, Murderous Islands

with Katrin Juliusdottir, Michael Ridpath, William Ryan (Moderator)

It's Halloween! Or is it?

Jeff—Saturday

Halloween is tonight. BOO!

In past years I’ve generally ended my six months in Greece on this day.  My reasoning was simple.  Returning to New York City on Halloween meant that many of the same characters I’d grown used to seeing on Mykonos would be out in force on the streets of Manhattan.

Besides, I wasn’t missing out on any Greek ghouls or goblins (at least not of the unelected sort), because Halloween is virtually non-existent in Greece, except by expats for their children and some places catering to tourists.  That’s not meant to suggest Greeks don’t like to party in costume—the ancients invented it.  Modern Greeks do it big time during Apokries, a three-week festival preceding Greek Orthodox Lent (think February), also known as Carnival.  I’ve described those festivities of Lent before (It’s Mardi Gras Time in Greece), but today I thought I’d concentrate on the costumes.

As reported a few years back on a website called Hubpages :

Adults dress up and throw parties or frequent the town cafes and bars dressed in masks, wigs and funny, scary or risqué costumes. For example men often dress up as outrageous women with high heels, short skirts, huge inflated false boobs and an overdose of lipstick, blusher and false eyelashes. Others may dress up as priests or wear masks of well known politicians, actors or film characters. They often carry props such as plastic battons, streamers, confetti, tins of foam, whistles and clackers; all adding to the rowdy party atmosphere.

Children - even babies - enjoy the fun too of course... masquerade parties are held in villages and schools for the young ones, who dress up in all manner of costumes from witches and warlocks to telly tubbies and angels.

Masqueraders use their disguises and masks to call anonymously at the houses of friends and neighbours, who try to guess their identities.

Cakes and sweets are offered to the masquerading children on these house calls, or shots of whisky or the local fire water to adults in disguise. This is usually a ploy to entice the masquerader to remove his mask to uncover his identity!

 So similarly there is a kind of trick or treating here in Greek Apokries, but ..... they get to do both. The treat is offered - the sweet, cake or whisky, but is then usually followed by the trick - throwing confetti, streamers or foam all around the house (yes I know it's tame, and just in fun, but you try cleaning up tons of the stuff from your carpet!).

At the end of the three-week period Apokries culminates with the Grand Carnival Parades which are held all across Greece. The largest and most famous of which is held in Patras. There are also large parades held in Athens and in Rethymnon, Crete, amongst many others.

Tonight will be NYC’s turn to show how dress up is done big time in the Big Apple with the famed Greenwich Village Halloween Parade.

But I’ll be in Portland Oregon. :(  Then again, there’s still a chance I’ll meet up with some bizarre, not from this planet creature.  After all EvKa has promised to join up with Tim Hallinan and me at Annie Bloom’s Books for our joint book event this Monday, November 2^nd, at 7 PM.

I’m so afraid.

—Jeff

It's Carnival Time in Greece.

I think it’s time to write about what I see as the essence of what it means to be a modern-day Greek living in Greece.  I’m talking about what makes the Greek soul tick. 

To me, whether you’re Greek or not, tiny momentary pleasures are what buoy up sagging spirits, bond us to our roots, remind us of our heritage, and reinforce our choice of worship.

Finding satisfaction in the simple acts of living is an essential ingredient of the Greek way of life.  Perhaps that’s what draws me to them so strongly. Even in winter there is joy to be found in everyday Greek life: coffee with friends in a cafenion, a stroll by the sea, a gaze up toward the mountains.  And every so often the entire country joins together in celebration of the glory of life that is Greek. Today’s blog falls in the middle of just such a time.

Burnt Thursday on Mykonos Streets

This past Thursday was Tsiknopempti, eleven days before the beginning of Greek Orthodox Lent. “Pempti” means Thursday, and though tsikno is somewhat hard to translate, most settle on “burnt” and translate Tskinopempti as “Burnt Thursday.”  It signals the beginning of a carnival atmosphere in many parts of Greece.

