By Elias Liamis, Culture Unit Advisor
November is the month of the first oil. In the countries of the Mediterranean and especially in our land [Greece], in the land where God chose to bless the best oil in the world, this month has always been a period of joy but also of anxiety, as the juice of the olive has always been the determining factor of the well-being of whole communities in the Greek countryside, often exclusively. Who would have thought that a time would come when oil would be considered a luxury item?
In many parts of our country, the olive picking always began with consecration and always ended with the offering of the first pitcher with the new oil to the church. Beginning and ending with the presence of the divine, the picking of olives has always been a mystery, starting with a stick that shakes the olive trees and ending with the taping of the jars, filled with the steaming juice.
In Crete, as soon as the landowner delivered the first oil, the priest would come out and preach from the sacred bema how so-and-so had finished harvesting and whoever wants could go and collect what's left, because the olive groves are free. This harvesting is reminiscent of Papadiamantis' "The Gleaner" or Ruth from the Old Testament. It is an age-old tradition, an idiosyncratic charity, to leave the last fruit on the estate with the olive trees for those who have none.
As for oil, it was never considered exclusively a raw material for food. Respect for it had to do with the sacred light. From the unextinguished wick of the lamp of Pallas of Athens to the oil lamps in the church and the home, light can only be a product of the juice of the olive.
Even today, older growers leave the last branch unpicked. The same happens in the harvest. Let something remain in the land that gave birth to them. The folklorist Alki Kyriakidou-Nestoros recorded the words of a farmer from Filoti, Naxos:
"The earth is like a partridge. The partridge lays 17-18 eggs and you take them all, but you leave 3-4 and she thinks she has them all because of that and continues to lay more. Likewise with the earth, you have to leave something for it to continue to give birth."
The end of the oil harvest was a ceremony. On the famous vase of the olive harvesters of the Minoan era, the head of the sacred procession is depicted holding the sistrum and followed by the rod bearers who shook the olive trees dressed in sheepskin.
Although in many regions the olive picking can even go on as long as March, November was the decisive month for the quantity and quality of the oil. Pomazochtikia, a special celebration of Crete, also belongs to this month. The householder prepares a feast in her house, attended by relatives, friends and all the workers who worked to gather the harvest. Food was cooked with the new oil, even if there was old oil in the pan. It is necessary to prepare the eftazymo ("kneaded seven times" without yeast) oil bread. In other parts of Greece, in similar ceremonies, foods were prepared whose main raw material was oil, in which they even poured it without stinginess so that it would pour forth in more abundance the next year in the house.
The production cycle can be closed with these holidays. But the cycle of customs that begins with the arrival of new life and ends with the return to mother earth never closes. In Cyprus, the first water that the baby will drink will be offered to him in an olive leaf: just as the olive does not thirst, neither will the child. Everywhere the oil will bear the seal of divine mercy in baptism. Elsewhere, olive branches will become a wedding wreath. The hearty farewell will be said with olive branches. In Crete and the Peloponnese, the deceased enters the grave holding an olive branch, a symbol of peace with God but also hope for the emergence of a new life, because the olive tree is the tree that never dies. The trunk dries up but through its dead dry wood a new shoot grows and grows until it becomes a whole tree again. Is this new life or is the old resurrected?
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
Although in many regions the olive picking can even go on as long as March, November was the decisive month for the quantity and quality of the oil. Pomazochtikia, a special celebration of Crete, also belongs to this month. The householder prepares a feast in her house, attended by relatives, friends and all the workers who worked to gather the harvest. Food was cooked with the new oil, even if there was old oil in the pan. It is necessary to prepare the eftazymo ("kneaded seven times" without yeast) oil bread. In other parts of Greece, in similar ceremonies, foods were prepared whose main raw material was oil, in which they even poured it without stinginess so that it would pour forth in more abundance the next year in the house.
The production cycle can be closed with these holidays. But the cycle of customs that begins with the arrival of new life and ends with the return to mother earth never closes. In Cyprus, the first water that the baby will drink will be offered to him in an olive leaf: just as the olive does not thirst, neither will the child. Everywhere the oil will bear the seal of divine mercy in baptism. Elsewhere, olive branches will become a wedding wreath. The hearty farewell will be said with olive branches. In Crete and the Peloponnese, the deceased enters the grave holding an olive branch, a symbol of peace with God but also hope for the emergence of a new life, because the olive tree is the tree that never dies. The trunk dries up but through its dead dry wood a new shoot grows and grows until it becomes a whole tree again. Is this new life or is the old resurrected?
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.