The Odyssey 8: "To the Greeks it's all: Easter is coming! Easter is coming!"-David Sedaris

April 23, 2008

I just finished my last class before my Greek Easter/Spring Break! I still have 2 papers to write, but we won't talk about that now. Instead, I'll drop you all a line and tell you what I've been up to.

Other than work, ehm, ehm...

My dad came to visit two weekends ago! It was so good to see him and spend time with someone I know! Highlights of the weekend besides seeing him: 1) getting to see the inside of the Hilton. Fancy-shmansy, I'll say. Really good salmon in their breakfast buffet--yummm...haven't had it in so long! 2) Taking a trip to Sounio, a temple to Poseidon. It's one of the most well preserved temples with 16 columns still standing. I think the one that Lord Byron graffitied on is still standing, although it's roped off so I couldn't see it from where I was. The temple was actually not as exciting as I had heard it was, it's cool, but, well, huh, I've seen cooler...The drive there, however was fabulous. There is such beautiful coast line just outside of Athens that I hadn't know anything about! If I have time when I get back from break I plan to spend everyday at the beach. This plan is somewhat doubtful though considering I only have a week and half when I get back and it will be filled with finals and packing up to leave. It was beautiful though, I love the beach. 3) Showing Dad the insanity of Psirri, the main nightlife district in Athens. I'm so glad someone else got to experience the chaos of those streets. I don't think I can fully convey just HOW MANY people are out there every weekend night. I'd say its just about everyone in Athens on about 3 different streets, crammed into cafes, bars, clubs and trying to walk down the street. Oh, yes, and cars who for God knows what reason have the DUMBEST idea to drive down them. They literally inch along for what must be hours down 3 blocks. And there is no age limit to who goes out either. You have everyone from 15 year olds to 50 years olds and no one blinks an eye. It's SO funny. Definitely a cultural experience.

Then this past weekend I went on a trip to Aegina for a day, the island closest to Athens. It's an hour by ferry and although many Greeks poo-poo it because it's so close, it is so pretty! I went because I was in a puzzle group that won a free trip(there was a contest at the beginning of the semester to see who could get their section done the fastest). So I went with those people (none of which I'm really friends with by the way--they're embarrassingly loud, but I sucked it up and actually had a good time). We rented ATV 4-wheelers and drove all over the island. Not really all over, because it's a pretty big place, but we went up into the hills and along the coast. It was a lot of fun and such a cool way to see so much more than if we had just stayed in the port town. There is really something to be said about having your own mode of transportation--it's so nice to have control over where you go and what you do. Not to mention their really fun vehicles.

Then this week I went to Glyfada to the Archelon Sea Turtle Rescue Center with my Nature Conservation class. My teacher is one of the founders of the organization and so we've been learning about it for a while now. It was very neat to see. There is little to no environmental protection in Greece, the sea turtle efforts and bird protection initiative are really the most impressive things going on, so it was interesting to see how that worked. It's this little compound-like space on the beach made up of old train wagons renovated into offices and living quarters because technically you can't build anything permanent there. Then there are big tanks where the turtles are kept and are recuperating. There are some seriously injured turtles, people do really horrific things to them sometimes (like beat them with clubs as "revenge" for "eating their fish" or poke eyes out...ehck.) Anyway, some of them have been held there for 5 years or longer, but they are resilient creatures and surprising number of them eventually pull though. Others have much more minor injuries, like they got tangled in fishing nets and have injured flippers, and they aren't usually held for too long. They're also flown in from all over. There are nesting area all over the Mediterranean, the vast majority being in Greece on the islands, but people find injured one all over and they are flown or shipped to this rescue center. It's a really sweet place. It is almost fully run by volunteers. Many of whom are there on European Commission Volunteer-year subsidies (so cool, why can't the states do something like that?) or others, mainly Americans, who are paying their own way. The minimum stay is a month, most people stay longer, so they seem to really create a community. Our tour was given by a friendly, although very tired, British girl. She had been up since 5am feeding the turtles and working and we arrived at 7pm. Understandable, I suppose. Anyhow, it was a cool place. Another activity I wish I had time to fit into my life, but alas, I guess I have to leave some stuff for the next one!