Actually, carnival season in Greece commences weeks before the start of Lent with the opening of a sacred text (Triodion), but that occurs in a sedate church service.  True Greek-style partying doesn’t actually kickoff in most places until Burnt Thursday, a day of engulfing smoke and scents from endless grills sizzling with meats, for it kicks off the last “legal” weekend for red meat eaters to indulge in their carnivore passions.

Which brings to mind something many of you may not know.  Carnival comes from the Latin carne (meat) and vale (goodbye), and the name for carnival time in Greece is Apokreas, derived from how an ancient (partying?) Greek would literally say goodbye to meat (kreas). And let’s not forget that those ancient Greeks knew how to party. The dancing, drinking, and feasting associated with Greece’s carnival today—not to mention all that masquerade dress-up—is a direct descendant of those reveling worshipers of Dionysis, the Greek God of Wine and Feast. 

Bet you never thought to add Greece’s Patras to the list of Mardi Gras hotspot cities like Rio de Janeiro and New Orleans?  Unless, of course, you’re Greek and know the partying runs right up until Lent. 

Back to Tsiknopempti.  Though it may be the time for saying goodbye to meat, dairy lovers get a break for another week—called white or cheese week.  But come that second Monday after Tsiknopempti (called Clean Monday (aka Kathara Deftera)), the consumption of all red-blooded animals and of anything derived from those critters is forbidden.  No meat, fish, milk, cheese, yogurt, eggs, etcetera.  

Contrary to what you might think, Greeks see Clean Monday as a day for rejoicing—and I’m not talking about just the vegetarians among them. It’s a national holiday widely held to signal the start of Spring, a day for kite flying, trips to the seaside or mountains, and a picnic feast on foods still allowed.

And there are many: Lagana, an unleavened flat bread traditionally served and eaten only on Clean Monday; taramosalata, a tasty dip made of cod or carp roe; fava (split pea) puree; yigandes, giant kastoria beans in a casserole with tomatoes, onions, herbs, and spices; salads of marouli (romaine lettuce), three beans (fassolia), and perhaps revitho (chickpea) salad with artichokes and sun-dried tomato; dolmades, the traditional grape leaves stuffed with rice and fresh herbs; peppers stuffed with bulgar and herbs; calamari—no, not the award Cara, Lisa, and I are nominated for at Left Coast Crime—squid prepared fried or in any number of other ways; octopus grilled as is, or dressed up with tomatoes, capers, and other special touches; cuttlefish in wine sauce with pearl onions; garides, giant shrimp grilled with lemon; stews of wild mushrooms, onions, and herbs; halvas (semolina pudding); loukoumathes (puffs of fried dough in sweet syrup sprinkled with cinnamon and walnuts); pasteli (sesame-honey candies) … and on and on.

And let’s not forget the ouzo, tsipouro, wine, and beer.

I hope I’ve given you a glimpse into the Greek soul, but if not, perhaps at least some sense of where all those endless Greek diner menus come from.

Jeff­—Saturday

Disaster in Samba City

Samba City, a complex near the port area of Rio de Janeiro, is where the warehouses of the major samba schools are located.

The warehouses, immense spaces with ceilings twelve meters high, have been built to accommodate the huge floats displayed in the parades.

The costumes are tailored and stored there – and so is everything else the schools need to put on their shows.

There was a time when the production and preparation was done in the neighborhoods where the schools were founded. Floats were constructed in the open air. Costumes were stored in the homes of the women who sewed them.

But the Cariocas (citizens of Rio de Janeiro) pride themselves on making every Carnival bigger and more elaborate than the last.

And bigger and more elaborate shows demanded more space for preparation.

So the schools began transferring their operations to abandoned factories.

Those factories were often in the outlying districts, making them difficult to get to.

Or in poorer areas, making them dangerous to visit.

Samba City, an initiative of the municipal government, was designed to end all of that.

Space was provided for each of the Class One samba schools.

