The Meaning(s) of May Day.

Jeff—Saturday

Friday is the first of May, a national holiday in Greece.  It’s a day filled with traditions, some brought on by thoughts of rejoicing at the end of winter, others by memories of a day sacred to organized labor, one that most Americans know little about—but we’ll get to that later.  Anyway, I thought, “This is a perfect subject for this week’s post,” and began to write, accompanied by this nagging sense of déjà vu all over again. 

Sure enough, I plowed back through my old posts and found I’d written about May Day a dozen years ago.  I thought to reinvent the wheel—or in this case the springtime wreath—but decided it more in keeping with the national labor strikes aspect of this day to simply do nothing but tinker with the old piece. Besides, the history behind this worldwide May Day hullabaloo has not changed. 

Did you know that May 1^st celebrations go back to ancient pagan days and that virtually all northern hemisphere cultures had some sort of “spring rite” festivities?

Why of course you did.

The earliest festivals were linked to the Roman goddess of flowers (Flora), Germanic celebrations of what is now called Walpurgis Night (named after the patron saint of those suffering from rabies, it’s also known as “the witches sabbath” coming precisely six months after All Hallows Eve—interesting combination), and the Celtic Beltane (a springtime festival of optimism).

Walpurgis Night Fireworks

May 1st ends the hunker down winter mindset, and harbingers the coming joyful days of summer. 

On Mykonos locals take great pride in fashioning circular wreaths out of grape vines tied off with bunches of wildflowers (aloe, statice, geraniums, daises, lavender, and the like), angelica, olive, rosemary, wheat, bay leaf, and for some, whole cloves of garlic.  They’re quite beautiful and for those wreaths proudly hung on front doors which survive another Mykonian tradition—wreath heisting by neighborhood children—they’re burned on the day of the Summer Solstice (June 22^nd) as the adventuresome jump over the flames three times making a wish as they do…probably not to burn off their you-know-whats in the process.   

Did you also know that May Day is International Worker’s Day?  If you live virtually anywhere outside of the U.S. you probably do.  Inside, likely not.  The U.S. has stuck to the first Monday in September as its Labor Day and Americans generally associate May 1^st with a communist or socialist workers holiday, complete with grandiose military parades in such places as Russia, North Korea, and Cuba. 

May Day Demonstration London

I’d venture to say most Americans have no idea that International Worker’s Day is officially celebrated in most countries around the world not to glorify any foreign ideal or event, but to mark what occurred in Chicago, Illinois on May 4, 1888.

Permit me to lift the following description of what happened from Wikipedia’s entry, “The Haymarket Affair.”

“The Haymarket affair (also known as the Haymarket massacre or Haymarket riot) refers to the aftermath of a bombing that took place at a labor demonstration on Tuesday May 4, 1886, at Haymarket Square in Chicago. It began as a peaceful rally in support of workers striking for an eight-hour day. An unknown person threw a dynamite bomb at police as they acted to disperse the public meeting. The bomb blast and ensuing gunfire resulted in the deaths of seven police officers and at least four civilians, and the wounding of scores of others.

“In the internationally publicized legal proceedings that followed, eight anarchists were convicted of conspiracy, although the prosecution conceded none of the defendants had thrown the bomb. Seven were sentenced to death and one to a term of 15 years in prison. The death sentences of two of the defendants were commuted by Illinois governor Richard J. Oglesby to terms of life in prison, and another committed suicide in jail rather than face the gallows. The other four were hanged on November 11, 1887. In 1893, Illinois’ new governor John Peter Altgeld pardoned the remaining defendants and criticized the trial.

“The Haymarket affair is generally considered significant as the origin of international May Day observances for workers.  The site of the incident was designated a Chicago Landmark on March 25, 1992, and a public sculpture was dedicated at the site in 2004. The Haymarket Martyrs’ Monument in nearby Forest Park was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and designated a National Historic Landmark on February 18, 1997.”

That ends today’s history lesson. Now go outside and enjoy the sunshine!

––Jeff

How Can It Be that Last Sunday was Easter--But So Is Tomorrow?

 

Jeff--Saturday

There are two explanations for that phenomenon.  One easy, one not––but neither being that it's the movie "Groundhog Day" come to life. 

