Knitting on Kythera?
I am currently researching to write a book on the cultural, social, economic and political history of knitting. I wonder if there is any tradition of knitting on Kythera. I have not yet found a shop that sells any yarn on the island and have only ever seen one woman knitting (and she was a visitor from the Peloponnese!). When I have spoken and watched women in Greece knitting they often either put the yarn around their necks or hook it over a special loop pinned just under their necks: apparently this helps provide a constant tension. I wonder if this practice is the same on Kythera? If there is not a knitting tradition then what other forms of needle-craft are traditional on the island.
If anyone would like to contact me regarding this then my e-mail address is drlizmuir@gmail.com
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _
>Remembering a visit to Lourandianika
By Maria Whyte (nee Marcellos)
Sitting on the stoop of my fathers family home in Kato Livadi, I gazed across the peaceful land, spread as far as I could see. A young girl, just 15 years of age. My thoughts went back to the life I had left in Australia, remembering special times in my life. Sitting on a wooden crate, watching an "uncle" peeling potatoes by hand, in the basement of my fathers cafe in Sydney. Preparing the chips that would be cooked in the kitchen upstairs, meals which would be served to the many customers. My thoughts went to the special times I would visit my beloved father, who, when he saw me walk in, his face would light up at the sight of me, and he would immediately, without asking, start preparing my favourite strawberry soda, with an extra scoop of ice cream, and the froth on the top of the oversized glass.
My father would sit at his special booth, and as always, he would bring his plate of tomato soup, and as then, he would eat his well done steak, with salad, and the chips which I had sat and watched being made, and I would drink my strawberry soda, and we would talk. My father always willing to listen to my stories of how my day had been spent. These thoughts flashed across my mind, and I found myself thinking, how, would I survive the many months, which lay ahead of me, on this quiet island?
Going from a life, filled with visiting friends and relatives, enjoying the monthly Kytherian dances, which were a highlight of my life, visiting museums, missing my school friends. Spending weekends and holidays, working at my fathers side in his magnificent garden. Rows of vegetables, intermingled with flowers, trees heavy with fruit, my small bunny roaming free in this large garden, how would I adjust to a life which was so foreign to me?
Little did I realise that I would come to love this quiet island life. Braving the cold blustery winter winds, to walk to Upper Livadi, to visit my grandmother and grandfather. My grandfather, such an impressive man, tall in stature, laughing as I played with his long white beard, listening to his quiet, and gentle teachings, such wise words, which I would embrace later in life. My first experience riding a donkey, which left me very unsure after my first attempt, but, after walking such a long distance, over roads covered with large stones, riding a donkey became something looked forward to.
The experience of my first time entering the family Church next to my father's home. So small, but so perfect in every way. I would enter it every day, and I would light a candle, and quietly speak a prayer, asking for the strength to embrace the island life which was to be mine for the next 10 months. I was given permission to clean this magnificent tiny Church. What an honour. I felt so humbled. The peace I felt when I stood alone, looking at the perfection of the icons, and the sheer beauty, which I feel, is, where I believe, my love of tiny churches originated. Little did I know that in the future, I would choose a tiny Church to exchange my marriage vows, and to take our fifth child to the same small Church for her baptism.
My thoughts once again drifted back to the days of travelling by train for 7 hours, to spend school holidays with family members, being cared for by a loving aunt and uncle and spend time with my cousins, in a country town. Such wonderful memories, sitting in my uncle's cafe, weighing lollies, putting them into bags, stapling them, ready for sale. The fresh smell of the country air, was strangely reminiscent of the fresh air of this quiet island.
I had been raised and had instilled in me from a very young age, a respect for work. My father had bought me a small straw broom, and he would give me a little "job", to sweep the paths of our family home. My father wanted to teach me the value of work, and to not expect anything for nothing. He never spoke these words to me, but, whenever I expressed a wish for something, it would miraculously appear. The piano lessons which I had lost interest in, and my wish to learn the violin. The violin appeared, and the piano lessons were put on hold. My father knew me so well. I would lose interest quickly, and he was right, but, wisely, enabled me to have my every desire recognised, and to allow me to choose which road I wished to follow, and always supported my decisions.