Now, like I said, I'm finishing up to leave for break! YAY! it couldn't be more needed. I'm heading up north tomorrow to meet some relatives for the Easter weekend. It should be very interesting. For one, I've never done the whole thing properly--going to mid-night mass staying up all night at the liturgy, red eggs, doing the big party afterwards in a totally Greek setting...And for another thing, the weekend will be all in Greek-yikes! Wish me luck! Believe it or not, this will be longest I will have gone with out English to help me out--sad, I know, seeing as how I've been here for 3 months now. Sheesh.

Anyhoo, I hope you all are well!

Kalo Pasxa!!!

Talk to you again soon,

-A

PS. I'm pasting a thing my cousin sent to me that Rita Wilson wrote bellow about Greek Easter, just in case you're interested in reading about it. I know some of you have gotten a Tsocanos family taste of it, and some of you have really lived it, but it's neat if you want a little summary about it.

PPS. Thank you to everyone who sent me notes last time I wrote, I really appreciated them.

Why Easter is Greek to Me: Xristos Anesti!

Once every few years, Greek Easter falls the same week as "American Easter," as it was called when I was growing up.

In order for "Greek Easter" to be celebrated the same week as "American Easter," Passover has to have been celebrated already. We Greeks don't do Easter until after Passover, because how can you have Easter BEFORE Passover. Jesus went to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, after all. Unless it is one of the years when the two holidays align. Like this year.

Here are some of the things that non-Greeks may not know about Greek Easter: We don't do bunnies. We don't do chocolate. We don't do pastels.

We do lamb, sweet cookies, and deep red. The lamb is roasted and not chocolate, the sweet cookies are called Koulorakia and are twisted like a braid, and our Easter eggs are dyed one color only: blood red. There is no Easter Egg hunt. There is a game in which you crack your red egg against someone else's red egg hoping to have the strongest egg, which would indicate you getting a lot of good luck.

Holy Week, for a Greek Orthodox, means you clear your calendar, you don't make plans for that week at all because you will be in church every day, and you fast. Last year, in addition to not eating red meat and dairy before communion, my family also gave up sodas for the 40-day Lenten period.

During one particularly stressful moment, there were many phone calls amongst our kids as to whether or not a canned drink called TING, made with grapefruit juice and carbonated water was, in fact, a soda and not a juice, which our then 10-year-old decided it was, so we had a Ting-less Lent.

No matter where I find my self in the world I never miss Easter, or as we call it, Pascha. I have celebrated in Paris, London, New York City, Los Angeles, and in Salinas, California at a small humble church that was pure and simple.

When we were kids, our parents would take us, and now as parents ourselves we take our children to many of the Holy Week services including the Good Friday service where you mourn the death of Jesus by walking up to the Epitaphio, which reperesents the dead body of Christ, make your cross, kiss the Epitaphio, and marvel at how it was decorated with a thousand glorious flowers, rose petals and smells like incense.

Some very pious people will crawl under the Epitaphio. I have always been so moved to see this. There is no self- consciousness in this utter act of faith. There is no embarrassment to show symbolic sorrow at the death of our Saviour.

At a certain point in the Good Friday service, the Epitaphio is carried outside by the deacons of the church, as if they are pall bearers, followed by worshippers carrying lit candles protected from dripping on your clothes and on others by having a red plastic cup that sits below the flame to catch the wax drippings. Every Greek person knows all too well the smell of burning hair.

One time, in London, I smelled something and turned to look at where the smell might be coming from, only to be horrified that it was coming form me and my head was on fire. But I digress.

It is somber and quiet as we follow the Epitaphio, in candlelight, from the altar to the outdoors, in order for it to circle the church before it returns back to the altar. We sing beautiful lamentations that make your heart break with their pure expression of sadness and hope.