The simple answer is that Greeks and others of the Eastern Orthodox faith calculate their Easter based upon the Julian calendar while Protestants and catholics use the modern Gregorian calendar.  If you want to know precisely how wth date is determined, the explanation starrs to sound strangely reminiscent of some I've herad touted these days about where our world is headed:

“The determination of the date of Easter is governed by a computation based on the vernal equinox (the point at which the ecliptic intersects the celestial equator, the sun having a northerly motion) and the phase of the moon. According to the ruling of the First Ecumenical Synod in 325, Easter Sunday should fall on the Sunday which follows the first full moon after the vernal equinox. If the full moon happens to fall on a Sunday, Easter is observed the following Sunday. The day taken to be the invariable date of the vernal equinox is March 21.”

I think it best we just say that Greek Easter follows the Julian calendar (though both can be on the same date) and leave it at that.

But no matter how the date is determined, Easter is by far the main event in Eastern Orthodoxy.  It is preceded by more than a week of significant religious and cultural observations.  And on Mykonos, Easter literally brings the island back to life.

Mykonos in Springtime

In the winter, Mykonos is a sleepy island village with virtually no tourists, no business, few open bars, fewer restaurants, and no clubs.  But come Easter Week everything changes.  Red and yellow springtime poppies burst to life all over the island’s hillsides, and those and still more varieties of flowers embroider the blanket of green covering the nearby holy island of Delos.  There are Church services every day of Holy Week, as well as daily preparations for the feast to come at the end.  Breads and cookies are readied on Monday and Tuesday, baking is done on Wednesday, and eggs are dyed red on Thursday, the day Christ was put up on the Cross.

Tsoureki Easter bread

By Thursday, Mykonos is filled with mainland Greeks flocking to their vacation homes and others looking to participate in a perfect example of spiritual and temporal coexistence: Easter church rituals strictly observed during the day, followed by the island’s as nearly hallowed party traditions through the night.  But that taste of the coming mid-summer craziness is short lived, for if you don’t catch the action that weekend come by in June, because Mykonos is back in hibernation come Tuesday.

An Epitaphios in procession on Mykonos

Evening services on Good Friday start at seven in the old town’s three main churches, Kiriake, Metropolis, and Panachra.  At precisely nine, each church’s clergy and worshipers leave their church in separate processions carrying their church’s epitaphios (the painted or embroidered cloth representation of Christ on a bier elaborately adorned in spring flowers and symbolizing his tomb) along a prearranged route, winding past the other two churches before ending up back at their own to complete the service.  It represents the funeral of Christ, and Mykonians and visitors line the route, some standing on balconies and sprinkling the participants below with a mixture of rose water and perfumes, the rodhonoro used on Christ’s body when taken down from the cross. 

The same three churches serve as the scene of the following night’s Holy Saturday services.  Most generally start heading off to church around ten, but for certain everyone is there by midnight.  For that is the high point of Easter, when church bells ring out across Greece and even total strangers exchange the traditional Christos Anesti and Alithos Anesti greetings that Christ has risen, kiss each other, and light each other’s candles to share the light and joy of the occasion—a light brought to Greece for just this purpose from the Holy Flame of Christ’s nativity cave in Jerusalem.  Worshipers carry the light back into their homes or their favorite restaurants, except for the hearty souls who remain in church for the balance of a service that lasts hours more into the morning. 

Midnight in Mykonos

Mayiritsa soup

Now it is time to challenge each other with the customary one-to-one smacking of those dyed-red eggs for good luck to the winner (mine always cracks first) and devour the traditional mayiritsa soup (made from parts of a lamb you may ask me about if you really want to know), fluffy tsoureki easter bread, and salads to break the forty-day fast leading up to Easter. 

But the big feast, the one everyone looks forward to, comes on Sunday.  That’s when all the work of the week and all the spring lambs find their purpose.  There is church, too, of course, but this day is more about celebrating with family and friends.  And eating.

The star of a Greek Easter Sunday (center)

Dieting starts Monday.  Kalo Paska 

--Jeff

Freedom or Death: A Greek Battle Cry

 Jeff–Saturday

MANTO MAVROGENOUS

March 25^th is fast approaching.  It's a two-for-one holiday in Greece: Annunciation and Greek Independence Day.  The former celebrates Mary learning from Archangel Gabriel that she was with child, and the later marks the day in 1821 when Greek Orthodox Bishop Germanos of Patras raised the Greek flag at the Monastery of Agia Lavra in Greece’s Peloponnese and inspired a more than eight-year struggle (1821-1829) to throw off nearly 400 years of Ottoman rule.

