EVRYCHU.
Towards evening we came in sight of Mount Olympus. Water, as clear as
crystal, was trickling down the lower rocks in all directions, and
a delicious breeze blowing from Olympus cooled our weary frames and
raised our drooping spirits as we lay, surveying the scene around us,
upon the banks of a rivulet, completely surrounded by oleander bushes.
Thus refreshed, we continued our way along the course of the stream
under the shade of numerous trees which became more luxuriant and
various as we advanced.
This delightfully wooded valley contrasted well with the bare naked
rocks above. All day I had seen the snowy crest of Mount Olympus
towering above its dark companions, and had imagined that it could only
boast a snowy cap. Now, as it rose before us, clearly distinguishable
from the rocks around, I found that the snowy veil extended far down
its sides and slopes. All true Alpine features are entirely wanting,
and to me there seemed something harsh and unattractive in the bare and
unbroken character of its naked rock.
Whilst it was still light we reached Evrychu. This, the prettiest
and most populous village in Cyprus, is situated in a lovely valley
surrounded by fruitful and luxuriant pastures, whilst above it tower
majestic groups of picturesque mountains. Evrychu lies 1700 feet above
the level of the sea, and contains seven hundred inhabitants; amongst
these, however, not more than a hundred families pay taxes. This
luxuriant valley might readily produce enough to support ten times
the number of people now dwelling there. When we arrived, evening
service was being performed in the church, and it is no exaggeration
to say that the whole of the inhabitants were around its walls, from
the youngest child to the most infirm of its old men and women. This
open-air gathering had a fine and solemn effect. The people themselves
appeared to me to differ in many respects from the short, stout
inhabitants of the coast and plains, who look as though heat and
perspiration had baked the dust and dirt into their skins. The people
of Evrychu, on the contrary, are well grown and finely made, and their
complexions fresh and blooming. Amongst the women and girls I noticed a
great number of pretty faces. There can be no doubt as to the fact that
these people are descended from the old Greek settlers, whilst those
in the open country and on the sea coast are descended from a mixed
race of Italians, Syrians, and Negroes. In the more frequented parts
of the island, traces of successive races were rapidly swept away,
whilst here in the mountain valley the people have for generations
lived comparatively unchanged and undisturbed. My opinions concerning
the descent of the people were strengthened by further observations,
and all along the mountain range I noticed a strong likeness to the
Greeks of several islands in the Archipelago; the type, however, not
being quite so pure (no doubt owing to intermarriage), nor faces and
figures quite so beautiful and slender. As for manners, well would it
be if our awkward English race could imitate the grace with which these
villagers performed the most ordinary act. When we arrived amongst them
the appearance of such an unexpected party might have been supposed
to have created quite a sensation. Nothing of the kind occurred, the
men and women were grouped about, and evidently eyed us with much
curiosity, but no movement betrayed their feelings or ruffled their
respectful politeness. The girls stood at some distance and observed
us as closely, but with graceful dignity. Such natural propriety of
behaviour is very striking in this population, and seems to leave the
impression on the mind, of their having, as we say, “seen better days.”
Their peculiar customs are numerous and interesting; no sooner is a
guest lodged than a woman or girl appears and offers him an apple,
with the most winning grace; this is intended as a hospitable welcome.
If you are given any kind of solid food a napkin is placed over your
knees. A glass of water is presented to you on the open palm of the
hand, and is always accompanied by a good wish, the giver remaining
standing until the glass is returned, when another wish is expressed
that the water may do you good. When you are about to leave, women
and girls appear and throw the leaves of the olive and other fragrant
plants into the fire. The parting guest is expected to go through the
form of smelling these leaves, in token of his bearing away in his mind
a sweet impression of the kindness he has received.
Who could compare our parting act of raising the hat, with the
picturesque obeisance of these villagers, as they laid their hands upon
their hearts and gracefully inclined their bodies towards us as they
wished us farewell.
