May Day in Aivali (Photios Kontoglou)

May Day in Aivali

By Photios Kontoglou

When did spring arrive and adorn the earth like a bride! Everywhere is lushness and freshness. Where there were just barren lands, you now see greenery; where you once saw dry soil scorched by the northern winds, you now find a carpet woven with a thousand colors. The wild rocks are embellished as if by the hand of some painter. All of nature rejoices. Every living creature becomes more enlivened, and those that were not alive are brought to life.

Birds sing, butterflies and golden orioles, and various kinds of insects flutter or walk upon the ground. The swallows have arrived from warm regions and are hastily building their nests; the storks stand atop the domes of the church on one leg, tapping their beaks. The sea calms and invites people to refresh themselves.

Small boats, little skiffs, which were pulled ashore during the winter and whose boards were cracked and dry, now emerge from the harbors and venture into the open sea. Joyful voices and songs can be heard from both land and sea, as if the burdens of the world have finally vanished.

The eye, the ear, the touch, as if they are more vivid, more sweet. Yet even if one sits in a place where they cannot see and cannot hear these joyous messages of spring, they still feel a certain exhilaration, as if the air is filled with a sweet harmony, as if an immortal spring is welling forth from the mysterious root of the world.

Even the blind, the deaf, and the paralyzed perceive these mysterious currents that spring brings, rejuvenating every creature endowed with the gift of life. The compassionate Father who created the world now seems to warm it upon His heart during spring, and all understand His blessing.

For this reason, David also says: "When You open Your hand, all things are filled with goodness." "When You open Your hand and scatter Your blessings, everything is filled with happiness." And elsewhere, it is said: "In You is the fountain of life, and Yours is the beauty of nature."

Who can, therefore, remain in his wickedness, now that all creatures are happy and call upon one another to rejoice in the peace of life? The sky has scattered its dark clouds and its furious storms, hiding its lightning bolts. The sea, that untamed beast, has also become gentle and calm. The mountains have been tamed. All schools have sweetened. How can, then, the soul of man, which is the mirror in which reflects the joyful face of God, remain in darkness?

May Day remains forever etched in our souls from our childhood. And if someone is even just a little poetic, they feel their heart soar even more on May Day. From the previous evening, we fall asleep with that blissful sleep that young people experience, blessed with health in both body and spirit. We had prepared foods ready to take with us, and they were good foods, delicacies, because in our region, people were known for their love of fine dining.

We would wake up before dawn and descend to the seashore to board the boats, for we usually celebrated May Day at sea. The boats were elongated vessels similar to the skiffs of the City, yet larger and heavier, fitted with awnings made of tarpaulin and equipped with a lateen sail. These boats could accommodate fifteen to twenty people.

As each ferry filled up, it gradually drifted away from the shore, and we formed a group of three or four ferries heading to the same destination. Further along, others set off to different places. Joyful voices and banter filled the air. Our teachers sat in the most comfortable spots, with soft, relaxing cushions. As we were about to embark, the crowing of roosters could still be heard. The ferry operators were all delightful people, warm-hearted and cheerful. They rowed diligently, for at that early hour, the sea was like glass. Some students chatted, while others played instruments.

In our land, we had very beautiful shorelines that cannot be found in other places. They appeared to resemble those of Japan, with all their small coves, inlets, sandy beaches, strange stones, closed bays, narrow passages, small islets, solitary rocks, porous cliffs, and peculiar formations, almost as if they were artificial. These poetic shorelines seem to be located in areas that once had volcanoes, which fragmented the land, softened it, and bestowed upon it this charming diversity that is absent in regions where the land is solid and monotonous.

There was an Inner Sea and an Outer Sea, meaning the open ocean. The Inner Sea was the most beautiful, a true dream. It was enclosed like a large lagoon, divided into smaller sections by numerous small islets that emerged here and there, creating inlets, coves, and salt pans. As the little boat sailed along, it felt as though a magical door opened before you, leading you into another lagoon, and then another, and then yet another, an exquisite experience!

On May Day, people and schools used to visit various monasteries and chapels. In the Outer Sea were Saint Nicholas at Gümüslük, Saint Demetrios at Selina, Pateritsa, Saint George at Psifi, Leka-Panagia, and the Taxiarches. In the Inner Sea were Saint Nicholas at Tsamia, Saint Paraskevi, Saint John the Forerunner, Saint Kyriaki, Nisopoula, Saint George, and the Prophet Elijah. Before the sun rose, we had covered quite a distance.

In the bay, numerous boats, rowboats, and large skiffs traveled, all powered by oars, brimming with people — men, children, and women. From every direction, one could hear songs, laughter, and musical instruments. The low hills, the trees, the stones along the shore, the skiffs — all were reflected in the sea, which was still steeped in shadow, and each vessel cast soft ripples upon the calm water, leaving behind a silver line within the deep shadow of the water, resembling velvet. This shadow varied in hue; at times it appeared greenish, at others brownish, and on some occasions dark blue. What beauty that was!