Bishop Germanos raising the flag (Theordore Vryzakis)

In towns and villages across Greece, school children proudly parade the country’s blue and white flag.  Aflutter, the flag is reminiscent of Greek seas but it holds a deeper meaning.  The white cross honors the contribution of the church to the country’s enduring battle for freedom and its nine blue and white bars honor the nine syllable rallying call shouted across the land during Greece’s struggle for Independence: Eleftheria i Thanatos—Freedom or Death.  (Though some say they represent the nine letters of ελευθερια in the Greek word for freedom, the idea is the same.). 

Petros Mavromichalis

Greece’s larger cities also hold military parades, and Greek communities around the world join in celebration with parades of their own.  But this is not about any of those events, or for that matter whether the Revolution actually began a week earlier in another part of the Peloponnese when the ruler of its Mani region, Petros Mavromichalis, raised his war flag in Mani’s capital city of Areopoli and marched his troops off against the Turks.

No, this is about a small Cycladic island’s personal War of Independence heroine, Manto Mavrogenous (1796-1848).  Her statue stands at the foot of the main square on Mykonos’ harbor,  and soon it will be surrounded by palm fronds—an ancient symbol of triumph, victory, and the sacred sign of Apollo—in honor of a life truly worthy of an epic film.  Or a tragic opera.

Manto Mavrogenous Square, Mykonos

Born in Trieste to a wealthy, aristocratic Greek merchant family, Manto Mavrogenous studied philosophy and history, was fluent in several languages, and drew her fire for Greek independence from her father, a member of Filiki Eteria, the secret society dedicated to freeing Greece from Ottoman rule. 

She was thirteen when her family returned to its roots in the Cycladic islands, first to Paros and after her father’s death to Tinos.  War broke out when she was twenty-five and she left for Mykonos, the place of her family’s origins, to convince its leaders to join in the Revolution.  But what she offered Mykonos and indeed all of Greece was far more than words.  When Ottomans attempted to land on Mykonos, she commanded the forces that repelled them.  She used her fortune to outfit ships and crews that battled pirates and the Ottoman fleet, and to send soldiers to fight for freedom on mainland Greece, as well as to support the families of those who fought.

Manto even sold her jewelry to support the fight and pressed the world to allow Greece to be free.  This is from her letter to The Women of Paris: “The Greeks, born to be liberal, will owe their independence only to themselves.  So I don’t ask your intervention to force your compatriots to help us. But only to change the idea of sending help to our enemies.” 

Demetrius Ypsilantis

In the early years of the war she met Demetrius Ypsilantis, a well-educated son of a prominent family, brother of the leader of Filiki Eteria, and a politically connected war hero.  (Yes, that city in Michigan was named after him, a town perhaps better known today for “the world’s most phallic building,” the Ypsilanti Water Tower.)  They became engaged and Mavrogenous’ beauty, bravery, and selfless commitment to Greek independence brought her fame across Europe. 

Bust of Demetrius erected in foreground of "The Brick Dick" of Ypsilanti.

It seemed a fairy tale, but that was not to be.

During their engagement Mavrogenous’ home was totally destroyed by fire and her fortune stolen.  She moved in with Ypsilanti but in time he broke off the engagement.  Deeply depressed and virtually penniless, she never recovered.

Her memoirs were written on Mykonos but she spent most of the balance of her life amid poverty in Greece’s first modern capital, Nafplio, before finally moving to Paros where she died penurious and in oblivion at fifty-four.

The great debts owed to her for financing so much of Greece’s Revolution were never repaid.  Unless you count the palms, thanks, and honors bestowed each March 25.

The back of a Greek coin worth less than a penny

Freedom or Death.

––Jeff

What Life is Like Tending Bar in Mykonos

 

Jeff—Saturday

Current events being what they are these days, I almost feel like going back to drinking.  But I shant. Instead I'll share some secrets I've learned in (many) years past from those in the know who worked one of the foremost Greek Island bars....that's sadly no longer there.  But there's much to be learned from their recollections.  So, here we go.

