H: Let's have a big hand for Handel

I suppose strictly speaking what I am offering today as my letter H reason to be cheerful is not Handel himself, but the music he composed.

However, let's not be picky. We wouldn't have one without the other so hooray for George Frideric Handel, who was born in Germany but spent most of his life in England where he cranked out music at a prodigious rate.

George Frideric Handel and wig.

I suspect I fall in the category of people who say: "I don't know much about (INSERT SUBJECT HERE), but I know what I like."

In this instance, I don't know much about Handel's music, but I know the bits I like, probably because they're the bits I have heard most often.

So rather than waffle on about what a great bloke Handel was I'm just going to offer some of his music. Bearing in mind that I didn't want to put up very lengthy pieces of music it was a bit of a toss up between the Hallelujah Chorus and Zadok the Priest. I chose Zadok because I think it is a more subtle demonstration of the power of the human voice.

The piece has been performed at every coronation of a British monarch since 1727 when it was first performed at the coronation of George II. This particular version is performed by the Academy of Ancient Music and the AAM Choir and I think is quite wonderful. To anyone who is reading this and thinking "Oh no, religious music and it's for a boring old king or queen" all I would say is put that from your mind and surrender to the power of the piece.

Question: Do you like Handel's music? Would you have chosen Zadok the Priest or something completely different? Tell me in the comments.

* Portrait of Handel by Balthasar Denner [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a saint

Miracle worker: Agios Riginos

Today's the day everyone on Skopelos goes "three cheers" for Agios Riginos. That's St Riginos, the island's patron saint, in case you're wondering.

It's a big day here, in fact, it's such a big day people get the day off. So what happens is that the devout and others who sort of go along with that kind of thing will gather at the monastery of Agios Riginos a little way out of town and then process in to town. Throughout the day other people will visit the monastery where it is possible to view Agios Riginos's relics.

Riginos lived in the 4th century. During his time on the island it was threatened by some sort of dragon/monster. Although Agios Riginos didn't do the St George dragon-slaying thing, while he was sorting matters out a huge chasm opened up and the monster was consumed. Result: everyone happy and pleased that Riginos was the man. If you need proof, the chasm is still there which means it must be true, mustn't it?

Now I know that some people will be sniggering a bit at this story and doing the old eye-rolling bit about susceptible dimwits who will go along with any old story. To some extent I sympathise, but truth be told we all need some sort of hero in our lives and Agios Riginos is very much the man for Skopelos. Who am I to argue?

If there are any songs about Agios Riginos I've yet to find them and songs about dragons etc well...it's all getting a bit odd. So instead I've plumped for Fontella Bass and Rescue Me which might have been what the inhabitants of Skopelos were singing when our brave saint showed up.

In the land of ifs and buts

The late, great Bobby Moore. England fans
 will know of his significance, everyone else
will just have to accept he was a great man.
 Pic by Carlos Yo. Used under GNU Free
Documentation License

I know a lot of people are already fed up to the back teeth with the World Cup - yes, rugby fans, the football world cup, your turn is next year - even so I can't help following up yesterday's post.

Last night I went out to watch England who were beaten 2-1 by Uruguay, and Greece who achieved a no-score draw against Japan. This leaves England and Greece both needing a) to pull their fingers out and actually win a match, and b) other teams in their groups to have results that favour England and Greece.

Interestingly I noticed this morning that players on both teams have already invoked the Almighty as a possible means of getting through to the next round.

England captain Steven Gerrard, a man who rarely lets a carefree grin cross his face, admitted that England were now at the stage of "clutching at straws." In particular he said: "We need to be professional and pray for that scoreline to go for us."

Specifically, Stevie G needs to pray that Italy beat Costa Rica and Uruguay, something I am sure the Italians are more than capable of, and that England beat Costa Rica by a hatful of goals. Oh dear, can you see where that might go wrong?

Greece were dogged against Japan even after going down to ten men when Greek captain Konstantinos Katsouranis was sent off, something he seems to have a penchant for, having been so punished three times in his last 16 games for club and country.

Dogged or not, bottom of the group is bottom of the group. Defender Sokratis Papasthopoulos has taken a philosophical view, but then, of course, he is Greek and with that name, too. He said: "If things go well, let us get four points with a win in the next game - and if God decides that we are eliminated because of the other result, so be it." What was missed out, but I bet he said it anyway was that favourite Greek phrase "Τι να κάνουμε" - What can we do?

