[RO] Versiunea in romana poate fi citita aici.

15/11/2018

Thessaloniki, Greece

Ah, how I wish I knew greek now! As I write these words I’m waiting in Thessaloniki station for a train to Larissa. Three sweet old ladies are talking noisily next to me. Each one of them has asked me whether I’m going to Larissa. Although I have gesticulated that I don’t speak greek, they still insist that I know their language. My destination is Kalambaka, where I wish to find the beautiful Meteora. I have to change trains at Paleofarsalos, but I believe we’re all going the same way. I tell them in english that this is the right train and smile. As I wait, I contemplate on the events that have happened so far.

The three sweet old ladies from Thessaloniki train station.

Fani, a good friend whom I had met at GOYGB camp (Greek Orthodox Youth of Great Britain) showed me around Thessaloniki on my first day here. The tall, huddled buildings gave me the impression of a colourful Bucharest. Bizantyne churches and roman ruins fragment the modern with voices from the past. Hundreds of cafes ornate the city with greek music and student laughter. Cars and scooters cover the streets, with some cars blasting out greek music through their speakers. Very rarely have I heard something in english.

Thessaloniki from above.

The city reminded me of a colourful Bucharest.

The majority of menus have greek letters and many a time have I tried to read them, in hope that we have common words (little success). Mum would love it here, it’s full of confectionaries. I recognized many of the cakes we have in Romania, like baklavas. In fact, many things reminded me of home, but especially of Bucharest. The rich confectionaries, the pop up shops near bus stations, the short, bulky people, with their dignified looks, the multitude of churches and the kindness of the locals. Ah and how can I forget about χαλαρώ (halara = relax), the main word for thessalonians. The athenians have always wondered at the eternal calm of thessalonians. 

Greek confectionary.

Cakes my mum would love.

The greatest miracle of this place is something else, however. Dozens of stone churches arise from the sea of modern buildings. Most of them are in a Byzantine style, with some dating from the 5th century after Christ. Under this well treaded earth await thousands of martyrs like St. Demetrios, his good friend St. Nestor and St. Anisia. The greatest of them all is, of course, St. Demetrios the myrrh-streamer (Agios Demetrios), the protector of thessalonians. I visited his holy relics three times until now and felt great joy from him. During the christian persecutions from Roman times, christians used to pray in secret, in catacombs. Under the walls of St. Demetrios’ church one can visit these caverns baptized in tears and blood. The saint himself was impaled with a spear on the ground where his church now stands.

Me in front of St. Demetrios the myrrh-streamer’s church

The catacombs under St. Demetrios’ church.

Little Byzantine church amongst the modern buildings.

The Arch of Galerius (roman emperor) or Kamara, dating 4th century A.C.

On Sunday me and Fani went for the Liturgy at St. Haralambos’ church, a replica of a monastery with the same name from mount Athos. After a blessing we went to another church, Acheiropoietos (5th century A.C.) for coffee and socializing. Young people from all around the world gather here under the wing of Father Spiridon. It is a truly blessed place! I met three theology students from America, Ignatius, Vincent and George; John, a greek who speaks romanian and who studied in Iasi (Romania); Andra, a romanian who speaks greek and studies history here; Eleftheria, a young lady of amazing joy, who is doing her masters in antique theatre. They all radiated of an unutterable gladness!

After coffee, I went with Fani and a few other people for…another coffee, of course. Let’s not forget ‘halara’! Greek coffee is like the one mum makes on new year’s night, when our guests wish to stay awake until the morning…and the following day. After an hour of chatting, Fani’s brothers came to pick us up and drove us to their family home for lunch. The Pliaki family is a rare beauty. They are seven brothers and sisters, Fani, Vicky, Oreste, Thomas, Aristotle, George si Nicolae. Mother Maria and father Iorgos also joined us at the table.

Vicky, an angel of a child, always smiling, gently asked me to say The Lord’s Prayer in romanian. After the prayer we feasted on meatballs, baked potatoes, musaka, cabbage and beetroot salad, pickled peppers, tzatziki and many other culinary delights. Some people were fasting, since Christmas lent had started. Either way, we all had a plenteous meal, in a deep, respectful silence.

Sunday lunch with the Pliaki family.

From the left: Aristotle, Oreste, Vicky, me (Anamaria), Fani, Thomas and George. Nicolae was away 🙂

After lunch we told stories in the living room. Fani’s father went for his afternoon nap, after having instructed me on Greece’s history for half an hour. He talked about the origin of the world’s languages and how some european words come from greek. Although interested by the conversation, I couldn’t help but think of the film My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Before our departure mother Maria even packed up a food box for me. Aristotle and Thomas then drove me and Fani back into town. They didn’t escape their mother’s generous food boxes either. How lovely it is to see this family meet on a Sunday!

