A busy sidewalk in the port of Tinos Town is about to be blessed with new
flagstones, amidst great attention from local know-it-all types. Tinos Town is
the capital of an officially holy island, Tinos, one of the Cyclades.
Two young men are drilling, digging and shoveling, in a somewhat self-conscious
way, aware of the onlookers standing around or sitting at the cafes across the
street. The heat is no problem, it's only May. The two could be brothers: slim
and sinewy, in their mid-twenties, short dark hair, wearing blue jeans and
T-shirts, a blue and a sleeveless red one. Occasionally, the boss turns up to
lend them a hand, give instructions and support them morally.
There was digging on Tinos in 1823, too, accurately observing the instructions
of Pelagia, a nun who had dreamt of a miraculous icon of the Virgin Mary, in
Greek called Panagia. The icon was actually found and has played a pivotal role
ever since, not only on Tinos but in all Greece. Its home is Evangelistria
Church, a beloved place of pilgrimage erected above the finding spot, at the end
of Pilgrim Street. The nun was canonized in 1971 and Tinos simultaneously
appointed a holy island.
Today's digging goes on right by the sea, just where the flagged sidewalk ends
and the quay's surface of concrete takes over. No wonder the old flagstones were
broken or worn down, for people tramp on them constantly when hurrying to and
from busses and ferries or simply strolling around town. So the new ones need
stronger foundations, the reason why the two young men dig deeper and deeper,
knowing what a bad impression it would make if pilgrims got injured due to
defective flagstones. After all, they visit Tinos to get rid of their burdens,
not to incur new ones.
Even in their absence, the pilgrims leave their stamp on Tinos Town. Numerous
hotels and spacious taverns and cafes along the waterfront indicate that this
town is prepared to receive invasions of people, coming from every corner of
Greece to be relieved and healed by the power of Panagia and beg for miracles.
The main festivals are held in March and August, causing the population of 6000
to multiply. These crowds challenge the Greek sense of business, which here
walks hand in hand with religion and creates a surprisingly cheerful atmosphere.
Cycladic Views
Perched atop a large rock on the other side of the bay, stands a monument to
citizens killed during WW II, a popular vantage point at sunset. The young
workmen certainly bring their girlfriends there once in a while, to enjoy the
curved port and the white town lying at their feet. The harbor lights up first,
before the contours of the palatial Evangelistria Church, the town's highest
point, gradually begin to shine. Another rock, the majestic Exombourgo, towers
in the background, as was it a step to Heaven..
Young people are no doubt inspired by the ferry boats arriving and departing
with romantic chains of light from bow to stern. The workmen and their girls may
not have much money or spare time, but that should not keep them from traveling.
In fact, Tinos is optimally located with neighboring Cycladic islands a short
trip away: Andros, Mykonos, Syros, Paros or Naxos. If they dream of going to the
capital one day, Athens is easily accessible, via Piraeus or Rafina on the
mainland.
However, there is work to do first. The next day, digging proceeds, despite
countless interruptions from wise guys contributing with their advice and loudly
arguing among themselves. The most eager one is the fish seller who has
strategically placed his little blue and white cart on the actual corner. He's a
short middle-aged charmer with an unruly moustache and whiskers, endowed with a
roaring voice calling out today's special offer, of which he has plenty as his
boat is moored close by.
The fish seller can't help interfering when others make stupid proposals. His
customers must wait. To make matters worse, he's constantly on the point of
losing his trousers, having forgotten to put on a belt this morning. He keeps
quiet, though, as the boss arrives to put iron grating into the holes, which a
cement truck is already waiting to fill. The young workmen seem to appreciate
their boss, although he clearly shows that pouring and leveling out the concrete
is too important to leave it to them.
Miracles
Two categories of men are completely indifferent toward the flagstone renewal:
first, the priests walking by in long black robes, with a big beard and a tall
hat; second, the always freshly shaved port police officers in immaculate white
uniforms. Five elegant ladies, just taking a seat at Poseidon Cafe opposite,
couldn't care less either. They even ignore the cars, including heavy trucks,
thundering past centimeters from their elbows.
The ladies are extremely irritated with an old man shouting to his mate because
he himself can't hear. To restore peace, the men move indoors, and the ladies
relax; three of them elderly with dark-dyed hair, the other two younger and
apparently natural blondes. At a neighboring table, a man in his late twenties
sits staring into space, motionless, accompanied by his aging parents. The
mother, casting a glance at the flagstone workers outside, seems to wish her son
was like them. Turning their son into a sane person would require a miracle,
probably what they came to beg of Panagia.