Decision day for both England and Greece is Tuesday, June 24. I can hardly wait, can you?

While writing this I was reminded of the desperation I feel nearly every time I watch the English football team play and "hanging on in quiet desperation" led me to this:

Question: Do you feel desperation while doing something that you really ought to be enjoying? Or is that only for England fans harking back to 1966 (and the late, great Bobby Moore)?

Going overboard about Epiphany

Come on in, the water's lovely.

So that's it, Christmas over and done with because we've had Epiphany (yet another word we get from Greek). For the Orthodox church Epiphany is when Christ was baptised, while in the Western church it tends to be the commemoration of Christ's manifestation to the Wise Men. Religious experts may wish to correct me, but I think I've got that right.

Here on Skopelos, and in many places around Greece, and probably elsewhere, the occasion is marked by a cross being flung in to the waters of the harbour and then retrieved by brave young men who dive in while large crowds in big coats watch from the quayside. This is not something for the lily-livered. Last year, when it was very cold, only one man did it. This year, there were four, which all adds to the excitement.

No one is going to hang around once they're in the water.

 The swimmer who retrieves the cross is assured of blessings and good fortune, so there is competition to be the person who gets to it first, but remember this is NOT a sporting contest. It is very much about the religion which threads itself through so much of life here in Greece.

A priest holds the cross after it was retrieved from the harbour. In
the background are some of the swimmers.

And just for the sake of completeness, let us not forget that Epiphany with a lower case e - epiphany - can mean a sudden revelation of the essence or meaning of something. I wonder if our brave young swimmers had an epiphany about the wisdom or otherwise of diving in to the chilly waters of the harbour in January this morning.

Their work here is done, time for a hot shower.

You want churches, we got 'em

A church in Skopelos town centre.

Apparently a whopping 98 per cent of people in Greece give their religion as Greek Orthodox. I read this in the CIA World Factbook so I'm taking it as sort of correct. What I didn't read in the Factbook is that here on Skopelos there is one church for every day of the year. The source of this "fact" falls in the category of something someone told me or I might have read it in a local guidebook.

The two facts - if facts they are - do seem to lend credence to each other. I would even go so far as to say that I think there might be enough churches on Skopelos for there to be several for each day, although I admit this is just an impression I have.

Anyway, rest assured that religion and principally the Greek Orthodox church is a big deal here. By no means is everyone a die hard attender of church, but it really does seem that very few Greeks will go through the course of a year without some attendance at church or acknowledgement in some way of their religious roots. And on Skopelos it's not difficult to go to church because, as I have said, there are loads of them ranging from sizeable concerns that could hold a good crowd to much more modest affairs about the size of a household garage.

As I type this, I am looking out from our house on to the rest of the olive grove and sure enough there is a small church used by the family who own this land. Most of the time it's locked up and left alone, but every now and again a small army of Greek women (never men) descend on the church to clean it up in readiness for a service. If I look out of the window to my left I can just see a small chapel in the grounds of a holiday village on the other side of the valley and if I crane my neck right round I can see the imposing walls of a monastery with its church.

A small church, but by no means the smallest.

So you get the idea, churches are to be found everywhere here and a lot of them, possibly even most of them, are not built by the church but by anyone with a bit of land and the desire to express their devotion to their faith. I suspect that's why you get so many small churches, it takes a lot of money to build something big, but maybe it's better to do anything rather than nothing.

As someone with little that I could call religious faith - other than a constant feeling of trying to get a grip on what life's all about - I find religious life interesting, but perplexing. Greek Orthodox priests are a striking sight in their black robes and lofty hats and there are few, if any, occasions of any significance here at which a priest will not be called on to attend. You certainly wouldn't launch a business without having at least one priest help get you on the right side with the Almighty.

Our neighbours, who are neither Greek nor members of the Greek Orthodox church, had a priest in to bless their new house when building work had ended. Later one of the neighbours admitted remonstrating in what he claimed was a light-hearted way with the people who organised the priest's attendance after the house was struck by lightning. "I told them the priest can't have done a very good job, but they just said if he hadn't blessed the house I might not have been here at all," our neighbour recalled, facing up to the unshakeable logic of the faithful.