Mykonos’ legendary Montparnasse Piano Bar closed for the season Friday night, giving all of its fans the chance to say adieu to its proprietors, Jody Duncan and Nikos Hristodulakis.  They’re responsible for bringing Broadway quality singers and pianists to the island, such as Kathy “Babe” Robinson and Mark Hartman who performed on its final night.

All of which inspired me to share insights I’ve gained from years of conversations with its singers and pianists.  Those impressions are incorporated into the story line of my Spring 2019 Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis novel, but I think they’re worthy of a bit of time in the spotlight on their own.  So, here goes….

Playing piano in a bar requires a certain mindset.  Think of it as trying to gain your balance on a surfboard...while playing a piano.

As the piano player, it’s up to you to read the room, and adjust on the fly to make sure everyone has a good time.  It could be the same crowd as from another night, but this time they show up with a completely different vibe.  The other night might have been their first night on the island, and everyone was up for a hell-raising good time. But when it came to their last night, it’d be all about nostalgia.

Unlike concert-goers, bar patrons show up with a mix of interests and expectations regarding the music: celebrants might come looking for upbeat tunes; friends on a night out might shout out song requests; business people might ignore the music as long as they can hear each other talk; and, of course, any alcohol-fueled seduction requires a background of romantic music.  Then there’s the solitary, glad-handing, over-imbiber who can’t resist trying to transform his evening alone into a communal sing-a-long

.

Whatever the mix of audience members, the piano-bar player faces the ever-present background chatter of customers, waiters, and bartenders exchanging orders and quips, all searching for the right volume at which to conduct their discussions, above or below the rattle of glassware and din of competing conversations.

If you work long enough in piano bars, you develop a mindset to cope with all of that.  Or you go crazy. 

When starting out in the business, some shut their eyes as they play and drift off into the sounds of the room, listening for the evening’s competing tones and rhythms, crescendos and diminuendos, bursts of staccato laughter, trumpeting shouts, and unexpected bits of silence.  Whether working with a singer or alone, they view their job as something like an orchestra conductor’s: to unite all those disparate sounds into a unified, symphonic performance. And ideally to draw the audience into an appreciative, tip-giving state of mind in the process.

As I said, that’s their thinking when they start out in the business.  But, over time, they come to learn their true role in a piano bar, and with that realization achieve a Zen-like understanding of the meaning of their life’s work.  It’s so simple, so obvious, and so intrinsically calming to an artist’s soul:

Their job is to sell drinks. Period, end of story.

I’ll drink to that.  Thank you, David Dyer, Mark Hartman, and Bobby Peaco for all those wonderful tunes.

David

Mark

Bobby

PS. I'd be woefully remiss if I didn't mention the two brilliant vocalists in addition to Babe who bring their Broadway level talents to bear in making The Piano Par the place to be in the Cyclades for high end entertainment--Phyllis Pastore, who's been wowing audiences here for 27 years, and Sara Mucho, the youngest member of the Montparnasse musical crew.  Thank you all!

—Jeff

The Fates Have a Message for Mykonos ℅ Dionysus.

Jeff––Saturday

 

I've been pressed for time this week, so when I realized it was coming up on the hour by when I had to post my Saturday blog, I decided to just shut my eyes, click at random on my library of 15 years of past posts, and leave it for the Fates to chose what I should put up today.

 

Little did I realize how prepared the Fates were for my challenge.  They picked a ten-year-old post titled "Dionysus Lives Here" describing the state of Mykonos in the Summer of 2014.  It gave me chills for what I described back then applies only more so today.

 

Whether that's good or bad, I leave up to you. But here's that post: 

 

How many of you ever heard of Dionysus?  Perhaps you know him by his Roman name, Bacchus.  Check Wikipedia, it will tell you Dionysus is Greek mythology’s god of the grape harvest, winemaking, wine, ritual madness, and ecstasy.  In other words, he’s the original party animal. 

Greek legends report on Dionysus’ mythical carryings on as a son of Zeus, and ancient historians tell of festivals held in his honor starting around the 6^th and 5^th Centuries BCE. Those Dionysia festivals took place twice a year, once around the vernal equinox (March-April) in Athens during its busiest time (City Dionysia), and again around the winter solstice (December-January) in the wine harvest regions (Rural Dionysia).  The festivals generally involved dramatic presentations, feasting, processions of carried and pulled phalluses (Wikipedia’s description, not mine), and drunken revelry in the streets. 

