Post by admin on Jan 30, 2013 19:40:05 GMT 2
I repost here a text from MYSTAGOGY (so it's not mine), for the benefit of Westerners and Orthodox in general. The same text is available on roca.org - in fact, I've used both sources.
An American Pilgrim on Mount Athos
By Mr. M. W. Mansur
Part I
What follows are excerpts from a journal which I kept during a three-week visit to Mt. Athos with a college friend in 1933. I had become interested in Orthodoxy and was anxious to learn more about it. The faith and kindliness of people whom I met there contributed to my embracing the Faith several years later.
July 10. It was quite a rush for us in Saloniki to get to the boat by 6:30 but we might have taken our time because like all Greek boats it didn't leave for yet another half hour. All evening we had a fine view of Mt. Olympus across the bay. This boat, the Psarra, was even less shipshape than one would expect. The hatch wasn't closed and the way the cargo was stowed made the vessel list badly to port. Stacy leant me some golf stockings to put over my trousers to keep fleas from crawling up. We put on extra shirts and sweaters mostly as precaution against the cold, but we hoped it would help more than it did against the fleas. Stacy started the idea of squirting flea powder inside our clothes and that was really efficient. Later in the night we moved below to be warm.
July 11. When I first looked out in the morning I saw the outline of Mt. Athos. It looked exactly like the old prints. The peak was as sharp as a needle and the whole mass rose right up from the sea. As the sun rose it cast a pink light on the summit and gradually we could make out the ravines and wooded areas. Here and there we distinguishd monasteries nestled on the slopes or near the shore. The tranquility was such that we felt we had entered another world. We reached Daphni about six and were taken off in a big rowboat. As soon as we landed we arranged about breakfast and then showed our documents to the police. They were good-natured and let us leave our knapsacks in their quarters. The monk who runs the shop had prepared a table for us in the garden behind the house. It was a lovely spot under the slopes of the ridge. We fared well on tea, two boiled eggs, and bread. Right after breakfast we left for Karyes in hopes of avoiding the heat but found it already hot. For a distance the trail followed the shore and then began circling and turning up to Xeropotamou. The trail itself was about five feet wide and paved with stones, some flat, some not. The whole trip up to Karyes was perfectly lovely. It passed through olive orchards and chestnut woods and through some open spaces. Almost all the way we caught glimpses of the great white peak of Athos. Down below we could always see the blue sea. We passed various kinds of people, monks walking or on mules and men who work for the monasteries.
When we reached Xeroptamou we were so hot that we thought we would inquire about hiring mules. In the courtyard we found a monk who insisted on our going inside and having a cup of coffee. He took us up to one of the most enchanting views I have ever seen. Below was a garden bordered by cypresses and then the slope dropped off steeply into the sapphire sea. Some distance off we could see the peninsula of Longos. Near the window was a table and along each wall was a low settle with a white cloth over it. Everything was spick and span. In a few minutes a boy came in carrying a tray on which were two glasses of water, of ouzo, two cups of Turkish coffee and two plates of red cherry preserve. I didn't expect to care for the coffee and ouzo but they both were delicious. At the same time another monk came in who was the archontaris or host to visitors. We had a jolly time with him. After he found out who we were and where we came from we began talking about the Depression. He was quite dramatic in explaining how now everything was made by machines and that left no work. When we finished he insisted on showing us one or two things in the courtyard. On our walk we met a priest from Piraeus who is spending his vacation here. He told us he was once a watchmaker and wanted to see our watches and know how much they cost.
On top of the divide we could see the water on both sides. Before long we caught sight of the white houses of Karyes with their red tiled roofs all built on a hillside. Beyond the town we saw the Serai [the Russian skete of St. Andrew] which was an imposing mass of white buildings with green domes. Karyes itself had narrow, winding streets with shops run by monks and laymen. We found that the Hiera Koinotes [Holy Synod] would not assemble until four, so we wandered over to the Serai hoping to be invited to lunch. An old man at the gate greeted us by saying, "Do you speak English?" which cheered us up until we found that was all he knew. We gathered from him that everyone was asleep because of the coming vigil. A well dressed, dapper beggar to whom we gave two drachs told us that the Samara was the best restaurant but that was none too good.
At four we went to the office of the Hiera Koinotes. One of the guards took our letter from the Metropolitan and told us to sit down in the hall. While we waited he brought us water and coffee. The guards wear tight fitting caps, white stockings, Greek shoes, breeches, a sash, and braided waistcoat. While we waited we saw the members come in one at a time. As each arrived one of the three guards took coffee to him. It took an hour for us to get our document. It was stamped with the seal in four parts which was sprinkled with sand to dry it.