Priests taking part in the Οχί day parade.

Recently I heard one member of the expat community here say: "Do you understand what Greek religion is all about? It's just superstition, isn't it?" At this point I was about to ask him to explain the differences between superstition and faith, but good manners and the desire for a quiet life intervened and I kept my mouth shut (first time for everything etc etc). Maybe the two merge in to each other and then again maybe faith is something much more important than mere superstition. And maybe the question would seem completely irrelevant to the faithful here as they kiss an icon or cross themselves on passing by a church. For them, it is not only a way of life, it is a way of expressing their Greekness which is immune to the problems currently besetting this country.

The interior of a church dedicated to St Rafael.

Easter in Greece

Good Friday, Skopelos

Easter in Greece is a BIG thing. It's religion, family and Greekness all rolled into one.

This year the timing of the Orthodox Easter and Easter in the Western church have differed by almost a month so while Easter in much of the Christian world is largely a receding memory, here and in other Orthodox countries we are bang slap in the middle of it.

This blog is not intended to offer theological instruction and if it did it would be pretty useless instruction, but the events of yesterday, today and tomorrow (Easter Sunday) carry huge significance to many people in Greece.

On Skopelos, the evening of Good Friday sees the procession of four Epitaphios (I'm unsure of the plural) which are funeral biers. It is a solemn occasion, but I was surprised to find the arrival of each Epitaphio preceded by bangers. I was also surprised, and probably shouldn't have been, by the huge number of people  from the island who take part. Entire families including very young children walk behind the biers while carrying lighted candles. I'm not religious, certainly not in a way I can articulate, but I did find it all rather moving.

My rather poorly lit pictures show each of the Epitaphios.

I'm writing this on Saturday so tomorrow is Easter Sunday by which time those Greeks adhering to tradition will have eaten some lamb's intestine soup (yes, really). During Sunday itself families will gather and feast upon spit-roasted goat and lamb. As I said, I'm not offering theological instruction but I do know what's what when it comes to eating, which reminds me....my wife is waiting for me so we can go out to dinner. Καλή όρεχη.

Nice tree, shame about the name

About this time of year here on Skopelos you suddenly start seeing large dashes of deep pink dotted around. These splashes of colour are trees and they crop up in people's gardens, at the side of the road, away up on a hill - they're everywhere. You really can't miss them, they are most striking. Here's a picture of one:

This beauty is Cercis Siliquastrum, also known as the Judas tree. It is called this because it is claimed that Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Christ for 30 pieces of silver, hanged himself from such a tree. All quite appropriate in a way seeing as we are in and around Easter. This depends on which church's calendar you go by, here in Greece the Orthodox Easter is not until May 5, but the trees are ahead of the game and showing themselves off in all their glory.

Not that this posting set out to have a religious theme, but it has often struck me that Judas Iscariot gets a bit of a bad rep, as I believe they say in some TV police shows. After all, if he had not become a paid informer, the Romans would not have arrested Jesus, he wouldn't have been crucified, then there would have been no resurrection and the central basis of the entire Christian religion would have never got off the ground (or out of the ground?).

Anyway, I digress, and I DO love a digression, and let's face it the whole question of which tree Judas Iscariot might have used is, I am sure, always going to be open to debate. In any case, there are other theories about why the tree is commonly known as the Judas tree. Still on the suicide theme, one of these is that the seedpods of the tree can dangle in a way reminiscent of Judas's suicide....mmm, nice. Another is that in French, the trees are called Arbre de Judée meaning tree of Judea where they used to be common.

The official name, given by Linnaeus back in the 18th century, derives from the Greek word for the weaver's shuttle and the Latin word for pod, but evidently calling the tree the Shuttle Pod tree wasn't good enough for  Linnaeus.

So, does the name really matter? Broadly speaking no, they are lovely trees which go on to develop attractive foliage and for ease of identification as much as anything I shall continue to call them Judas trees. But anyone who thinks "it's just a word" might like to ponder how many Judases they have met - that is as in people called Judas rather than treacherous types. You see, I told you the name carried weight.

The Judas tree can go by another name, which is the Love tree, but in all honesty it's just not as memorable, is it? So Judas tree it shall remain and don't let that name put you off, they are stunning.