Quite a few years ago now, but well embossed in my memory, was the first Christmas away from my British family and my first with my new family here in Crete.
Far away from the crazy buzz of the countdown to Christmas and the consumerism that seems to take hold of us all at this time of the year, Viannos it seemed, didn’t recognise this particular holiday as one worth getting very excited about. The olive harvest is in full swing, from morning to night, the only topic of conversation is how many sacks of olives have come off each field, if they have the blighty little mite called “dakos”, whether last year was better or worse, how much oil came from the olives, whether it was a good quality………
Everyone is so tired, the Christmas tree is not a priority unless it rains. Nobody talks about shopping or baking or anything else unless it rains.
And everyone is on one hand praying for rain so they can get a day off to relax a bit and on the other, not wanting it because they will get behind in the harvest and loose olives.
I was physically exhausted from my work on the fields and I was pretty glum to say the least.
I was already missing my mince pies and sherry, my stuffing and cranberry sauce, my brussels sprouts and parsnips – we didn’t even have fresh milk in those days, never mind shops that sold all our favourite goodies from home, like we do now.
Not exactly the kind of atmosphere that most would choose in the run up to Christmas day.
But something else was happening here that I’ve never experienced before – the unity of the family. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, brothers, sisters, grandchildren – all coming back to “the village” from where ever they call home for the rest of the year, helping each other on their land, everyone popping in for a quick coffee, catching up on what’s going on with everybody, seeing how much the children have grown, dropping in to bring a plate of food they have cooked and for you to try. Sitting down for 10 minutes with a glass of raki and comparing notes, the women on recipes and the men on progress with their olives.
And then finally, it starts. The countdown in Crete, begins on the 23rd of December. Even though the sun is shining, the women stay home for the day to clean and bake in preparation for the holiday. And again, everyone lends a hand, taking it in turns in each house, sisters and aunts and other willing hands join forces and with the ovens on full blast all day long, huge amounts of traditional sweets – melomakarona, kourabiedes, diples and special Christmas bread, the air full of the aroma of Christmas in Crete!
Enough to feed an army, because there was an army to feed – all the immediate family and for them to take home when they leave, for anyone who might drop in, for neighbours and of course, for all the workforce in the fields every day!!
This was a new and really quite inspiring experience for me and I think it was the start of my conversion to the Cretan way of live.
As an almost vegetarian at that time, my next culture shock came on Christmas morning when going to the bathroom, I heard a rustling behind the shower curtain and knowing that everyone else was in the kitchen drinking coffee, I was curious to know what was making the noise. What I saw put an end to my appetite for lunch that day, as a chicken with it’s legs tied, struggled in the bathtub to free itself.
“Yes, of course it’s for the soup” says my mother-in-law proudly, “we don’t buy frozen chickens,
who knows what they are fed on – we only eat our own”. I shook slightly just thinking about it being slaughtered and popped straight into the pot!
I was very squeamish about the nonchalance they showed to the animals they had on their farm, but that’s quite common considering I’d only ever seen meat on the shelves of the supermarket until then, never the process that goes on before it gets there……
Anyway, to cut a very long story short, after a few tears on the phone talking to my family back in England, the celebrations began. A table ready to collapse under the weight of the food (luckily, not just chicken soup) and wine on top of it, all the extended family together in very high spirits (helped by the raki and brandy flowing freely from early on), and a Christmas celebration that I would never have experienced if I hadn’t come to Crete.
Family, family and more family, combined with the Mediterranean temperament.
A truly unique and heady experience that I would recommend wholeheartedly to anyone. Anyone who wants to escape the need to spend too much money on things that mean so little and last no time, but instead invest in each other and their family bonds.
Στην Γειά μας!!! Καλά Χριστούγεννα!!!
S.K.
We’d really like you to tell us about your experiences here too.