Sitting on this stoop, overlooking Kato Livadi, these were the thoughts which were going through my mind. Little did I know, that as the months passed, I would speak less and less English, and had started speaking only Greek, and not only did I speak only Greek, but, I also picked up all the slang words which were so frequently used by my many relatives. They became so natural. The young girl, who had every luxury a parent could give, became a young girl who would sit in her father's home happily on a cold winter's night, and with aunts filling a large steel bucket with hot coals from the wall oven, we would sit enjoying the warmth which filled the room, speaking of the day's news. The smell of fresh bread baking in the wall oven, and the ease of the conversation, never once thinking of a life left behind.
Yes, the months passed. Such happy fulfilling times, and 10 months later, sitting on the same stoop, tears rolled down my cheeks as I realised that the time had arrived to leave this idyllic life. Leaving my "best friend": a girl, my own age, "Marika". Taking with me the wise words spoken by my grandfather, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and the many wonderful people, who made Cerigo for me. My parents had started instilling in me the values of life, but the lessons I had learned during those many months, from people who lived their lives so differently, truly taught me so many values, which, only the people of Kythera, with their simple life, but such high standards, would instil in me for life.
When I returned to Kythera some years ago, sitting in my father's family home, I looked up, and there stood "Marika" coming directly from her work in the fields, a little afraid that I would not remember her, but the years fell away as if by magic, and as we embraced, with tears of joy on our cheeks, we were the two young girls again who had formed a friendship that time had not changed.
The magic of Kythera has put me in touch with so many long lost family members and friends. People whom I called "uncle" and "aunt" out of respect, have entered my life again. One such person, signed off their letter to me, calling this a miracle, saying, "from someone who was there the day I was born". Indeed a miracle. The magic of Kythera.
Maria Whyte (nee Marcellos)
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _
>Kytherian Youth Camp Project - Called the Skinia Σκηνια (Tent) Project on Kythera.
submitted by George Poulos, 14.12.2008
The "Tent Project" is the most exciting Kytherian Project since the advent of www.kythera-family.net. If it is realised, it will have equally powerful positive ramifications for unifying Kytherians around the world. Particularly Kytherian youth. It is a mega-project of great quality.
The purpose of Σκηνια is to create an accommodation and recreation facility for children and young adults from the island of Kythera, Greece, and the rest of the world. There they will engage in sports, ecological, heritage and cultural activities. The purpose of providing the accommodation under tents is to appeal to children’s and young adults sense of adventure. All the rest of the facilities (See 1-7 on the Plan) are fixed and enclosed structures. The plan includes at (10) a Sports field – one of the facilities desperately required by children and young adults on Kythera. The facility will be located on (separate) Church land 68.25 metres from the border that surrounds the Monastery of Ayios Theothoros, located on the main central road between the towns of Potamos & Aroniathika. The area of the land is 14305,05 sq.m. (i.e. 14 stremmata) The land on which Σκηνια will be built is unencumbered by mortgage. The building is 153 m2.
The concept is the brain-child of Father Petros Mariatos. Father Petros is the resident priest of the church oft the Panagia (Virgin Mary) of Ilariotissa in Potamos. The title Doctor Priest, indicates that Father Petros was formally a surgeon at the Hospital of Potamos. He received a “religious calling” later in life. To this day he ministers to his congregation’s physical, as well as their metaphysical needs. This is a mega-project that most of us, who understand Kythera, have previously only dared to dream about. Soon that dream will become a reality.
You can read more and see pictures about it here, as well as view the donation appeal:
http://www.kythera-family.net/index.php?nav=26&cid=14&did=16283&pageflip=1
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _' />
Knitting on Kythera?