Dionysus

Dionysus’ origins are uncertain and he’s often depicted as a naked or half-naked androgynous youth possessing minions of “wild female followers” and “bearded satyrs with erect penises.”

This week I had an epiphany: That guy Dionysus must have a summerhouse on Mykonos.

For ninety days (mid-June to mid-September) this place is all about paying homage to him.  And paying is the operative word.  Think NYC prices with euro signs in place of dollar signs. But that’s old news.  Besides, a 24/7 party atmosphere lures those willing to pay for the experience.  And they come in droves, not wincing at 1000 euro per night hotel rooms or 10,000 euros per day and higher priced villas.  Yes, there are more reasonable accommodations available, but virtually all come here driven to be part of the buzz generated by the glitz of a money’s-no-object summer time attitude reflected in the phrase emblazoned across the top-selling souvenir t-shirt on Mykonos: MYKONOS FUCKS IBIZA.

Yes, Dionysus has brought prosperity to Mykonos.  One could even argue Dionysus is now the island’s patron.  He’s brought them money, and more money, and even more money. And all he’s asked in return is a bit of respect for the practice of his traditions.

And so his followers party as they wish, their vices regarded as holiday indulgences, and the rules they live by back home suspended.  In summer, all Mykonos now caters to the god Dionysus and his followers. 

Come September the visitors will leave, the off-islanders who come here only to profit off the island’s summer ecstasy will be gone...leaving Mykonos to the Mykonians to clean up and ready for the prayed for return of great god Dionysus and his followers.

By Mark Cross

But ye who place your island in the hands of Dionysus beware, for in Greek mythology Dionysus was a dying god, one torn to pieces by Titans who lured him with toys.

And for those who might claim his pieces were picked up, stitched together, and brought back to life, I have it on good authority the resurrection was a long and painful process. 

 

—Jeff

 

Jeff’s upcoming events

2025

All Live Events

 

September 3 – 7 | Bouchercon 2025 | New Orleans, LA
Friday, September 5, 4:00-4:45 p.m.
New Orleans Marriott—La Galeries 5-6
Panelist, “Tips and Tricks for Keeping a Series Fresh,” with Anne Cleeland, Marcy McCreary, Charles Todd, Tessa Wegert, and Moderator Deborah Dobbs

Saturday, September 6, 10:30-11:25 a.m.
New Orleans Marriott—La Galerie 3
Panelist, “No Passport Required: International Mysteries and Thrillers,” with Barbara Gayle Austin, Cara Black, Joseph Finder, J.L. Hancock, and Moderator Mark Ellis

 

Wednesday, September 17, 6:30 p.m.
Greek National Tourist Organization
Presentation of the literary work of Jeffrey Siger
Ilias Lalaounis Jewelry Museum
Kallisperi 12, Acropolis

 

Finding Paradise on Mykonos

 

Saturday–Jeff

“Your assignment, Jeff, should you choose to accept it, is to find paradise (small p) on Mykonos.”

A mission impossible?

Some might say that, but I’m used to challenges of that sort for they come at me each year at this time in the form of an email from the managing editor of Mykonos Confidential.  In it, I’m asked to contribute an essay to its eponymous glitz and glamour magazine –an icon of the high fashion lifestyle that rules Mykonos each summer.

This year’s topic was described to me as “inspired by the documentary ‘Super Paradise’ - you might have heard of it…we are looking for paradise stories on Mykonos!”

I’d not.

Still, in the three decades I’ve written for MC, they never changed a word of what I’d written, nor has its editorial content shied away from addressing controversial issues. 

I reward that journalistic honesty by writing what I think appropriate for that summer’s topic “without fear or favor” of those who might feel otherwise.

Below is my contribution to this summer’s Mykonos Confidential, and here’s a link to my essay that appears at its pages 44-45.

A Place for Friends

Paradise is a decidedly subjective term.

We can adorn our respective images of paradise with modifiers such as “super” or some yet undiscovered supercalifragilisticexpialidocious version, but the bottom line remains this: each of us possesses an intensely personal view of paradise.