Whilst I reposed, my indefatigable zaptieh had been exploring the
village and inquiring for its principal inhabitant, for the purpose
of securing lodgings for me at his house. This man, who proved to be
a well-to-do peasant, soon appeared, accompanied by his sons-in-law,
and offered to escort me to his home. The domicile consisted of
three small, one-storied buildings lying close together and standing
in a small court surrounded by stabling and sheds. The principal
attractions of this dwelling were its strong walls and watertight roof,
recommendations possessed by very few other houses in the village,
these latter being generally mere flat-roofed huts, with walls formed
of clay and interlaced branches. The accommodation for the cattle is,
of course, equally rude and simple; everything about these dwellings
is poor except in one respect, namely, their house linen. The excellent
order in which this is always kept, speaks highly for the industry,
housewifery, and skill of the women.
The landlord’s four daughters offered me a hearty reception, and made
it evident by their sparkling eyes and their delighted manner, that
they felt all the pleasure and dignity of hospitality. Everything the
place could offer was at our disposal, and they seemed as if they could
not do enough to make us comfortable. Various members of the family
appeared in turn, in order to be introduced to me, and all, even the
children, conducted themselves with the most unembarrassed courtesy.
The sons-in-law of my host and a young relative, who was the village
schoolmaster, sat down to table with the head of the family and myself,
whilst the daughters waited upon us. Luckily for me I had chanced upon
them just at Easter time, so we were allowed to partake of meat. The
table was ornamented with a great variety of coloured Easter eggs, and
after dinner the “egg-touching” ceremony began, each person offering
the small end of an egg to his neighbour, saying as he did so, “Christ
is risen.” This appeared to be a favourite amusement with the children,
and many eggs were broken by their little hands. I was delighted with
the charming manner in which the youngsters grouped together, and after
the repast was over sang us an Easter hymn.
I cannot refrain from giving my readers the very Grecian names of my
kind entertainers. My host was called Gavril, one of the sons-in-law
was Kleobulas Christophagu Gavrilidis, and the other Socrates. The
schoolmaster was Michel Ivanidas, and the four daughters respectively
Minerva, Terpsichore, Penelope, and Zoisa; another maiden present was
called Evanthia. How can we account for such classic names, if I am not
correct in asserting that these people are the direct descendants of
the early Greeks?
Next morning I was astir at about four o’clock, and walked out into the
fresh and balmy air. A gentle wind was wandering about the mountains,
stirring the waving foliage of the trees, and rippling the bright water
of the streams as it passed. Thrushes and nightingales poured forth
their sweetest melody on all sides, and a delicious perfume was wafted
around from innumerable flowers, and the hedges of myrtle by which the
fields are surrounded. Only one thing was wanting to the scene—where
was the rustling sound of trees on the declivities of the mountains?
As I looked up, the first glance told me the soil was in the highest
degree fitted for their culture, and yet the eye could only discover a
variety of shrubs and mountain plants interspersed with a few blackened
stumps.
When I returned to the village I found the whole population again at
their devotions. In the Eastern Church the worshippers do not attend
to hear sermons and pour out their own prayers and thanksgivings; it
would appear as though even the most earnest worshippers considered
that their mere presence and genuflections during the masses said and
sung by their priest, was all that could be required of them. For more
than a thousand years, no change whatever has taken place in the creed
and liturgy of the Christian Church in the East, and it may, therefore,
be regarded as more closely allied to the Primitive Church than is the
Catholic Church of Rome. With the exception of its bishops, Cyprus has
no active and learned priesthood, and nothing can be simpler than the
life and theology of its country curés. Books they have none, and for
their livelihood have to depend upon the bounty of their flocks. Under
British rule new life will be given to the Christian Church in Cyprus,
and to the education and training of her people.
When we left Evrychu, our host and his sons-in-law, as is the custom
here, accompanied us to the extremity of the village, when they took
their leave.