I forgot to mention the sea, the beautiful Aegean sea! A buoy full of cyclists, fishermen and wanderers like me connects it to Thessaloniki. Not too far from it one can find Aristotle square, named after the famous greek philosopher. On Monday I followed his example and philosophized about the works of art in the photography museum, which lies in the old port. One of the exhibits was on the refugees that found a home in Thessaloniki. I was touched by their war stricken gazes. Other pieces talked about the contrast between poverty and wealth in the world. Some made an appeal for protecting the environment or made people aware of how poor people live in places like China.

The Aegean sea, tied with Thessaloniki.

Aristotle’s square on a november day.

Exhibition on refugees who have found their peace in Thessaloniki.

In Hong Kong, for example, dozens of british colony buildings were destroyed, evacuating dozens of families. The reason? Building taller, more solid and productive skyscrapers. What a difference between this place and Thessaloniki, where the modern architecture is imbued by the Byzantine empire style. Ah, but this city suffered as well! Invasion after invasion, first the romans, then the turks and finally the germans. In the White Tower one can discover many stories about these honest and cheerful people. Their song seeps into the heart and whispers of a painful history for the ears that wish to listen.

Anyway, it is time to let my thoughts settle now. I’m on the train towards Meteora with a talkative american and a shy canadian. I’ll leave you with these images from Meteora, a truly blessed place! My adventures there can be better expressed through the visual medium…

Meteroa in autumn.

St. Varlaam monastery.

St. Varlaam monastery and Meteora valley.

[EN] English version can be read here.

15/11/2018

Salonic, Grecia

Ah, ce as vrea sa stiu greaca acum! In timp ce scriu aceste cuvinte astept trenul spre Larissa in gara din Salonic. Alaturi de mine, trei batranele simpatice vorbesc galagios. Fiecare din ele m-a intrebat daca merg spre Larissa. Desi le-am gesticulat ca nu vorbesc greaca ele insista acum ca le inteleg limba. Eu merg la Kalambaka pentru a vedea frumoasa Meteora si schimb la Paleofarsalos. Cred insa ca e acelasi tren pentru toate patru asa ca le spun in engleza ca se afla unde trebuie. In timp ce astept, meditez asupra celor intamplate pana acum.

Cele trei batranele simpatice din gara Salonic.

Fani, o prietena buna pe care am cunoscut-o in tabara GOYGB (Greek Orthodox Youth of Great Britain) mi-a aratat Salonicul in prima zi aici. Blocurile inalte si ingramadite mi-au dat impresia unui Bucuresti colorat. Biserici bizantine si ruine romane fragmenteaza modernul cu voci ale trecutului. Sute de cafenele care de care mai moderne impodobesc orasul cu muzica greceasca si rasete de studenti. Masini si scutere impanzesc strazile, cu unele masini bubuind a muzica greceasca. Foarte rar am auzit ceva in engleza.

Salonicul vazut de sus.

Salonicul mi-a amintit de un Bucuresti colorat.

Majoritatea menu-urilor au litere grecesti si nu de putine ori m-am chinuit sa le inteleg, poate, poate avem cuvinte comune (putin succes). Mamei i-ar placea aici, e plin de cofetarii. Am recunoscut multe din produsele pe care le avem si in tara, cum ar fi baclavalele. De fapt, multe lucuri mi-au amintit de Romania, dar mai ales de Bucuresti. Cofetariile bogate, magazinele din statiile de autobuz, oamenii micuti de statura, cu priviri demne, multimea de biserici si bunatatea oamenilor. Ah, si cum sa uitam de χαλαρώ (halara = relax), cuvantul de baza al tesalonicenilor. Atenienii sunt mereu mirati de calmul etern al tesalonicenilor. 

Cofetarie greceasca.

Prajituri de care i-ar placea mamei.

Dar minunea cea mai mare a acestui oras ramane altceva. Sub marea de blocuri moderne se ridica cu barbatie zeci de biserici de piatra, in stil bizantin, unele din secolul V d. Hr. Sub pamantul acestui oras asteapta mii de martiri precum Sf. Dimitrie, bunul sau prieten Sf. Nestor, Sf. Mucenita Anisia. Cel mai mare dintre ei este, desigur, Sf. Dimitrie Izvoratorul de mir (Agios Dimitrios), protectorul Salonicului. I-am vizitat racla de trei ori pana acum si am simtit multa bucurie de la el. In timpul persecutiilor romane, crestinii slujeau in ascuns, in catacombe. Sub zidurile bisericii Sf. Dimitrie se pot vizita aceste caverne botezate cu lacrimi si sange. Insusi sfantul a fost impuns cu sulita in locul in care sade astazi biserica sa.

Eu in fata bisericii Sf. Dimitrie Izvoratorul de mir.