I am currently researching to write a book on the cultural, social, economic and political history of knitting. I wonder if there is any tradition of knitting on Kythera. I have not yet found a shop that sells any yarn on the island and have only ever seen one woman knitting (and she was a visitor from the Peloponnese!). When I have spoken and watched women in Greece knitting they often either put the yarn around their necks or hook it over a special loop pinned just under their necks: apparently this helps provide a constant tension. I wonder if this practice is the same on Kythera? If there is not a knitting tradition then what other forms of needle-craft are traditional on the island.
If anyone would like to contact me regarding this then my e-mail address is drlizmuir@gmail.com
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _
>Remembering a visit to Lourandianika
By Maria Whyte (nee Marcellos)
Sitting on the stoop of my fathers family home in Kato Livadi, I gazed across the peaceful land, spread as far as I could see. A young girl, just 15 years of age. My thoughts went back to the life I had left in Australia, remembering special times in my life. Sitting on a wooden crate, watching an "uncle" peeling potatoes by hand, in the basement of my fathers cafe in Sydney. Preparing the chips that would be cooked in the kitchen upstairs, meals which would be served to the many customers. My thoughts went to the special times I would visit my beloved father, who, when he saw me walk in, his face would light up at the sight of me, and he would immediately, without asking, start preparing my favourite strawberry soda, with an extra scoop of ice cream, and the froth on the top of the oversized glass.
My father would sit at his special booth, and as always, he would bring his plate of tomato soup, and as then, he would eat his well done steak, with salad, and the chips which I had sat and watched being made, and I would drink my strawberry soda, and we would talk. My father always willing to listen to my stories of how my day had been spent. These thoughts flashed across my mind, and I found myself thinking, how, would I survive the many months, which lay ahead of me, on this quiet island?
Going from a life, filled with visiting friends and relatives, enjoying the monthly Kytherian dances, which were a highlight of my life, visiting museums, missing my school friends. Spending weekends and holidays, working at my fathers side in his magnificent garden. Rows of vegetables, intermingled with flowers, trees heavy with fruit, my small bunny roaming free in this large garden, how would I adjust to a life which was so foreign to me?
Little did I realise that I would come to love this quiet island life. Braving the cold blustery winter winds, to walk to Upper Livadi, to visit my grandmother and grandfather. My grandfather, such an impressive man, tall in stature, laughing as I played with his long white beard, listening to his quiet, and gentle teachings, such wise words, which I would embrace later in life. My first experience riding a donkey, which left me very unsure after my first attempt, but, after walking such a long distance, over roads covered with large stones, riding a donkey became something looked forward to.
The experience of my first time entering the family Church next to my father's home. So small, but so perfect in every way. I would enter it every day, and I would light a candle, and quietly speak a prayer, asking for the strength to embrace the island life which was to be mine for the next 10 months. I was given permission to clean this magnificent tiny Church. What an honour. I felt so humbled. The peace I felt when I stood alone, looking at the perfection of the icons, and the sheer beauty, which I feel, is, where I believe, my love of tiny churches originated. Little did I know that in the future, I would choose a tiny Church to exchange my marriage vows, and to take our fifth child to the same small Church for her baptism.
My thoughts once again drifted back to the days of travelling by train for 7 hours, to spend school holidays with family members, being cared for by a loving aunt and uncle and spend time with my cousins, in a country town. Such wonderful memories, sitting in my uncle's cafe, weighing lollies, putting them into bags, stapling them, ready for sale. The fresh smell of the country air, was strangely reminiscent of the fresh air of this quiet island.
I had been raised and had instilled in me from a very young age, a respect for work. My father had bought me a small straw broom, and he would give me a little "job", to sweep the paths of our family home. My father wanted to teach me the value of work, and to not expect anything for nothing. He never spoke these words to me, but, whenever I expressed a wish for something, it would miraculously appear. The piano lessons which I had lost interest in, and my wish to learn the violin. The violin appeared, and the piano lessons were put on hold. My father knew me so well. I would lose interest quickly, and he was right, but, wisely, enabled me to have my every desire recognised, and to allow me to choose which road I wished to follow, and always supported my decisions.