The vast warehouses placed at their disposal could be used to hold social gatherings, do rehearsals, even put on shows for tourists – and thereby earn much-needed funds.

The neighborhood selected for the project wasn’t in the best part of town.

But the area inside the fence was to be heavily patrolled.

And the schools were promised a state-of-the-art sprinkler system that would protect them from fire.

The directors of the schools rejoiced.

The complex opened in 2005.

And, six years later, disaster struck.

A fire broke out.

The vaunted sprinkler system was faulty and inadequate.

Four of the fourteen warehouses were destroyed.

It couldn’t have come at a worse time.

It takes a year for a samba school to produce a show.

And, this year, there isn’t a ghost of a chance that three of them will be able to recover prior to the event.

In financial terms, the damage has been estimated at four million US dollars.

That’s big money for folks who live in shantytowns.

But the major damage, the emotional damage, is immeasurable.

The members of the samba schools live for carnival.

It’s the center of their existence, the most important event of their year.

The tourists aren’t going to be happy either.

As many as 700,000 foreigners are expected to attend Carnival in Rio this year.

And they’re not going to be able to see the show they might otherwise have seen.

If you’re unfamiliar with samba schools, or how the event is celebrated, I suggest you take a moment to read my post of February 7, 2010: http://murderiseverywhere.blogspot.com/search/label/Carnival

I posted it one year to the day before the fire.

This year, Carnival begins on Friday, the 4th of March. We'll be up all night throughout the weekend, watching the desfiles (parades) on television.

Leighton - Monday

The Greatest Show on Earth

Not the Ringling Brothers Circus.

The parade of the great samba schools during Rio de Janeiro’s annual carnival.

Six schools perform each night; it takes place on the Saturday and Sunday before the beginning of lent, from about ten at night until long after dawn. This year it will be on the coming weekend.

Spectators and participants alike take the Metro (underground/subway) to get to the sambodrome. It’s part of the fun. You can count on the cars being packed with people in full costume. If you go, I recommend that you plan a year or so in advance, get together with three other people and take one of the tables that front on the barrier. They’re only an arm’s length away from the action.

If you’re like my wife, you’re going to arrive in costume and, when the time comes, you’ll join your samba school. 

Anyone can participate. You send them money, and they’ll make you a costume. They’ll also send you the music and the lyrics. You’re expected to attend at least one rehearsal, but you’ll want to do that anyway, because it’s a lot of fun..

If you’re positioned anywhere near the front of the school, you’ll be back at your table before the last participants go by.

Even moving at a pretty good clip, it will take them an hour and twenty minutes to cover the ground.

Exactly an hour and twenty minutes, no more and no less.

If it’s less, you lose impact.

If it’s more you lose points.

And the points are important because in addition to being a show, the parades are a deadly serious competition. Each year, one of the twelve schools of the first category is demoted and one of a lesser category is raised. Schools are judged on many parameters including music, rhythm section, floats, costumes, the performance of the Porta Bandeira (the lady who carries the school’s colors) and even the degree of enthusiasm of the participants.

You want to win, of course. But, most of all, you want to avoid the disgrace of having your school expelled from the first group.

My wife’s school (oh, yes, there are loyalties here, just as there are in futebol) is Salgueiro, or more properly (as below) G.R.E.S. Acadêmicos do Salgueiro.

Their colors are red and white.

As they’re about ready to kick off, she’ll be down there amid the massed ambulances and medical personnel (a number of heart attacks are suffered each year) surrounded by a lot of very nervous people.

And I’ll be sipping a beer and waiting for the red and white skyrockets to go off. Then, over the loudspeaker system that lines the Avenue Marquês de Sapucai, there’s a shout from the guy charged with singing the samba. “Here comes Salgueiro.”

And they come indeed, all 5,000 of them. Click on the link to get a hint of how Salgueiro sounded last year. But it’s only a hint. There is no way to capture the sound of 5,000 people in motion singing to a battery of 500 rhythm instruments.

http://tinyurl.com/Salgueiro2009

By the way, they won!

Leighton - Monday