Dogs on bikes are no miracle, but it's miraculous how they don't fall off. A
golden retriever rushes by on a scooter, between its owner's legs. Another
doggie, pale and long-haired with brown patches, prefers the rear seat of a red
motorbike. Shortly after, the same driver returns, now carrying his entire dog
family. One helps steering, another is parked in a box on the carrier, a third
one bravely struggling not to fall down while clinging to the seat behind,
sideways.
In the meantime, the workmen carefully adjust the size of the new flagstones,
then it's time to mix mortar. Having worked the flags into place, they sweep the
pavement thoroughly, set up barriers and start gathering their belongings. They
could have skipped the sweeping, because the rain falls quietly for hours the
following day, working miracles on the new flagstones which end up shining like
white marble, in sharp contrast to the darker old ones.
The two guys had deserved a day off after their efforts, but they're already
digging new holes a few hundred meters away, far enough to be left alone. Wet by
the rain and feeling a bit lonely perhaps, they look toward the previous corner
shyly, as if ashamed to admit they long to be back in the center of town; to be
surrounded by middle-aged men arguing loudly and going on about their flagstone
work, each of them convinced he himself is a true expert. Although maddening,
they do make the young guys the center of attention while fixing the sidewalk.
TM
A busy sidewalk in the port of Tinos Town is about to be blessed with new
flagstones, amidst great attention from local know-it-all types. Tinos Town is
the capital of an officially holy island, Tinos, one of the Cyclades.
There was digging on Tinos in 1823, too, accurately observing the instructions
of Pelagia, a nun who had dreamt of a miraculous icon of the Virgin Mary, in
Greek called Panagia. The icon was actually found and has played a pivotal role
ever since, not only on Tinos but in all Greece. Its home is Evangelistria
Church, a beloved place of pilgrimage erected above the finding spot, at the end
of Pilgrim Street. The nun was canonized in 1971 and Tinos simultaneously
appointed a holy island.
Even in their absence, the pilgrims leave their stamp on Tinos Town. Numerous
hotels and spacious taverns and cafes along the waterfront indicate that this
town is prepared to receive invasions of people, coming from every corner of
Greece to be relieved and healed by the power of Panagia and beg for miracles.
The main festivals are held in March and August, causing the population of 6000
to multiply. These crowds challenge the Greek sense of business, which here
walks hand in hand with religion and creates a surprisingly cheerful atmosphere.
Perched atop a large rock on the other side of the bay, stands a monument to
citizens killed during WW II, a popular vantage point at sunset. The young
workmen certainly bring their girlfriends there once in a while, to enjoy the
curved port and the white town lying at their feet. The harbor lights up first,
before the contours of the palatial Evangelistria Church, the town's highest
point, gradually begin to shine. Another rock, the majestic Exombourgo, towers
in the background, as was it a step to Heaven..
However, there is work to do first. The next day, digging proceeds, despite
countless interruptions from wise guys contributing with their advice and loudly
arguing among themselves. The most eager one is the fish seller who has
strategically placed his little blue and white cart on the actual corner. He's a
short middle-aged charmer with an unruly moustache and whiskers, endowed with a
roaring voice calling out today's special offer, of which he has plenty as his
boat is moored close by.
Two categories of men are completely indifferent toward the flagstone renewal:
first, the priests walking by in long black robes, with a big beard and a tall
hat; second, the always freshly shaved port police officers in immaculate white
uniforms. Five elegant ladies, just taking a seat at Poseidon Cafe opposite,
couldn't care less either. They even ignore the cars, including heavy trucks,
thundering past centimeters from their elbows.
Dogs on bikes are no miracle, but it's miraculous how they don't fall off. A
golden retriever rushes by on a scooter, between its owner's legs. Another
doggie, pale and long-haired with brown patches, prefers the rear seat of a red
motorbike. Shortly after, the same driver returns, now carrying his entire dog
family. One helps steering, another is parked in a box on the carrier, a third
one bravely struggling not to fall down while clinging to the seat behind,
sideways.
The two guys had deserved a day off after their efforts, but they're already
digging new holes a few hundred meters away, far enough to be left alone. Wet by
the rain and feeling a bit lonely perhaps, they look toward the previous corner
shyly, as if ashamed to admit they long to be back in the center of town; to be
surrounded by middle-aged men arguing loudly and going on about their flagstone
work, each of them convinced he himself is a true expert. Although maddening,
they do make the young guys the center of attention while fixing the sidewalk.