One of my favorite services during Easter is Holy Unction. This happens on the Wednesday of Holy Week. Holy Unction is a sacrament. It is for healing of our ills, physical and spiritual. It is preparing us for confession and communion. This sacrament has always been so humbling to me.

When you approach the priest for Holy Unction, you bow your head and as he says a prayer and asks you your Christian name, he takes a swab of blessed oil and makes the sign of the cross on your forehead, cheeks, chin, backs of your hands and palms. It is a powerful reminder of how, with faith, we can be healed in many ways.

The holy oil is then carefully dabbed with cotton balls provided by the church so you don't leave there looking as if you're ready to fry chicken with your face, and before you exit the church, you leave your cotton balls in a basket being held by altar boys, so as not to dispose of the holy oil in a less than holy place. The church burns the used cotton balls.

There have been times when I have left church with my cotton ball and have panicked when I am driving away. At home I take care of it. Imagine a grown woman burning cotton balls in her sink. But that is what I do.

Midnight Mass on Saturday night, going into Sunday morning is the Anastasi service. We will arrive at church at around 11 p.m., when it starts, and listen to the chanter as he chants in preparation for the service. My kids, dressed in their suits and having been awakened from a deep sleep to come to church, groggily sit and wait holding their candles with red cup wax catchers.

As the service progresses, the moment we have all been waiting for approaches. All the lights in the church are turned off. It is pitch black It is dead quiet. The priest takes one candle and lights his one candle from the one remaining lit altar candle, which represents the light of Christ's love ( I believe).

From this one candle, the priest approaches the congregation and using his one candle he shares his light with a few people in the front pews. They in turn share their light with the people next to them and behind them. In quiet solemnity, we wait until the entire church is lit with only the light of candles, the light that has been created by one small flame has now created a room of shared light.

And at a moment that can only be described as glorious, the priest cries out, "Xristos Anesti!" "Christ is Risen!" We respond with "Alithos Anesti!" "Truly, He is Risen!" We sing our glorious Xristos Anesti song with the choir. That moment, which happens about an hour, to an hour and half into the service and seems as if the service is over, actually marks the beginning of the service. The service then continues for another hour and a half.

When I was a kid, after the service was over, we would go to the Anastasi Dinner that the church would throw in the church hall, where we would break our fast, drink Cokes at 2:30 in the morning, dance to a raucous Greek band and not go home until our stomachs were full of lamb, eggs, Koulouraki, and we saw the sun rise. Or was it the Son rise?

But usually now, after Midnight Mass, we drive home with our still-lit candles. I always love seeing the looks on peoples faces as they pull up to our car seeing a family with lit candles calmly moving at 65 m.p.h. down the highway. When we get home, we crack eggs, eat cookies, drink hot chocolate (so not Greek) and I burn a cross into our doorways with the carbon from the candle smoke to bless our house for the year.

There have been many times when painters touching up the house have wondered why there was this strange black cross burned into our doorways. The next day is usually followed by a late sleep in, then getting up and doing the same thing you just did but in the daytime at the Easter Picnic, usually held at a local park.

I have to say, the Greeks know how to do Easter. Make no mistake. This is the most important holiday in our church. It is a beautiful week. I haven't even begun to touch on what the week is really like. This is a sampling of a sampling of what it is like. It is so much more deep, so much richer than I have written here.

But one thing is clear. It is a powerful, beautiful, mysterious, humbling, healing and moving week. It is filled with tradition and ritual. It is about renewal and faith. And even though it is still too early to say, Xristos Anesti! Alithos Anesti!

Actress Rita Wilson, whose mother and father both were born in Greece, is widely credited with landing Nia Vardalos a movie deal for "My Big Fat Greek Wedding." Wilson and her actor husband Tom Hanks had their own "Big Fat Greek Wedding" in 1988. They have two children.

Posted by Rita Wilson on April 8, 2007 12:57 PM