The boatmen were all dressed in trousers like the sailors of '21, and they rowed with rhythm. The ferries, one behind the other, went from beach to beach, and the eye could not be satiated with the view. Here we pass within two to three furlongs from a steep cape, which is made up of strange black rocks, covered with seaweed and trees that have sprouted in their seams.

Many things lean over us, and as we pass, we gaze upon them and they drift away above the mast of the caique. One or two have taken root at the top of the rock, which resembles a black statue, and these pines are akin to umbrellas. The sea is deep and clear like crystal at the shallows, and it enters into some dark caves.

As we pass near the cape, we lean over and look out from the railing, and distinctly discern the bottom of the sea, the seaweeds, the grazing fish, and various types of seafood clinging to the black rocks, while above them our boat glides by without completely stirring the water.

This cape is known as the Eagle’s Nest. Opposite stands another rock, lower in height, but solid and devoid of greenery, hollowed out like an arch, through which boats pass; that is why it is called the Hollow Stone. These two capes are at the entrance of a bay, and they are very close to each other, as two people seated on either side can converse when the sea is calm.

Once one passes the Eagle’s Nest, they see smaller cliffs, and among them, little coves adorned with tiny snails as white as rice. Shrubs descend down to the seashore. Somewhere inside, the sound of bells from unseen goats can be heard, hidden among the trees. Only the shepherd reveals himself atop a rock and calls out: "Have a good time!"

On the shores where the sea enters the land, one sees a fishing boat nestled and tied to a tree, covered by the branches of the trees. Above, a heavy and rare mountain, Fat Mountain, gradually comes into view. Two or three vultures circle above the peak that overlooks the Outer Sea. The shoreline curves, forming a cove, low and sand-lined, filled with bulrushes and jujube trees.

Further on, the landscape becomes rocky, and in this area, one can see the ruined chapel of Saint Kyriaki, with a small harbor where two or three fishing boats are docked. From the opposite side, one observes some shepherd’s huts constructed on the sandy shore, nestled between two capes adorned with peculiar trees. We pass again near another rock, which is accompanied by two rocky formations resembling a ship. Above it stands a mountain with two pointed rocky peaks. They call it "The Rabbit's Ears".

Behind you can see another mountain, which has a round plateau at the top, and it is called "The Demon's Table". These two strange mountains are mirrored upside down in the sea and become even stranger. In front of them stands a mountain with a huge and very strange rock, and on top of it is built the Monastery of Saint Paraskevi. You feel like you are seeing a monastery in Tibet.

In the midst lies an islet, resembling a ship, that appears to be floating on the water, almost unreal. This is Nisopoula. Surrounding it stand low mountains and various types of rocks, each crowned with a tree, and their formations are so peculiar that they are unforgettable. Where should one begin to gaze! Lying on the stern, one delights in what they see and feels truly blessed...

As we reach the place where we will spend May Day, the sun rises two to three fathoms high. We step outside joyfully and scatter in groups under the trees. The fountain flows with cool water. Further beyond, there are beautiful orchards. Many set out to the sea to gather mussels and clams. Some swim, while others brew coffee.

Meanwhile, the porters are carrying out the bedding, the pillows, and the baskets with the food. Old Nikolaos Arthounas, the stout Georgaras, and Stelios Livanis also act as if they were children. "Out with worries! Out with troubles!" Barba-Bardakas, who is also "learned," states with a smile: "The best thing is quiet!" And he lies down on a blanket to doze off.

Thus, we spent May Day as if we were in Paradise. Whatever we saw, our pure imagination connected it with Robinson, with the islands and the seas that Jules Verne speaks of in his books: "Beneath the shade of those ancient trees, Emery converses with Mokoum...", "the marvelous Orinoco", "The mysterious island"! A group, the most romantic, were nestled in the dense trees, and from afar, their singing could be heard, as if the forest were reciting the words of the song:

In my dense shade I sleep quietly,/
under my branches I sleep fearlessly./
A nightingale’s voice will lull you,/
and a mountain breeze will cool you./
Behold, a flowery bed, it calls you,/
Let your timid head rest fearlessly.

As the sun was setting, we entered the straits to return to the city. Since midday, the breeze had calmed, and the sea was sweetly frothing. We set our sails, and it carried us smoothly. The shores passed quickly before us, and we saw the waves pulling toward the land, frothing upon the sand and stones. The trees swayed as if to greet us, as if they were saying, "Farewell! Until next year!"

How pure our life was! How noble the feelings we harbored in our hearts!

Source: From the book Aivali, My Homeland. Translated by John Sanidopoulos.