Sam's blog on getting merit in Yangon

Sam's been writing blogs too while we've been away - part schoolwork, part interest. I thought I should publish the odd one, so here's his first one from Myanmar...

I am in Myanmar (Burma) now, and I am enjoying it. It is extremely hot here even though it's meant to be their winter, and I always want the air conditioning on in our room. When it is at the temperature I like, Mum complains that it is too cold. When it's at the temperature she likes, I complain that it is too hot.

Close to where we are staying there is the Buddhist equivalent of a church [the Sule Pagoda, which sits, rather strangely, in the middle of a central city roundabout] surrounded by shops. At one of the entrances were women holding boxes full of finches. You could pay to release some birds from a box, which was supposed to give you good luck*. I released some birds, and there was something oddly satisfying about taking one from the box (holding it very softly of course) and throwing it in a certain direction, and then watching it fly away up high in that direction.

A young monk gets a bit of merit too 

*We discovered afterwards that there are various ethical problems with the Buddhist practice of "fang sheng" (animal release in English, not sure what it's called in Burmese), including the fact that previously captive birds don't tend to last more than a few days once released into a busy city. Also releasing random species can have an impact on biodiversity. But the thought was there, and it's still magical watching them fly away...

I wish to go to the festival

We spent just over a month in Methoni and during that time attended two local festivals - and very fine they were too.

Number 1: the Navarino battle commemoration. Navarino (20 October 1827) was part of the early stages of Greece's battle for independence from the Turks. The battle didn't actually involve the Greek forces at all, but was a chaotic stoush between British, French and Russian warships on one side and Turkish and Egyptians on the other. All in the small harbour at Pylos, a very pretty little place about 10km from Methoni. It was a battle that wasn't meant to be - the warships were menacing, but not preparing for battle. But somehow shots were fired on the Turkish/Egyptian side and the others responded and all hell broke loose. But the British/French/Russians won and the local Greeks celebrate every year. 

The first signs something was up was military marching music blaring out of the high school across the way in Methoni the day before - the kids practising their marching, I suspect - so we  made enquiries. The 190th anniversary. The following day Pylos was looking very festive, with British, French, Greek and Russian flags up all around the square and along the waterfront, and two battleships - one Greek (the Navarino, of course) and one Russian, both decorated with (naval, this time) flags. 

Proceedings started with a service at the church - every priest for miles around was present and there was lots of chanting and ringing of the bells in the square. Gathered outside the church was every secondary and older primary student in the area - lined up dressed in dark trousers/skirt and white shirt. There were groups of young women (and a few men) dressed in various traditional Greek national costumes, and older women in more matronly traditional attire. There were three older guys with tunics and headdresses and lots cutlasses and muskets, which they fired off at regular intervals during the parade later.

Just one gun going off makes you jump and alerts you a bit what it must have been like in a real battle. Then there were real military people - army, navy, air force, Red Cross. Quite a lot of bigwigs in suits, and a couple of dozen priests in their robes. It was very impressive. 

After the service everyone walked down to the seafront, where there were speeches and the laying of wreaths and playing of national anthems, and then the brass bands started and everyone paraded round the square, while the crowds cheered and clapped. 

Every chair in every cafe was full and much ouzo and coffee and lunch was consumed. It was all very splendid. In the evening there were fireworks and a light show - we think. We're not sure because we were told it all started at 9pm, but actually it was probably 8pm. By the time we got there, the main act was over, though a mocked up Turkish ship, with sails (an old fishing boat decorated for the occasion) was still burning impressively. It takes a while to completely burn a ship, we discovered. The Greek warship headed off with much blaring of ship's horn and a few more fireworks and it was all over.

The second festival was a national one - Oxi Day. It celebrates the day (28 October 1940), when then Greek prime minister Ioannis Metaxas said "No" to his former mate Benito Mussolini. Mussolini wanted to allow Italian/German forces to enter Greece and occupy certain unspecified "strategic locations" or face war. Metaxas didn't actually say "Oxi!" (no), but instead "Alors, c'est la guerre" ("Then it is war" - not sure why he was speaking in  French), but Greeks took to the streets shouting "Oxi! And since then it's been a national holiday.

Methoni's festivities are I suspect fairly muted compared with bigger places, but still good fun. Again, it all started with a church service - actually two, one for the main population and another for the school children. Here the kids are in the church just before it started.

Then we all walked to the main square, where the children marched past - even the little tiny ones - it was SO cute. And then there were poetry readings from selected students, very moving, though we understood not a word. And ouzo was drunk, and olives eaten, and everyone got a free piece of Turkish delight (except I suspect it isn't called Turkish delight in Greece) and we all went home.

Churches thriving on stony ground

There’s always a church nearby in Greece. Some are in the towns and villages, but many are in the middle of nowhere. In caves, down gorges, up cliffs, stuck in the middle of an olive grove or a rocky field.

Prodromou Monastery, seemingly impenetrable in the Lousios gorge. Still, the Turks managed to reach it.

