I've been quite ill, which thank God is not usual for me. I suppose it's just a virus but one of the side effects is that I have lost my voice, and I'm staying away from people in case I pass it on to them. I've been busy sorting out my mother's house, which had a LOT of stuff in it, and trying desperately to find room in our house for the numerous things that I can't see myself using but certainly don't want to throw away - at least, not yet.
Like for instance this weighty red tin box of paints, which came from Kashmir at least around 80 years ago or even more.. The note inside them, written in a relative's handwriting, gives complicated instructions for using them, and says they came from Qasim Bros, Dalgate, Srinagar, Kashmir. The bit of gorgeous broken china is used as a mixing palette. Each pot of pigment is in a tightly sealed bottle in its own tightly sealed brass box, and the white pigment I show is like mother of pearl with lots of different shades.
It's just a little bit like one of those items you find in the attic in a children's magic book. I would like to think I would open one of the canisters and a genie might be inside, instead of a bottle of pigment....
Anyway, I wanted to do another post about Greece - about Tsambikos, a Christian-name which you'll hear a lot in Rhodes (or Tsambika for a girl). In the local dialect, the word apparently means "flicker of light" and it refers to a miraculous ikon which was found, surrounded by candles, on a hillside not far from the village of Lindos. This ikon works various miracles, and in particular it can help women who are trying to conceive.
It's now kept for safety in a larger monastery at the bottom of the hill, but in about 1300 a small church was built at the top of the hill and this is where pilgrims (and, in the season, tourists) come to climb 300 steps to the top. (Women who want to conceive have to climb it on their knees.)
As we were early in the season, we had the hillside almost to ourselves. It's fairly hard work climbing the steps, which are widely spaced and very irregular - quite steep at times, too. So after a bit, I was impressed to look behind me and see this family, with three children and granny, making their way up pretty fast and catching us up. (Granny is lagging behind in this photo).
When we reached the top the landscape opened out to the mountains on one side and the sea on the other.
And we finally made it into the courtyard of the little church, which was painted a dazzling white, spotlessly clean, and very peaceful and welcoming.
The dimness inside is welcome after the brightness and heat outside. The ikons shown below are not particularly miraculous, as I understand, but they are beautiful, with their silver glimmering in the shade, and the little lamps burning. .
The family arrived very soon after we did. They settled down in the shade, and took out their picnic. And (sa I said in the last post) they shared it with us, because we didn't have anything. .
Then the mother took her little daughter into the side chapel and she made the signs of the cross with the oil there on the little girl's cheeks, forehead, hands and other parts of her body - the little girl of course didn't want to stay still. You may be able to see the lacy cloth on the table behind where there are votive offering hanging, but perhaps not - the contrast between dark and light was really dazzling.
On grey days here I like to think about how it felt high up on the hill, in that peaceful church, with the cicadas calling and butterflies fluttering around, and the kind Greek family who shared their food with us.
Like for instance this weighty red tin box of paints, which came from Kashmir at least around 80 years ago or even more.. The note inside them, written in a relative's handwriting, gives complicated instructions for using them, and says they came from Qasim Bros, Dalgate, Srinagar, Kashmir. The bit of gorgeous broken china is used as a mixing palette. Each pot of pigment is in a tightly sealed bottle in its own tightly sealed brass box, and the white pigment I show is like mother of pearl with lots of different shades.
It's just a little bit like one of those items you find in the attic in a children's magic book. I would like to think I would open one of the canisters and a genie might be inside, instead of a bottle of pigment....
Anyway, I wanted to do another post about Greece - about Tsambikos, a Christian-name which you'll hear a lot in Rhodes (or Tsambika for a girl). In the local dialect, the word apparently means "flicker of light" and it refers to a miraculous ikon which was found, surrounded by candles, on a hillside not far from the village of Lindos. This ikon works various miracles, and in particular it can help women who are trying to conceive.
It's now kept for safety in a larger monastery at the bottom of the hill, but in about 1300 a small church was built at the top of the hill and this is where pilgrims (and, in the season, tourists) come to climb 300 steps to the top. (Women who want to conceive have to climb it on their knees.)
As we were early in the season, we had the hillside almost to ourselves. It's fairly hard work climbing the steps, which are widely spaced and very irregular - quite steep at times, too. So after a bit, I was impressed to look behind me and see this family, with three children and granny, making their way up pretty fast and catching us up. (Granny is lagging behind in this photo).
When we reached the top the landscape opened out to the mountains on one side and the sea on the other.
And we finally made it into the courtyard of the little church, which was painted a dazzling white, spotlessly clean, and very peaceful and welcoming.
The dimness inside is welcome after the brightness and heat outside. The ikons shown below are not particularly miraculous, as I understand, but they are beautiful, with their silver glimmering in the shade, and the little lamps burning. .
The family arrived very soon after we did. They settled down in the shade, and took out their picnic. And (sa I said in the last post) they shared it with us, because we didn't have anything. .
Then the mother took her little daughter into the side chapel and she made the signs of the cross with the oil there on the little girl's cheeks, forehead, hands and other parts of her body - the little girl of course didn't want to stay still. You may be able to see the lacy cloth on the table behind where there are votive offering hanging, but perhaps not - the contrast between dark and light was really dazzling.
I think the little girl might have been a Tsambika. Maybe they made a pilgrimage every year to say thank you to God for her. I wish I had asked her mother, now. We stayed there for an hour or two. It was such a delightful place to be, and the children had a great time wandering around , playing and exploring.
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On grey days here I like to think about how it felt high up on the hill, in that peaceful church, with the cicadas calling and butterflies fluttering around, and the kind Greek family who shared their food with us.
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