Hot morning and the forecast says it will be near 40 °C. The heat makes me lazy to travel in the middle of the day. We postpone our trip for later on that day to our destination called Livadi, a village in the region Leonidio, Peloponnese. The village numbers 17 inhabitants. During the summer tourists visit this region. Even then, it is not crowded. It gives a feeling that you still can feel free and find your place enjoying quietness.
One day we decided to visit the grandma of our family member. To come to that village we needed to park down and walk up for 10 min. It was not easy, how grandma is doing it I was wondering. I heard she had a beautiful view from the terrace, and to be honest, curiosity brought me there. We arrived at her house with a beautiful view of the sea and a garden full of greenery. I could have imagined a hotel there, or a big group of friends enjoying, having a nice time.
Grandma welcomes us and kisses us. It is normal and very common in Greece to be kissed for the first time someone sees you. We came with a girl of 2.5 visiting her great-grandmother. While the girl was running around and eating sweets that her great-grandmother gave us, she started answering questions. There were many. In the village once lived more than 550 people, and today there are only 70. Many houses are empty now and in the last 20 years Germans, English and French have started buying houses in the village. At the first moment, she did not like the idea foreigners living there but now she talks about them differently.
She married when she was 20 years old. Her marriage was arranged by her parents. Her husband was working on overseas ships and he was leaving often for periods of sometimes longer than a year. She raised her kids mostly by herself. In the summer mornings, she would bring kids down to the beach, with donkey carrying food and in the evening she would bring them up.
She never traveled anywhere. She went to Athens a few times and once to the Tinos island.
In the courtyard there is a cistern. She uses water from the cistern for drinking. “It is water from god” she says. The state supplied water that she has now is only used to water a garden.
Her story has sparked memories of my grandmothers. Both are no longer with us. Grandma is an important person in the life of a child. I’ve never lived near my grandmas. I saw them during the summer when we were going to the village where both of them lived. My most precious experience was visiting my grandparents in the countryside. Walking in the nature, silence, domestic animals, organic food you can’t experience in cities. I was spending my summer holidays there, without my parents. When I grew up a little bit, I was collecting the plums in our plum grove, but that was a difficult job and I was a spoiled city girl. I liked the fun part of being in the village, not so much the working part. I realized that it was not all fun and that it was much harder for them than for us living in the cities. Our grandmothers raised children, sometimes more than three. They worked in the field all day, prepared lunch and found time for some handiwork. They were creative. They did not usually go to school, writing and reading they did by themselves.
Both grandmas were born the same year. One came from a rich, one from a poor family. One had short black hair, the other one long white hair. The one with white hair would divide her long hair into two parts and make two braids. She would merge those two braids and wrap around her head. I always liked to watch as she combed her white long hair. Although she wore a scarf over her head, she always had neat hair.
One liked to read love novels and books, the other one to sing. One was silent, the other loud. They both showed me how to knit for the first time. They both had a big vegetable garden that had to be watered every day. I loved to water the garden and make holes that I filled with water. It was always a game for me.
Like I said, they are no longer with us. I always like to remember them. There is a lot of difference in the characteristics and interests of my grandmothers, but their love for me and my love for them was the same. When I write, I recall some memories but let them stay for some other story.
For all grandmothers out there!