Catacombele de sub biserica Sf. Dimitrie.

Bisericuta bizantina intre blocurile moderne.

Arcul lui Galerius sau Kamara, din secolul IV d. Hr.

Duminica am mers la Liturghie in biserica Sf. Haralambos, o replica a unei manastiri cu acelasi nume din muntele Athos. Dupa o binecuvantare am mers cu Fani la o alta biserica, Acheiropoietos (din secolul V), pentru cafea si socializare. Aici se aduna tineri din intreaga lume, sub aripa parintelui Spiridon. E un loc cu adevarat binecuvantat! Am cunoscut trei tineri din America, Ignatius, Vincent si George, studenti la teologie; John, un grec care stie romana, fost student la Iasi; Andra, o romanca care stie greaca, studenta in istorie aici si pe Eleftheria, o tanara de o veselie molipsitoare care isi face masterul in teatru antic. Toti radiaza de o bucurie tinereasca minunata!

Dupa cafea, am mers cu Fani si alti cinci tineri la…o alta cafea, desigur, sa nu uitam de ‘halara’. Cafeaua greceasca e cum o face mama la revelion, cand avem musafiri care vor sa stea treji pana dimineata. Dupa o ora de stat la povesti, au venit fratii lui Fani sa ne duca la masa acasa la parintii lor. Familia Pliaki e de o frumusete cum rar am intalnit. In total sunt sapte frati si surori, Fani, Vicky, Oreste, Thomas, Aristotel, George si Nicolae. Mama Maria si tatal Iorgos ne-au insotit la masa.

Vicky, un inger de copil, mereu zambitoare, m-a rugat cu blandete sa spun eu Tatal Nostru in romana. Dupa rugaciune ne-am pus pe piftele, cartofi copti, musaka, salata de varza si sfecla rosie, gogosari, tzatziki si multe altele. Unii posteau, fiindca tocmai incepuse postul Craciunului. Oricum ar fi, cu multa liniste si respect, toti ne-am bucurat de un pranz imbelsugat.

Masa de duminica cu familia Pliaki.

De la stanga: Aristotel, Oreste, Vicky, eu (Anamaria), Fani, Thomas si George. Nicolae era plecat 🙂

Dupa masa ne-am pus pe povesti in sufragerie. Tatal s-a dus la somnul de amiza, dupa ce imi povestise de istoria Greciei vreo jumatate de ora. Mi-a vorbit de originea limbilor lumii si cum unele cuvinte grecesti seamana cu cele europene. Desi interesata de conversatie, mi-am amintit usor amuzata de filmul My Big Fat Greek Wedding. La plecare mama Maria mi-a facut si un pachet. Aristotel si Thomas ne-au condus pe mine si Fani inapoi in oras. Nici ei n-au scapat de pachetele bogate ale mamei Maria. Ce frumos se intalneste familia Pliaki duminica!

Am uitat sa mentionez marea, frumoasa mare Egee! O geamandura plina de biciclisti, pescari si hoinari ca mine o uneste de Salonic. Nu departe de ea sade piata lui Aristotel, marele filozof grec. Luni i-am urmat exemplul si am filozofat asupra lucrarilor de arta din muzeul de fotografie, din portul vechi al orasului. Una dintre expozitii era cu refugiatii care si-au gasit adapostul in Salonic. M-au impresionat privirile lor atinse de ororile razboiului. Alte lucrari expuse vorbeau despre contrastul dintre saracie si bogatie in lume. Altele faceau apel la protectia mediului si locuintele ascunse ale oamenilor in China.

Marea Egee, unita de Salonic.

Piata lui Aristotel intr-o zi de noiembrie.

Expozitie cu refugiati care si-au gasit linistea in Salonic.

In Hong Kong au fost distruse sute de locuinte de pe vremea coloniilor engleze, evacund zeci de familii. Motivul? Construirea zgarie-norilor mai productivi, mai inalti si mai solizi. Ce diferenta intre acest loc si Salonic, unde imperiul Bizantin se imbina cu arhitectura moderna. Ah dar cat a si suferit acest oras, invazii dupa invazii, de la turci si apoi nemti. In turnul alb se pot afla multe despre vietile acestor oameni sinceri si zambitori. Cantecul lor strapunge inimile si asterne o istorie dureroasa la picioarele celor ce vor sa il asculte.

Oricum, las gandurile sa se aseze acum. Sunt in tren spre Meteora cu un american vorbaret si o canadianca timida! Va las cu aceste imagini din Meteora, un loc cu adevarat binecuvantat! Aventurile mele acolo pot fi exprimate mai bine in fotografii…

Meteora toamna.

Manastirea Sf. Varlaam.

Manastirea Sf. Varlaam si valea Meteorei.