Life is a cabaret

In spite of the tens of millions of work hours lost in strikes annual-ly and the growing reputation that Greeks are the laziest people in the EEC, August each year is a holiday month which becomes increasingly nationwide.

This 31-day state of bliss and innocence is reflected in newspapers and magazines, which devote page after page to pictures of nudity on beaches (even the once vigilant church seems to have gone on furlough) and society pressing on to buffet tables groaning with the good things of life.\

These visual feasts are accompanied by lengthy captions which list the whole roster of the rich and powerful, the beautiful and famous, in the process of overeating and drinking deep. Accompanying are texts brief and breezy, such as: “Summer and all Greece celebrates! From Evros to Crete, from Corfu to Mytilini, there are nothing but fairs and pageants, folk festivals and band playing, receptions and garden parties…”.

The few kill-joy articles on stricter austerity measures and a 15 percent increase on all utilities are obviously written by rankling journalists whose hack work prevents them from joining the carefree throngs.

Among public figures, the prime minister, as always, sets the example and style for all to follow. He believes that one should work and play equally hard. Water sports in Elounda, Crete; Santa Maria, Azores; Ixtapa, Mexico were all carefully worked into a schedule which includes a grand plan for global nuclear disarmament, well-publicized, at least in Greece. A swim in the Pacific, carefully photographed, was symbolic that world peace is still possible to dip one’s toe into.

When they toss wreathes into the sea, like President Sartzetakis, or are all off windsurfing, there is, to everyone’s relief, no new – or at least no bad news. They should be encouraged to hang-glide all year round. If Turkey ruffled the waters a bit by sending out several survey ships among the Greek islands, it’s at least understandable that they should want to joint in on all the international Aegean fun.
Though Americans might not be “going home” in such great numbers this year, almost everyone else was. Princess Margaret was resting at home on Corfu and so was Neil Kinnock. (The Elgin marbles have not come home – yet). Catherine Deneuve was frolicking at home on Mykonos and Prince Albert of Monaco was jogging at home in Athens on the hottest day of the year.

On Crete, which so often steals the headlines from excess, trigger-happy guests after a riotous wedding reception took a pot-shot at opposition leader Constantine Mitsotakis, who was resting himself on a balcony.

But the one holiday-maker whose activities received the greatest attention was Vangelis Rohamis. One morning several weeks ago he woke up, shaved, put on suit and tie, and casually strolled out of Korydallos Prison. An observer later said, “He looked like a real gent”. It was not a reprieve, however. It was a jailbreak. Stepping into his dark blue BMW, the country’s most wanted criminal was wanted once again. Outside of his family and friends, no one may love Rohamis, but a nation which treasures its klephtic traditions during centuries of foreign occupation, and a younger generation which has been raised watching Hollywood westerns on TV, can’t help having a heart large enough to find place for a desperado who has style.

The gendarmerie at this time were busy watching forest rangers, struggling with inadeqate equipment, trying to put out the fires which have regularly consumed a good part of the country during the first week of August for the last 10 years.

In any case, it is unlikely that Rohamis held the torch. The police set up blocks on the National Road and stopped a number of suspects. BMWs, however, are not at all rare in spite of the enormous import tax and neither are men in sunglasses, and the “Man with a Thousand Faces” could not be found.
It might seem natural that a man who’s been away for awhile might want to visit his hometown, see his old friends and haunts, but when Rohamis stopped by for a spree at the Arapakia cabaret outside of Vasiliko, Evia, all were taken by surprise. By the time the police arrived, Rohamis had sauntered away with a refreshed stockpile of arms and ammunition and abducted two girls, one of whom fell out of the BMW in the next village.

Rohamis struck again in equally colorful ways for the next week and then vanished for awhile. His German licence plate number, by the way, is KIS 996, and the gendarmerie can usually be found by calling 100.

Though August is over, the fires are out, vacations are ended and politicians are preparing for the municipal elections, Rohamis, wanted dead or alive, is still on holiday.