musical instruments were brought out, and then the singing and dancing began.
‘Who is going to feel like getting up for church tomorrow?’ one of the old uncles called out, laughing raucously as he poured himself another shot of raki.
‘You will!’ his wife said, snatching the bottle away from him, ‘because I’ll be getting you out of bed whether you like it or not.’
Calli, who had learned some of the traditional dances, was able to join in with the women. Linking arms, they danced in a circle to the tune of an old Cretan melody and the intoxicating combination of drums, laouto – lute – and the unmistakable sound of the Cretan lyra. Some dances, Calli knew, could traditionally be performed only by men; one of these was the Pentozali, a very old dance which was said to hark back to ancient times when it had originated as a war dance. According to one myth, it had been performed by the war hero Achilles, who danced around the funeral pyre of Patroclus, his beloved friend and wartime companion. Another story she was told about the dance was that it symbolized the five attempts of Cretans to liberate their island from the Ottomans, hence the dance’s name Pentozali, which translates as ‘five steps’. Calli had always loved these ancient myths and legends, learning about such stories, and as she watched the men follow the intricate steps of the dance with its athletic, acrobatic moves she could easily understand why it should be considered a war dance. The men, standing boldly in a line and holding one another firmly by the shoulders, oozed raw combative masculinity. They stood upright and proud, following the music with intricate foot movements – apparently a warning to the enemy – progressively picking up speed, becoming more hectic as they kept up with the pace of the instruments. Michalis was among the dancers and Calli watched him as he took his turn to move to the front of the line to lead the dance, his limbs and body gyrating to the frenzied rhythm of the music by leaping and jumping in an impossible show of fitness.
Once again, as she stood watching among the other onlookers, Calli felt a sense of belonging, a sense of place. She was filled with gratitude to be able to immerse herself in the joy of the moment, without the niggling sense of responsibility when someone she was with was not having fun. Smiling to herself, she looked across the room at all the faces, young and old, family and strangers, breathed a sigh of relief, and joined in with the rhythmic clapping of the bystanders.
15
‘You put me to shame!’ Calli called out the next day as her aunt opened the garden gate and came towards her. Despite the late night, Froso had got up at her usual hour and made her way to the early morning holy liturgy, as she did every Sunday.
‘Don’t be silly, my girl, you went to bed about the time I got up to go to church,’ her aunt laughed and pulled up a chair to join her. Calli was sitting under the olive trees drinking her first coffee of the day and musing over the previous night’s events.
She had stayed up into the small hours at her cousin’s house, talking and drinking with them and their friends, including Michalis. The musicians had long gone to their beds taking their instruments with them, but Costis brought the CD player into the garden and the party continued. Calli liked all of her cousin’s friends and she willingly agreed to a suggestion that they should meet again the next day. Aside from Michalis and his friend Demitri, it was Katerina and Spyros, a newly married couple with no children as yet, who came up with the idea of a day trip. ‘Let’s take Calli somewhere in your car,’ Katerina proposed, looking pointedly at Michalis, knowing that he had a four-wheel drive and the largest car by far.
‘We can drive up to the hills, maybe up to my village,’ Michalis willingly offered, approving Katerina’s suggestion.
‘We did have a fine time, last night, didn’t we?’ Calli said to her aunt, who had joined her at the table.
‘You enjoyed yourself, eh?’ Froso asked with a mischievous little smile as she handed Calli some koliva wrapped in her white lace handkerchief.
‘I did!’ the young woman replied, reaching for the little bundle. ‘Was there a mnimosino, a memorial service, today?’ she asked as she started to