Sitting on this stoop, overlooking Kato Livadi, these were the thoughts which were going through my mind. Little did I know, that as the months passed, I would speak less and less English, and had started speaking only Greek, and not only did I speak only Greek, but, I also picked up all the slang words which were so frequently used by my many relatives. They became so natural. The young girl, who had every luxury a parent could give, became a young girl who would sit in her father's home happily on a cold winter's night, and with aunts filling a large steel bucket with hot coals from the wall oven, we would sit enjoying the warmth which filled the room, speaking of the day's news. The smell of fresh bread baking in the wall oven, and the ease of the conversation, never once thinking of a life left behind.
Yes, the months passed. Such happy fulfilling times, and 10 months later, sitting on the same stoop, tears rolled down my cheeks as I realised that the time had arrived to leave this idyllic life. Leaving my "best friend": a girl, my own age, "Marika". Taking with me the wise words spoken by my grandfather, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and the many wonderful people, who made Cerigo for me. My parents had started instilling in me the values of life, but the lessons I had learned during those many months, from people who lived their lives so differently, truly taught me so many values, which, only the people of Kythera, with their simple life, but such high standards, would instil in me for life.
When I returned to Kythera some years ago, sitting in my father's family home, I looked up, and there stood "Marika" coming directly from her work in the fields, a little afraid that I would not remember her, but the years fell away as if by magic, and as we embraced, with tears of joy on our cheeks, we were the two young girls again who had formed a friendship that time had not changed.
The magic of Kythera has put me in touch with so many long lost family members and friends. People whom I called "uncle" and "aunt" out of respect, have entered my life again. One such person, signed off their letter to me, calling this a miracle, saying, "from someone who was there the day I was born". Indeed a miracle. The magic of Kythera.
Maria Whyte (nee Marcellos)
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _
>Kytherian Youth Camp Project - Called the Skinia Σκηνια (Tent) Project on Kythera.
submitted by George Poulos, 14.12.2008
The "Tent Project" is the most exciting Kytherian Project since the advent of www.kythera-family.net. If it is realised, it will have equally powerful positive ramifications for unifying Kytherians around the world. Particularly Kytherian youth. It is a mega-project of great quality.
The purpose of Σκηνια is to create an accommodation and recreation facility for children and young adults from the island of Kythera, Greece, and the rest of the world. There they will engage in sports, ecological, heritage and cultural activities. The purpose of providing the accommodation under tents is to appeal to children’s and young adults sense of adventure. All the rest of the facilities (See 1-7 on the Plan) are fixed and enclosed structures. The plan includes at (10) a Sports field – one of the facilities desperately required by children and young adults on Kythera. The facility will be located on (separate) Church land 68.25 metres from the border that surrounds the Monastery of Ayios Theothoros, located on the main central road between the towns of Potamos & Aroniathika. The area of the land is 14305,05 sq.m. (i.e. 14 stremmata) The land on which Σκηνια will be built is unencumbered by mortgage. The building is 153 m2.
The concept is the brain-child of Father Petros Mariatos. Father Petros is the resident priest of the church oft the Panagia (Virgin Mary) of Ilariotissa in Potamos. The title Doctor Priest, indicates that Father Petros was formally a surgeon at the Hospital of Potamos. He received a “religious calling” later in life. To this day he ministers to his congregation’s physical, as well as their metaphysical needs. This is a mega-project that most of us, who understand Kythera, have previously only dared to dream about. Soon that dream will become a reality.
You can read more and see pictures about it here, as well as view the donation appeal:
http://www.kythera-family.net/index.php?nav=26&cid=14&did=16283&pageflip=1
.._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _..._ _ _" />
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