Sunday, April 19, 2009

Kaló Pás'ha, Ethan

At the moment of sunset, Ethan had Brit quickly dress before making their way through the city to where the men with the skiff waited. “Are we leaving again?” Brit asked as Ethan pulled his cloak around her to keep her warm from the sea breeze and cool night air. The skiff pulled silently from the shore.

“Only for this evening,” Ethan responded. Truth be told, Ethan had not wished to leave the city, but he did not hear of any appropriate ceremonies to take place through Holy Week and had wanted Brit to experience some of Easter’s traditions since he had ensured that she kept to her fast during Lent.

Once on the mainland, they arrived to the church along with the rest in time for the evening ceremony. Ethan was too busy explaining the symbolism of some of the traditions to notice the odd glances they received from the other parishioners. Even in the darkness, he could clearly see Brit as she pressed against him in the crowded church. He whispered translations to her as the priest guided the faithful through the service, including what she was to say when time came for the crowd to answer, and he grinned slightly as she whispered correct responses while struggling to process everything.

Brit was enthralled as light spread throughout the church while each person lit a candle chasing the darkness from the room. The light cast shadows over the icons and walls. Mingled with the joyous responses of Alithós Anésti and Alithinós O Kírios, the end of the service took a more festive feel as the people poured from the doors carrying the lit candles to their homes and, for those transients, into the restaurants in the community.

Entering one of the restaurants, Ethan and Brit were escorted to a side area where both could view the rest of the room. Ethan carefully explained the reason behind so many of the traditions. Taking a red, hard-cooked egg, he gave it to Brit and took another for himself. Ethan explained that cracking the eggs against each other symbolized Christ breaking from the Tomb. He added that the person whose egg lasted the longest without cracking would have good luck the rest of the year.

After Brit’s third cracked egg, smoked salted pork and cheese were served along with assorted special breads and the Magiritsa, which was a creamy soup with a lemony flavor made from lamb sweetmeats. Music started and dancing began. Of course, wine and ouzo poured freely.

Brit nibbled the soup along with some cheese, and dipped bits of bread into it as she watched the dancers. She sipped wine finding the ouzo far too strong for her liking. Ethan enjoyed watching the crowd while telling her the history behind different parts of the meal and the dancing that occurred. He also explained what the people could expect to do on the following day.

As the night continued, Ethan pulled her to him and noticed that she was decidedly glazed from the wine. They had to meet the men with the skiff to return, so Ethan escorted her after paying and walked her toward the docks. Behind them, music grew fainter as they met their transport back to the city. Brit was chatty and feeling no pain. She was also less than steady on her feet, so Ethan picked her up to carry her. Once on the skiff, he settled her on his lap and covered her for the trip back.

As the skiff glided through the water, Brit continued to chatter about the good fortune Ethan would enjoy for the upcoming year having the egg that never cracked. She had fallen asleep by the time they arrived to the city, so Ethan carried his sleeping wife back to his resting place. She was chattered more as she woke when he was undressing her for rest. Her blood laced with the alcohol was not unpleasing to him, and both rested peacefully from sunrise to sunset.

Upon waking, Brit sought the picture of them when carnival had started prior to Lent. Finding it, she turned to Ethan who leaned on an elbow to watch her. She repeated back the events over the last few weeks as they lead to Easter. Ethan took the picture and smiled seeing their carnival masks and clothing. Brit continued to chatter excitedly about his good luck for the next year. He then heard her exclaim, “Ethan. Did you know that your lucky egg was made of wood?” She held it out for him to examine.

Reaching to her, he chuckled as he pulled her to him and took the egg from her without a glance. Placing it to the side along with the photograph, he replied, “Indeed? What a surprise. Regardless…the tradition stands even if someone was kind enough to insure that my luck stays true.”

1 comment:

~ Ethan ~ said...

some things are too important not to godmode they say... wooden eggs FTW! *chuckles and sips mageiritsa*