Postcards from Santorini 8
Today as we drive the road to Thira, I remember a warm, blue-sky day, during our previous trip to Santorini. *As I drove down this narrow, winding road, I could not believe my eyes. Two trees were lying beside the road, their limbs cut off, their seeping, vital fluids forming sticky pools in the dust. Nearby, the bulldozer operator was singing as he worked, oblivious to the carnage he had caused. Saddened, I continued my journey. I could not understand why anyone would do this. This stand of trees, lining a section of the road from Thira to the beach community of Kamari, was one of the last groves of native trees on the island. Over the centuries, agriculture and land development had superceded nature and the few trees that remained were of the domesticated variety.
On my return trip a few hours later, I expected to see the rest of the grove lying in the dust. But to my surprise, all but the two already felled were still standing. Each had a black cloth tied around its trunk and from one of the branches hung a huge white banner, with letters written in red. Bewildered, I parked in a clearing beside the road. There was a truck, the offending bulldozer and about 70 people milling about. I spotted a Greek friend of mine and asked him what was going on. He told me this story:
The man in the bulldozer had been hired to prune the branches that reached over the road, because they impeded the buses that plied this route. Using his own initiative, he decided to cut them down instead, taking care of the problem forever. When some of the villagers realized what he was doing, they angrily dragged the man off his bulldozer and he was nearly lynched on one of the remaining trees. Fortunately, the police arrived in time and took him to jail, for his own protection.
The villagers then tied black bands around the trees, as a sign of mourning for fallen comrades. The banner they tied to the branches, said, "Murder!"
For the next few weeks, 24 hours a day, at least two of the villagers would stand vigil on this spot, mourning their loss and protecting the remaining trees from any further devastation. The trees would sport their black bands for a year.
Go To Page: 1 2
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Mary Ellen Bradshaw's Virtual Journeys topic, please visit the Discussions page.