Feathered Friends

THERE IS a saying amongst Greeks that in June the swallows return — and by swallows they mean the foreign tourists. Indeed they come punctually each year in great flocks, clustering on beaches, perching on crumbling old columns, pecking at the local specialties and fluttering through museums in great droves.

We locals will be doubly pleased to see tourists this year, and, as always, delighted to see their money. Besides that, we have missedtourists. As a result of the Turkish invasion of Cyprus and the General Mobilization last year, all the swallows suddenly flew away in the middle of the summer, leaving 200 and 300-bed nests empty and many a nocturnal roost quite bare.

The reputation of tourists has, admittedly, suffered in the last twenty years throughout the world. Familiarity breeds contempt and with superabun-dance, the personal touch is lost. A generation ago every tourist was ‘a lordos’, a curious species of rare plumage. In those days whole villages turned out to take a look at him. Invariably the first question put to him was, ‘What is your father’s first name?’ as if this might assist in the matter of identification. Today the tourist is a bird valued only for plucking. Yet this is all very much on the surface.

The fact of the matter is that xenophobia is a pose that is very hard for Greeks to keep up and it soon looks very affected. Sometimes Greeks grow angry with countries and their policies, but we cannot remain angry with individual persons. Greeks pride themselves on their shrewdness, yet they have curious lapses. Aware that our country is favoured by a fine climate, by a unique physical beauty and by imposing remnants of an extraordinary past, we rarely realize that the chief attractions to the tourists are the citizens themselves — when they are least aware of it. So at this point of personal contact — which is the most rewarding— 1975 should be a good year for the swallows and their hosts, for the birds and the bird-watchers both.

Long Live the Ex-King! (Far, Far Away)

IF THE presence of the former King of Greece is ever to be missed by a majority of the population it will be on the twenty-first day of the fifth month of the year, which happens to be St. Constantine’s Day and his Nameday. During his reign it was a national holiday. With democracy, however, it was just another work day this year notwithstanding the fact that our August Prime Minister is a Kostaki himself.

Royalists, however, loyally remembered the former king and, wishing that the people would, too, went about Athens on the eve of May 21 scattering feuilles volantes. For those who may be wondering what, indeed, they were scattering it should be explained that the upper strata of Athenian society, which account for the bulk of the royalists in the urban area, tend to pepper their speech with French words. The local press decided, therefore, that it would be more appropriate to refer to the royalists’ billets-doux to the ex-king as feuilles volantes (flying leaves) rather than ‘leaflets’ — those handouts with which liberals and radicals litter the streets.

Nothing as mundane as prose would do and so for the occasion the royal-supporters composed a rhymed couplet which succeeded in reminding us once more that for some curious reason most of our poets nowadays are to be found amongst the Left. The ditty went something like this:

Happy Returns to the Great Absentee, May He next year with us hopefully be!

The day was also commemorated by the formation of a new political party. Mr. Koudouras, a member of the Royalist Union Party formed just before last December’s referendum, announced the inauguration of the Panhellenic Union of Royalists. The word ‘panhellenic’ was no doubt added to give the movement an ecumenical’ touch, suitable to a wandering, ‘decrowned’ monarch, who some will argue, finds his greatest support among Greeks living safely abroad.

Perhaps Mr. Karamanlis can work out a compromise on this matter in his new constitution by declaring the former King’s name day (and his own) a half-holiday. Certainly the leaders of the Opposition would be placed in a most awkward position if they dared to object to giving their constituents a holiday. (It would be very interesting to see how the workers’ parties would try to get out of that one.)

Officials of the Athens police, by the way, declared that if they had been privy to the distribution of these feuilles volantes, poetry or no poetry, they would have arrested the offenders for littering.

Pug, Peg, Pog

WHILE Greece was the cradle of Everything that Matters it is a wise man who bears in mind that it was also the cradle of Women’s Liberation. One should not forget the celebrated fragment of Heddagablera of Knossos, who flourished during the Middle Minoan III-D period. Her inscription on a Linear-B tablet ‘Male Ch..vin..t Pag’ (or Pug, Peg, Pog or possibly Pig) is chanted by women all over the world today. Indeed, when one considers such milksop examples of masculinity as Jason, Agamemnon, Hippolytos, Orestes and Haemon, it becomes very clear that in the Age of Myth it was the men who were in need of Liberation. The Great Zeus himself was perhaps the most ridiculous figure of all time, forever throwing caution to the wind as he dashed off after every ‘skirt’ that crossed his path, and, worse, spending half his energy cringing from his wife’s wrath.

