After much whistling and arm waving to clear the route, the traffic police would stand aside as a black limousine surrounded by other cars and motorcycle police emerged from a side street in Neo Psychiko and made its way downtown. Were it not for its frantic speed, the motorcade might have passed for a funeral cortege. George Papadopoulos was on his way to work. Watching the procession in silence, people must have often wondered what went on in the mind of the man almost crouching in the corner of the back seat of that car. He never waved. Save for the salute from the police, people gave no sign of acknowledgment as he went by. They just stared.
Correspondents are now descending on Athens from all over the world to witness the trial of George Papadopoulos and his fellow conspirators for treason. What will not be on trial are the system and the society that produced men of their kind. What we are not likely to learn is what made them tick. We live in an era excessively aware of the psychological aspects of issues and events. Armed with masses of statistics on human behaviour and the jargon of the social scientists, we reduce human beings to skeleton images, and concepts to platitudes which we apply at random. Papadopoulos and Company were ‘strongmen’ and ‘dictators’, the coup was ‘tyrannical’. Yet they were mere by-products of an era marked by a large amount of oppression and a Greek version of McCarthyism. When change began to appear in the 1960’s many did not like it, and welcomed or tolerated the Junta because it seemed, at the time, preferable to the social disorganization which is an inevitable component of transition and development. While we follow the legal proceedings, we might ask ourselves about the social forces that produced the conspirators. We should remind ourselves of our own individual responsibility and of the concentration camp psychology — the result of too many years of oppression, of abuse of civil liberties, and contempt of the individual — that paved the way for the Junta.
Ice Cream City and Other Athenian Resorts
IN THE desert heat of Athens, working people dream of their summer vacations, which, alas, last a mere two weeks. In Athens, however, there are easily accessible oasis-like spots of greenery where people gather at night to dine or to eat a sweet. Regardless of the hour, there are always lots of children about — and even more cats. Both are found mostly under tables but are often seen chasing each other around the tables and up the trees.
While certain parts of Athens are too well known, others are ignored by visitors to our city. Yet these unsung quarters offer the most genuine atmosphere to be found here. All evening entertainment here in Greece must have one end in view: to eat and drink, preferably out-of-doors. Perhaps the most popular and traditional outing is to the suburb of Nea Philadelphia, or Pagotoupolis (Ice Cream City), as it is known to middle class Athenians. Settled by Asia Minor Greeks in the exchange of populations in 1922, it became the new home of kaimaki ice cream. This Anatolian specialty is made from the top of the milk and is often spiked with mahleb which is related to mastic. The milk of water buffalo makes the best kaimakiana is flown down from Macedonia daily for this purpose. In Nea Philadelphia one can also find irani, a delightful cold drink made from squashed melon pips. All about the square and the park of Nea Philadelphia there are cafes serving kaimaki most of the night, as well as tavernas serving good, cheap food.
There are other quarters in Athens with their own character and their own specialties. One goes to Aigalio for ouzo and meze, to Ilioupolis for wine and chops, and to the nearby Ayis Yannis, up on the slopes of Hymettos, for rabbit.
Behind the site of the old Averof prison there is a green, breezy corner where they serve ghida (she-goat). The Baraki (Little Bar) is a pleasant place just below the fancy establishment on the top of Lykavittos. In general, though the slopes of Lykavittos, like the Zappion Gardens, are more favoured by lovers than by diners. But, then, both these activities are stimulated by a cooling breeze.
A Venus in Your Living Room
PAUSANIAS in the Second Century described at least 250 statues in the city of Athens. In the far-larger Athens of today only 101 are to to be found in outdoor public places, according to a survey recently published by the Faculty of Architecture of the Polytechnic. Some solace is to be drawn, however, from the fact that eighty-four of these are more than life-size and that a number are gigantic. While the Kolonaki area is rich in nineteenth-century intellectuals, heroes of the War of Independence are by far the most popular subjects. Kolokotronis, by the way, is the only hero honoured with two statues, one in front of the Old Parliament and one in the Pedion Areos (Champ de Mars). The reason for this favouritism is no doubt due to the fact that Kolokotronis spent most of his life on horseback dramatically pointing out the enemy. In former days, Kolokotronis at the Old Parliament also served a utilitarian purpose as he pointed out the exact direction to the men’s public lavatory.
This paucity of public statues not-withstanding, anyone, we are happy to report, can now have a full-blown Venus de Milo (or de Louvre) right in his own home without the Archaeological Service making suspicious inquiries, and, what is more, you may have them shipped back to Ipswich, Dusseldorf, Salt Lake City or wherever, with its blessings.
There are two exhibitions of plaster casts of ancient artifacts in Athens, one organized by the Ministry of Culture (at Filellinon 17) and another at the National Archaeological Museum (at the Tositsa Street entrance). Since 1958 there has been a workshop employing thirty-five skilled artisans reproducing for the state exact replicas of ancient works. The originals are cast in molds and reproduced faithfully with every crack, pit and scar in place. With the cooperation of the House of Zolotas the exhibitions were recently enriched with exact copies of Mycenaean jewels which can also be bought and which begin at 500 Drs. for copper reproductions and rise to 6000 Drs. for gold ones.
You can buy’off the rack’, as it were, reproductions of the Marathon Boy, the Heads of the Charioteer of Delphi and the Poseidon of Artemision, an Aphrodite without a head, parts of the Parthenon frieze, Tanagra figurines and many others. The cheapest item is a copper replica of a ballot ball (140 Drs.) and the most costly a full-sized Venus de Milo or thePoseidon of Artemision for a very reasonable 30,000 Drs. A replica of any particular Old Favourite will be made to order upon request.
