Notes from Abroad: Nea Moní and Agia Markella

The day after our bus trip, we stayed close to the hotel.  I took a walk in the morning to buy stamps for some postcards, we swam for a little, and then we met with a parishioner and his son who were in Chios, but not involved with the wedding.  Fr G went to the wedding rehearsal, and then our whole family reunited for the rehearsal dinner, at a restaurant in quaint Pantoukios.  Little M danced her heart out, along with many of the other guests.  She met a little friend from Italy, with whom she watched an octopus (Can you spot it in the second picture?) and entertained baby K, the groom's cousin's son.  It was so hot and still! 

Despite the late night, we roused ourselves early the next morning for another bus adventure, this time over the spine of Chios to the western side.  As the bus sped up the mountains on hairpin turns, we could see where the June wildfires had burned much of the land.  Black, charred pine trunks, no undergrowth, and scorched rocks covered the hills.  

We reached Nea Moní at the top of a mountain, where a bit of green still surrounded the buildings.  The fires burned all around the monastery, but did not touch it.  Glory to God!  A gentle monk gave us a tour, telling all of the history through Fr. G's translations.  I imagined all of the feet that have stood in the same place as I did, praying and worshipping over the long years the monastery has stood in this place.  The skulls in the photo above are from the martyrs of the Chios massacre who sought refuge in the monastery.  Two thousand perished at Nea Moní alone.  

Little M will remember most being stung by a hornet, which had flown up her dress.  The kindly monk brought us back into a receiving room and offered Fenistil and ice and cookies for the weeping Little M.  He and Fr G spoke about Orthodoxy in the US while she calmed down.  

We boarded the bus and drove up and over the mountains, then down, down towards the western coast.  At Agia Markella we venerated the icons, left Little M's tama, and partook of the artos left from the feastday.  I have to admit that Agia Markella wasn't what I expected!  It was larger and more casual than what I saw in my imagination.  After refreshments at the nearby beach cafe, we trekked out to the shrine and agiasma, a fifteen minute walk along the beach.  We baked in the sun, and I made frequent pauses to splash the cool sea water on my head and neck.  It was heartbreaking to see the news of the last few weeks; more fires ravaged the area, and many were rescued from the beach at Agia Markella.  The monastery itself wasn't harmed.  As a friend remarked to me with a knowing smile, "Of course it wasn't burned!  Agia Markella protects her church."

Our final stop was the beach at Glaroi, where the wedding guests had gathered for the day.  The bus wound back over the mountains, and plunged down sharp hills toward Chora, and up the coast to Galroi.  I tried not to look down as we travelled, and marveled at the driver's skill in navigating the steep road.  At Glaroi, we gingerly dipped into the chilly, spring-fed water.  Little M, weary after such a long day, snacked on some ice cream before she and I got back on a bus to the hotel.  The boys stayed a little longer with Fr G, having been invited to jump from the roof a yacht anchored just past the beach.  I think that was the highlight of their trip to Chios!