His wife, Hera, by contrast, was a sensible woman who, it may be said, laid the foundation for Women’s Lib. She valiantly did battle to protect her interests and investments, usually exacted a tribute in the form of her own temple (strategically placed near old Zeus’s) and left no doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with. While she had the odd affair here and there, she never allowed her dalliances to interfere seriously with her responsibilities.

Then, of course, there were fictional figures such as Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, for whom he drew inspiration no doubt from the women he knew, as well as historical figures such as Aspasia, the woman behind Pericles, and Cleopatra. The latter traced her ancestry back to Macedonia which is where Mr. Karamanlis is from but as far as we know his ancestors and hers were not related. In modern times Bouboulina roamed the seas, sending the nation’s enemies scattering, a mere one hundred and fifty or so years ago. This gallant lady, who captained her own ship during the War of Independence, had to her credit the sinking of several Turkish vessels that had, to their misfortune, crossed her path. Although our recent history has not recorded women of such stature, we are certain that women of fine mettle are still to be found among Grecian ladies of today. We cannot help but wonder, as a matter of fact, why it has not occured to Mr. Karamanlis to replace some of the Pugs, Pags or Pogs on his cabinet with latter day Heras, Lysistratas, Cleopatras and Bouboulinas. With one of them as Admiral of the Navy, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind as to who, indeed, has exploration rights in the Aegean.

Meanwhile as the Prime Minister struggles along as best he can with his all-male cabinet, and Parliament quibbles over details of the rights of women in the new constitution, Kolonaki is smouldering with revolution. This became clear on the night of May 19 when a group of women held a meeting there. The occasion for the gathering was the presence in Athens of Karen De Crow, the President of NOW, the National Organization for Women (probably the largest women’s rights group in the world) founded some years ago by Betty Friedan and other women activists in the U.S. The meeting in Athens was attended officially by a large number of Greek and non-Greek women and unofficially by several alarmed males eavesdropping from an adjoining room. Most of the foreign women have a long standing association with this country and many are married to Greek men. It was interesting to note how little agreement there was between these two groups (we will ignore, as the ladies did, the third group lurking in the next room) as to what exactly is the status of women in Greece.

To begin with, there is a problem of definition of terms. Concepts such as ‘family’, ‘mother’, ‘father’, ‘child’ carry different meanings depending on the class or culture. Even more complex is a word such as ‘abortion’ which is emotion-charged in most western counties. In Greece, where ‘abortion on demand’ has been in effect for years — even though it is still technically illegal — it is not an explosive issue. The word ‘dowry’, apart from the degrading implication that it ‘puts a price on a woman’s head’, may carry a negative meaning for women of modest means for whom it is a necessary prerequisite to marriage, but a positive meaning for privileged women who may regard it (and they are legally entitled to do so) as an ‘advance’ on their rightful inheritance and a source of financial independence and security. Contrary to popular belief, a dowry is rarely a direct transfer of money or property to a husband, but remains in the wife’s name.

Cultural and semantic differences may alter the meaning of the issues, but Greek women are becoming increasingly aware of f/jeirrights, as evidenced by the growing number of activist groups. As with most revolutions, this particular, relatively quiet one is an activity of the elite. For the moment its effects have not seeped down to rural women. Perhaps the good ladies of the countryside, as they go off to tend the fields while the men languish over their ouzo at the kafenion, draw comfort from the knowledge that if they ever went on strike they might well bring to a screeching halt our economy which still depends heavily on income from agriculture.

The Woes of the Taxitzis

OFFICIALS say that there are more taxis per capita in Athens than in almost any other European city. The reason is not difficult to uncover. During the Junta, the government liberally and enthusiastically handed out taxi permits to their political informers who served as valuable and inexpensive eavesdroppers. Up until a few years ago, license plate numbers used to be issued in consecutive numbers. Passengers, in Junta Times, always looked at the plates before entering a taxi and if the number was under 250,000 they felt safe to talk about something other than the weather within earshot of the driver.

Now with an economic recession, more private cars and a great increase in the price of petrol, cab drivers are suffering from a lag in their work. A group of them now have formed a committee to investigate the possibility of decreasing the number of taxis. No doubt they have some legitimate complaints, but the cab drivers may encounter considerable public opposition : recession or not at the first drop of rain it is still almost impossible to find an empty cab.