We struggled to find the abandoned, half-ruined Ayios Panteleimon church in the middle of an olive grove near Gerolimenas in the south of the Mani. It was built in 991AD, making it one of the oldest in Greece, but amazingly you can still see the frescoes inside (see below)

The official number of parish churches and monasteries is just under 10,000, but I reckon that’s underselling Greek churches, because there are also hundreds, if not thousands, of private chapels, put up by families or communities for their own worship, on in private graveyards.

The small Byzantine town of Monemvasia, tucked into its rock in the southeast corner of the Peloponnese, had 27 churches and chapels - and that's not counting the ones built on the mainland, overlooking the rock, like the one below. (Below that are some random photos of nice churches - had to put them somewhere!)

Leonidio church, tucked at the end of the impressive Dafnon gorge

A typical tiny Maniot stone church - this one's Ayios Nikolaos, near Avia in the north of the Mani. You can still see remnants of Byzantine frescoes inside (below)

On top of all those churches, there are thousands of kandilakia, or roadside shrines. Like dolls’ chapels, they are built most often to commemorate a fatal accident or to give thanks for a non-fatal one.

Greece is still a deeply religious country, with various studies showing anything from 88% to 98% of Greeks identifying with the Greek Orthodox church. In one study in 2015, half of Greeks said they prayed regularly and a quarter attended church services at least once a week. Only 4.1% said they never prayed or went to church.

Even if you are a bit of an armchair church goer, you don’t miss out. In Methoni at least, services are broadcast right through the town with a loudspeaker on the belltower. There was no lie-in for us on a Sunday, living as we did a hundred metres up the road from the church.

And it seems even tiny, in-the-middle-of-nowhere churches are well-maintained, and well-used. One day when we were walking on a Sunday up in the hills behind Kardamyli, we came across a service in tiny Agios Nikolaos church, set in the totally ruined and abandoned village of Mavrinitsa. The priest was chanting, there were half a dozen worshippers inside and almost as many sitting around outside - three men chatting and smoking and a woman in a red t-shirt following the service from the steps - crossing herself and muttering the responses.

Until we heard the priest chanting and the bell ringing it was hard to believe this church, in the abandoned village of Mavrinistsa, was still consecrated, let alone thriving. Below: the woman in red and I listen to the service from the steps outside.

(Early the following morning, as we were walking back up the hill to pick up our car, we met the same woman, no longer in her Sunday best, coming down from her village on a tractor with her husband. She stopped, greeted us warmly and thrust bits of bread into our hands. We were bemused if grateful to be sharing her breakfast.)

Other times if we passed a remote rural church on a Sunday there would be candles and incense burners still alight, so presumably there had been a service earlier.

(Photo series below: The first time we went to the little whitewashed church of St Nektarios, in the hills behind Methoni, was during my father's not-80th-birthday celebrations, and there was no sign of life within. But when we went back on a Sunday, the candles were lit.)

Religion and state are still firmly tied in Greece. Students all attend Christian Orthodox instruction and priests get their salaries and pensions paid by the government. The Constitution specifically prohibits other religions trying to convert Greek citizens.

This church gets the prize for my favourite name (as well as being pretty gorgeous). It's the church of the Virgin Zoodochos Pege Samarina, between Ancient Messene and Chora

Perhaps this link (between church and state) is one reason why religious services are held not just on Sundays and saints’ days, but on more secular national holidays like “Oxi” Day, celebrating the then Greek Prime Minister Ioannis Metaxas saying “No!” (Oxi!) to Mussolini during WWII.  

Church and state: Priests outside the church in Pylos join the procession for the 20 October celebrations of the Navarino Bay defeat of the Turks by a combined British, French and Russian naval force. The photo at the top of the page is also taken at the same festival.

More than anything, for us tourists, Greek churches are beautiful. There are many different styles, even in the smallish area of the Peloponnese we visited. But almost all of them are lovely. Here are some more of our favourites.

Stone church in the tiny Mani village of Omales, near Areopoli

Another gorgeous Byzantine church at Mystras

Panagia Lagadiotisa cave church in a Taygetos Mountain gorge, near Mystra

Flomochori church, in the Mani

A break on a handy church bench, during proceedings at my father's "not-my-80th-birthday" walk around churches near Methoni. George Mandow, me, Paul Green, 22 October 2017

Two random dumb things about driving in Greece

1. Wearing a seat belt is compulsory by law, but plenty of people, particularly tough Greek men, don't bother. In fact I suspect following the road code is seen as a sign of weakness. (I heard that includes taking your driving test, but can't verify that!) One driver on a particularly perilous mountain road proudly pointed out he had this devise which plugged into the seat belt slot and fooled the car into thinking he had his seat belt fastened, when he didn't. That avoided the annoyance of his car making buckle-up-you-stupid-bastard beeping noises. Cunning, if you don't care about ending up dead.
2. A pastime for people in the Deep Mani appears to be taking potshots at road signs. In some areas there's hardly a sign not peppered with bullet holes. Apparently it's a problem in Crete too - another place with a warrior heritage. (I didn't take any photos, foolishly, so the one in this blog is from Crete and used with thanks to normandgayletravels.com.)