from Nike in Katerini, Greece: the classics, a baptism and a survivor

Diotima

June 14. I am steeped in the classics, the Greek classics. Every day I study at least one of the philosophers or the great plays and today my subject was Diotima because I’m working on a small project on the women philosophers of Ancient Greece. Diotima scores a mention today not only because she is part of what is probably the most famous teacher – student chain in history, Diotima taught Socrates, Socrates taught Plato, Plato taught Aristotle and Aristotle taught Alexander the Great – but because, according to Socrates, she delayed the onset of the plague to Athens by ten years. It’s not made clear how, other than by appeasing the gods, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if a woman first taught the principles of care, isolation, hygiene and so on over two and a half thousand years ago.

baptism of Hektor

My study had to be put aside. The garden required serious attention. I scraped back my hair, put on my daggiest, least flattering work gear and worked hard digging and weeding. Any makeup had sweated off and my damp with sweat hair stuck to my head when my little neighbour, Artemis, called out for me to come out of my garden and onto the road.
She had a puppy with her.
‘I want to baptise him,’ she said.
Now, it must be made known, each and every one of Artemis’ dolls has been baptised in our tiny chapel, plus there have been some doll weddings, so it makes sense she’d want her first pet baptised too.
She asked me to be the Nouna, the godmother. So, in the height of my sweaty gardening non-glamour, puppy was baptised in my shiny new red bucket as the baptismal font. He was given the name, Hektor.

the goats arrive

After the baptism I returned to work and soon heard the jingle of goat bells. The shepherds were guiding their herds back from the day’s grazing. It’s such a common sight I didn’t stop to look. I had too much work to do but I caught a glimpse of the shepherd. It was Christo, the snake bite victim of a few weeks ago.
I yelled out to him. ‘Perastika sou.’ The traditional phrase one says to someone who has been through trauma. It means, May it pass.
‘Thank you. Thank you. I’m not well yet but I thought I should start going out again.’

Christo, the snake-bite survivor

He re-enacted the event showing me how his kerchief slipped from his neck and how he bent to retrieve it when the snake struck to bite him on the hand. His hand is still bandaged. ‘I might only lose this finger,’ he says, wiggling it at me before he herded his goats away.