For millennia, creators of art, music, poetry and prose have extolled its virtues while others have proffered demonic versions consistent with their views on paradise as lush with amorality.  That seems a topic worthy of serious attention for members of the Mykonos early morning kafenion crowd in their inevitably intractable musings on the state of their beloved island.

Among visitors to Mykonos, many likely envision paradise as involving turquoise waters lapping against golden beaches under azure skies––perhaps while in the embrace of a new-found lover.

Locals, too, undoubtedly subscribe in varying degrees to that paradisiacal vision of the sea that surrounds their island home.  But mostly it is to their families’ deep roots in a shared hardscrabble past, and unabashed pride in their island’s new-found affluence, that they point to when describing Mykonos as their paradise.

And proud they should be, for prosperity came to Mykonos in no small measure because Mykonian families saw beyond the petty temptations, foibles, and feuds that often come into play when natives, conditioned to accepting as gospel a fixed vision of their paradise, find themselves adrift among compelling alternative perceptions of what paradise might mean going forward.

In an effort to precisely pinpoint what keeps my 40-year love affair with Mykonos still going hot and heavy, I reviewed decades of articles I’d written for Mykonos Confidential.

My first essay described what I liked most about Mykonos.  That answer was easy: the people. Life then was more about hanging out with friends, be it for coffee in the morning, spearfishing and the beach in the afternoon, or joining in on any number of communal activities––all for the purpose of making me part of their lives and they part of mine. 

Back then I saw Mykonos as every bit the legendary draw for tourists from around the world that at its heart still remained a small, Greek island village.  A place where people raised their families and shared strong traditions—forever linked in geographic and spiritual kinship to the Delos of antiquity.

A few years later, for Mykonos Confidential’s Tenth Anniversary issue, I wrote:

“We have entered a different world.  We no longer exist as we once did.  We are separate and apart.  We are imagination and fantasy, dreams and aspirations, a place in the sun unlike any other, fulfilling the great expectations of our planet’s buyers and sellers.”

Despite all that change, Mykonos remains a place of joy where friends from around the world seeking paradise still gather to celebrate.  Old faces and new; Greeks, non-Greeks; gays, non-gays; locals, non-locals; rich, non-rich, all there in abundance listening to their eclectic music, grazing on modern cuisine, imbibing in whatever they desire, wearing as much or little as they wish, dancing, sunning, playing, perhaps even praying, but all smiling and doing whatever makes them happy. 

And as the years roll on, I watch old Mykonos tales of magical moments being remade by the young in their own words, and though time will fly by for them surely as quickly as it has for me, I can assure them that those memories of their time in paradise shall always remain the property of their makers—staying just as fresh for them as mine do for me.

My memories of Mykonos as paradise shall forever remain linked to my Mykonos friends. Friends who continue to draw my heart and soul back to our shared island home.  I’ve stood with them from midnight until two-thirty on an Easter morning crammed into the tiny second-floor space above the chapel of Agia Kiriake in Chora. I’ve danced at their weddings, rejoiced at their baptisms (at times, to both on the same day), and cried at the funerals of longtime friends. 

Though I was not born here and my roots are not Greek, I met my wife here, and Mykonos is the place I call home more than any other.  It is a place of wondrous contrasts and energy, a source of inspiration for my writing. But above all it is home to many of my most treasured friends.  Which is why Mykonos is, and shall forever remain, my paradise.

––Jeff

Jeff’s upcoming events

2025

All Live Events

 

September 3 – 7 | Bouchercon 2025 | New Orleans, LA
Friday, September 5, 4:00-4:45 p.m.
New Orleans Marriott—La Galeries 5-6
Panelist, “Tips and Tricks for Keeping a Series Fresh,” with Anne Cleeland, Marcy McCreary, Charles Todd, Tessa Wegert, and Moderator Deborah Dobbs

Saturday, September 6, 10:30-11:25 a.m.
New Orleans Marriott—La Galerie 3
Panelist, “No Passport Required: International Mysteries and Thrillers,” with Barbara Gayle Austin, Cara Black, Joseph Finder, J.L. Hancock, and Moderator Mark Ellis

 

Wednesday, September 17, 6:30 p.m.
Greek National Tourist Organization
Presentation of the literary work of Jeffrey Siger
Ilias Lalaounis Jewelry Museum
Kallisperi 12, Acropolis