(Although some names and dates have been changed, there are enough clues for those of you who have know the area and the people to make guesses! this took place in about 1990)
I was walking down the road from
Kalamitsi. I had been to the village for the evening but it was very quiet and the kafenion had closed early due to illness in the family. I decided to make
my way home to the little room I was renting.
It was about nine
in the evening and dark when I set out and I had no torch. As I picked my way along the side of the road trying to see the way, a police car pulled up beside me.
The window wound down and the head of a young policeman poked out.
“Where are you
heading?” he asked me.
“Down to
Georgioupolis,” I replied. The head vanished back inside the car as
he consulted with his colleague .
“We’re going
that way. Hop in; you can have a lift with us.”
I was somewhat
taken aback, but decided that I should be safe enough with two local
policemen.
“Thank you,” I
said as I got in. There followed a muttered discussion between the
two policemen, then the younger of the two turned around,
“We just have to
call in to Exopoli on the way down. We have a bit of business to
attend to.”
When we arrived
at Exopoli it became clear they did not know where they were heading.
They stopped the car in the middle of the village and, turning on the
siren and flashing lights, waited until someone came out to
investigate. Having got directions we turned up a steep driveway and
pulled up by some other cars.
“It’s
our friend's name day,” The older police officer told me. “We
have a cake in the back of the car.” Looking behind me I could see
a box with the name of a cake shop emblazoned on it. “We have a bit
of a problem,” he continued, “That car parked in front of us
belongs to our boss. If we go in he will know that we are socializing
when we are on duty.” At that moment the door opened and a figure
approached the car. I recognized a young man, the brother of the friend celebrating his name day, whom I had
met several times in the village kafenion. They explained their
predicament.
“Never mind,”
he told them, “I know Helen. She can come in if she wants to even though you can't.”
After a moment’s
hesitation I got out of the car. I had nothing to rush back for. I
checked my bearings. Where was I? Which direction was home? Having
satisfied myself I knew where I was, I went into the house.
The small room was
crowded with people squashed around a large table, which was groaning
under the weight of large platters containing the traditional
celebratory fare of Crete; pilaffi, boiled chicken, roast lamb, pork,
salad and potatoes.
Much to my relief
I knew several people at the party, including the policemen’s
‘boss’. The only spare seat was next to him. I sat down
accordingly. I was somewhat relieved to see that there were plenty of women and
girls in the company.
The policeman
leaned over and filled up my glass with wine. It was paler than the
usual local wine, a golden colour,
rather than the red more common to the region.
“Cheers.” He
said raising his glass and tapping mine. Drink up, don’t worry, I
will drive you back down the road later,” he announced. The only
thing I was worrying about was being in the car with him after the
copious amounts of wine he was imbibing…
The evening
progressed in the usual manner, food, drink, music, dancing, singing
and gunfire. The main culprit was the policeman who delighted in
startling the women by firing off rounds from his gun out of the open
window.
The policeman I noticed was fully armed andI discovered that
the old chestnut, “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just
pleased to see me?” translated into Greek, went down very well and
caused much merriment amongst the company.
I was to regret
this later when later, in his car as he drove me back down to the
village, he offered to show me exactly what it was that he had in his
pocket!
This photo, by Nikos Kokolakis, shows pretty much where my room was - can you recognize where you are looking and what is there now?
That night, after I
had successfully extricated myself from ‘police custody’, and
escaped to my room I chuckled over my evening. It can’t be many
people who get picked up by the boys in blue and taken to a party. It
could only happen here.
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