As far as we know, however, reproductions of Kolokotronis are not available. Greek patriots living abroad will have to produce their own if they want to have the old hero pointing out the enemy from atop a horse in their backyards.
Streakers Beware
THE explanations for what in late July began as a demonstration by construction workers and ended in a riot, have puzzled both the politicians and citizens who have been hard put to know where to lay the blame. It also puzzled several bystanders. In the spirit of not knowing whether to laugh or cry, we have decided to share some of their experiences with our readers.
Among the bewildered was our old friend, Kyrios Stelios, who suffers, along with his distress over the way the world has gone to the dogs, a severe case of myopia. Having broken his only pair of glasses the day before, he found himself on the day of the riot stumbling down to pick them up from his optician where they were being repaired. A few minutes before he arrived on the scene, his optician, Vassilis Stavrou, was busy fitting a nervous young lady with contact lenses. Stavrou’s shop is just off Omonia Square. Unaware of what was going on outside, he dismissed the customer’s complaints when she kept insisting that her eyes were stinging since he is accustomed to young ladies fussing when they are being fitted with lenses for the first time.
In a few minutes, however, his own eyes were stinging and tears began to roll down both of their faces. Suddently a tear gas bomb came smashing through the shop window. Mr. Stavrou and the customer fled to the street just as Kyrios Stelios arrived to pick up his glasses. In his usual acerbic fashion, he announced that the pollution was getting worse, the youth of today were wild and noisy, and that he had turned down his hearing aid to deaden the racket. Of course, he couldn’t hear Mr. Stavrou’s explanations that they were in the midst of a riot. The optician finally gave up. and with a handkerchief over his mouth returned to his shattered shop and located our old friend’s glasses. Kyrios Stelios put on his spectacles in time to witness a scene taking place at that moment in the square itself: an unidentified man, presumably a tourist, had removed his clothes and was frolicking in the fountain apparently oblivious to the drama approaching at that moment. We suppose the strip-teaser must have expected some reaction from the gendarmerie but we can only speculate as to what he thought when several armoured cars drove up and began to pelt the area with tear gas bombs. According to Kyrios Stelios the man grabbed his clothes and ran. ‘Kalo ton kanane,’ said Kyrios Stelios, ‘that’s the way they should deal with all streakers.’ We are still trying to convince our old friend that the fourteen hours of rioting were not the result of the police over-reacting to a hapless streaker.
First Lady to the Rescue
JOHN Koutsoheras, parliamentary deputy for Athens, has lately suggested that laws governing dowries be abolished. Calling the dowry a backward tradition which is an insult to the person who gives and to the one who receives, Koutsoheras argues that it contradicts the constitutional clause which decrees equal rights and obligations between men and women. The dowry, he says, is an offense to human dignity and belittles the civilization of this country.
During an interview later in the same month, the First Lady of Greece, Ioanna Tsatsos (who is also a poet, writer and sister of the late Nobel prize poet, George Seferis) objected to any changes in dowry laws at this time. Dowry laws protect the interests of women, she said, and so long as a man expects to receive payment for a woman, the laws should stand as they are. It is not laws that need alteration but the prejudices of men themselves.
The President’s Lady at the same interview was asked what she believed her brother would have thought of her becoming the First Lady of Greece. ‘He would have laughed,’ she said. ‘He had a great sense of humour.’
The Good Shepherd of Fiorina
BISHOP Augustinos of Fiorina is one of those Jeremiahs who delight the good folk of this country by reminding us of how sinful we all are. A proposal before Parliament regarding automatic divorce is the reason for his latest telegraphed sermon. In brief, the proposal suggests that after eight years’ separation, either party to a marriage can get a divorce automatically. In order to bring the full attention of our readers to the fiendishness of this proposal, we quote from the Bishop’s telegram which runs to several hundred scorching words:
‘Automatic divorce is supported by the social circles of the sinful city, the New Babylon of Hellenism. There is reason to fear that it will become a reality for our unfortunate country. Stop. Formal protest by the Church for well-known reasons is non-existent. Honourable Greek women, latter-day Penelopes, faithful to their marital vows, will experience the greatest bitterness of their lives when concubines are crowned in the central churches of Athens with their [the latter-day Penelopes’, not the concubines’] true husbands. This is the final blow to the God-fearing mystery of the Christian wedding. Stop. The scandal will be enormous. In cases such as this the Church acts in the shameful role of panderer to the general corruption. If the Greek state wants to organize family life according to the examples of the corrupt centres of Western Civilization, then it should establish civil marriage for those who have ceased to believe in the Gospels and the sacred traditions of our people. Stop. The church wedding, as a mystery of the Orthodox Church, should remain where the theanthropos [Christ] placed it. The breaking up of this mystery by civil powers is an intrusion of Caesar’s upon the things that are God’s. Stop.’
An organization called ‘Family Hearth’ in general agreed with the Bishop, adding that the proposal was up primarily for the benefit of ‘four or five interested deputies’. Since the ‘Family Hearth’ did not identify the ‘four or five’, the country has been burning with speculation. We have kept a careful list of all those nominated for the roles of ‘interested’ deputies and have arrived at the figure of 350 which is very impressive when one considers that there are 300 deputies in Parliament.
