Oxi-day del 1

[lars]

Jag skrev den här för några år sedan. Den är på engelska men jag hoppas det går bra ändå.
Historien handlar om firandet i en liten på Kreta den 28:e oktober, Oxi-dagen.

It is the 28th of October the date when in 1940 General Metaxas rejected the ultimatum by which Italy demanded the right to occupy Greece.
The Oxi-day (oxhi=no) is celebrated all over the country and in Chania there will be a big parade. As we watched this parade last year, we have instead decided to attend the chestnut festival in the village of Prasés.
We have passed there many times and some of you may recall this from my Omalos story. We were then a little uncertain about the road.

“About 200 metres in front of us are 3 men, all dressed in black, discussing something; it is easy to tell from all their gestures. I drive towards them. "Are you crazy, we have lot money, two cameras and one binocular and look at those men? Don’t you understand they will rob us" "Ok kiria mou, they look a little wild but these men are mountain men and they are supposed to look like that". She acts very fast and in seconds everything is hidden. Two young men and one old approach the jeep, window up on one side but down on my side. I try to ask about the road to the village of Prasés and immediately there is a huge smile on the old mans face. He is willing to show us the way and in two seconds he is in the backseat "Pame “(We go")
We continue down the hill and the road is very, very bad and kind of soft. I can feel the right-side wheels sinking in the mud. This is good, very good!!! My co-driver has changed into a pale-face whispering: "He just wants us to drive him home. Then he will leave us to ourselves and we will never find our way back" From behind the man asks: "Apo pou eisai" (Where are you from?). The silence is broken and we have now reached the bottom of the valley and it is very nice down here. Everything is green and yellow-coloured flowers cover many of the bushes. Some of the trees -maybe fruit trees - are dressed in white flowers. A brook is running along the road and we have to cross it a couple of times. There are also gates to open and Sofia does a great job and our passenger in the back is smiling and happy”
It was of course a happy ending to this story:
“A big hug and a kiss from Sofia and we leave him with a happy smile on his face “

The road to the village is very nice and the views over the mountains are breathtaking.
When we arrive there about 10.30 in the morning the activity is already very high.
People are running to and fro. We park the Volvo and join the villagers.
In the centre of the village the roar is turning into a “market” with three houses and one kafenion in one side and two houses and a combined taverna/kafenion on the other.
Tree also frames the “market” and in the background we see the mountain slopes, also covered by trees and bushes.
Here and there in the landscape are small white houses and some dirt roads (we know one them that’s for sure) leading all the way up to Omalos.
The sky above is blue and a smooth, warm wind is coming from south.
On our left side, from the front of the kafenion, tables and chairs in white plastic are placed and formed like a big fan. On the side the tables and the chairs are placed along the road. There are still plenty of space though for cars and even for the early morning bus to pass trough.
Further down the road on the right side is a small church, today decorated with flowers.
From a low hill behind the “market” we have a perfect view of it all.

Not many guests yet, but it is still early.
We are forced back down to the “market” again by a teasing smell.
In front of the house next to the taverna food is prepared. Hugh casseroles with lamb and katsika are put over open fire and the cooks, three men using gaily coloured aprons, are watching over it very closely.
They say that skimming is very important and of course they are right.
Herbs?
No, just salt and that´s it.
On the ground, waiting for being brought inside, are some beer cases filled with meat from the casseroles to be ready. To our joy one of the cooks suddenly says:
“Oriste parakalo”
We grab one piece eachand everybody around seems to be looking at us with a big question mark on their faces.
Silence for short moment.
“Endaksi?”
“Nai nai to vrasto einai poli poli nostimo”
What could be more wrong here than to say “To many cooks spoil the broth”

There are also some big pots with chestnuts in boiling water looked after by an old woman dressed in black. When I take a picture of her, she is smiling towards me in a warm and a very kind way. It is so easy to love this people and it is truly an honour to get to know them and to be a part of their charm, hospitality and friendship.
"Ela, ela apo edo sto fourno".
A young strong-looking woman is waving to us to come and take some photos.
Behind the casseroles is an oven in which she is roasting chestnuts. They are black and very hot but they taste very nice.
"Ela mesa".
She is dragging Sofia and me inside the house, where on some tables there are chestnuts made in different ways; boiled, roasted, honey-dipped, chocolate-covered and many more.
She tells us to taste all the different kinds and they are nice, especially the one with chocolate.
There are also plenty of bottles filled with tsikoudia and local wine along one of the walls. It is easy to tell that this will be good party.
I leave the ladies and the nuts, sorry chestnuts, behind.
Opposite from the taverna another teasing smell is mixing in the air. The curling smoke is telling me that there is a grill somewhere over there. I cannot see it because it's situated down below.
Crossing the road, I notice that cars are being parked on both sides all the way down to the church. Dressed up people, old and young are now joining the festival and soon the "market" will be crowded.
At the entrances to the "market" there are two men selling tickets to the fabulous price of only 3.500 Drx.
The masters of the brizoles are working in the heat from the grill in a high tempo. They are turning the meat over and over again only using their hands.
At the same moment as I am zooming them in with my videocamera, my right eye register the sign from one of the masters and I hear "Ela".
I am joining them and a big brizola and a glass of wine is presented to me. Heaven is close.
They tell me, that this is the third year the village is organising a party like this to celebrate the chestnuts and it is the first time outdoors.
"My friend, you have brought good weather", they say in one voice.
"Have I"? Yes of course I have.
Next to us are some eight or ten barrels spreading that special smell of mash. In a couple of days it will be first class tsikoudia. Maybe it would be a good idea to return by then.
After a superb brizola, two glasses of a wine we finish our private mini barbecue party with a glass of one of the best tsikoudies I have ever tasted.
I will now try to find Sofia again.
forts,

[Monica P]

Óchi! En viktig dag som numera firas över hela landet med parader av olika dignitet, ledig dag för de flesta utom för serveringspersonal som får oerhört mycket att göra på alla kaféer där paraden går fram. Skolbarnen går i grupper med likartad klädsel, eller i folkdräkt. Taktfasta fast i olika takt om ni fattar. Mammor som strukit skjortor och byxor hela morgonen...pappor med småbarnen på axlarna för att se sina större syskon...politiker och prästerskap på tribuner...mässingsorkestrar som vill mer än dom kan...hos oss kommer en liten trupp soldater på slutet och får stora applåder. Det är ju dom som ska skydda oss när turken kommer.

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Låter som härligt firandeSkönt att beredskapen är god på Kalymnos

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