When we reached Daphni again we hired a boat to take us to Russiko [the Monastery of St. Panteleimon] for seventy-five drachs. The cool ride was refreshing. The large white stone buildings of Russiko looked imposing from the water, though not so picturesque as Xeropotamou. When we landed a Greek policeman brought us to the archontaris, Fr. Haralampi. He unlocked a room for us in a long corridor in one of the buildings which was once used to lodge the many pilgrims from Russia. It was twilight when we arrived and hard to see the exact arrangement of the buildings. The ramps leading up to the courtyard were bordered with flowering oleanders which overhung the balustrades. Farther up the hillside we could see the green domes of the churches. The place was charming and quiet and dignified in that atmosphere. By the time our supper was ready the bells were ringing for the vigil of the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, which was to begin at nine.
As soon as we finished supper Fr. Haralampi put on his cloak and veil and led us up to the church. As we crossed the courtyard we could hear the chanting coming down from the windows. We went up at least five flights of stairs in the dark and at last came to the church. It was so dark inside that we could only see that we were going past monks standing in their stasidia [compartments along the walls containing arm rests and a seat that can be lowered]. He took us to a position where we could see the doors of the iconostasis and follow the service. The choir seemed to be ahead of us and to the right. Big columns in the center of the church made it hard to see, especially when only a few candles were burning, what was the plan of the church. The service began at nine and we arrived about half past. The first part was Vespers with a good many things which are omitted in parish churches. We heard some litanies, then some readings which were done first from one side of the church and then from the other. The service was conducted by a deacon and a priest in gold vestments. They both did things in a very dignified, slow manner. The chanting was deep and impressive.
We left at 11:15 and they had only finished the Little Entrance. Some monks went out for a little air onto the balcony once or twice but the service was never interrupted. When we left the church we made our way down the staircases which were so dimly lighted that we had to grope our way. Outside we could hear the chanting as we went through the courtyard.
July 12. The next morning we got up at seven and Fr. Haralampi brought us bread and tea-black bread, which was rather bitter but good. Then the bells began ringing for the Liturgy at eight. As I crossed the court I saw a monk carrying a long semantron [wooden bar] over his shoulder which he was beating with a mallet. Now that it was light in the church I could see how it was arranged. Outside the doors proper were two rows of stasidia and inside were stasidia around the walls and against the columns. This morning Archimandrite Misail was at the altar in light gold vestments ornamented with red rings. Seven priests, one archdeacon, and two deacons served with him. At the Little Entrance they all came out and stood facing each other in front of the Holy Doors. The archdeacon had a good deep voice and read the Gospel well. The whole service was most impressive. When it came time for communion the monks went up front and kissed the icons. Then they bowed to each side of the church and to the others. What surprised me was that the form should be so dignified and careful when they go through it so much. They all seemed engrossed in what they were doing.
After the Liturgy they went to the dining room. Fr. Haralampi took me in to see them at dinner. They sat on benches. At the farther end of the hall was a table and special seat for the hegoumenos.
Our meals were about the same. We usually had hot vegetable or rice soup, large sardines, fish swimming in cut up vegetables and oil, bread, and cucumber. One time we had a dish of beans in the pod. We eked out breakfast with our nuts and raisins.
The main buildings at Russiko are built around a courtyard with the catholicon [main church] in the middle. Since there are always a few Greek monks part of the service in the catholicon is in Greek. The main Russian church is on the top floor at the north or upper side of the courtyard. On the west side is the bell tower and dining hall. To the south is the entrance through a portico. Outside the portico a ramp goes down to the water and is bordered on each side by pink oleanders. Below the monastery proper is a stone building for pilgrims where we stayed. The monastery has a quiet atmosphere; it is hard to believe there are about 350 monks here.
In the afternoon I went to Vespers in the catholicon. At first I was in a stall where I couldn't see so an old man took me up front. It was strange to hear some of the chanting in the Byzantine style along with the Slavonic. It seemed to cause some confusion even to the monks. The interior of the catholicon, like the cathedral, almost shone with gold. The icons were usually covered with gold or silver.
July 13. After Liturgy this morning Fr. Haralampi gave us dinner and then brought down an extremely nice monk who spoke French. He showed us around and answered all our questions. Before the Revolution there would sometimes be one thousand pilgrims a week around Easter. Now the capital of the monastery has been lost and they all have to work hard to keep going. He said that the singing was better when there were more younger monks to take the soprano parts. All of them work, some in the gardens, some in the offices, some cutting wood. Those who are too old or feeble take turns reading the Psalter for two hours apiece. We saw one old man doing that in a little chapel. In some ways the monastery is like an old man's home where they are all busy and contented.
He took us to the library and introduced us to the librarian who also spoke French. When he told us that most of the books were on religion, he explained that Orthodox monks made that their specialty and didn't pay much attention to science and learning like the Roman Catholic monks. He showed us some leaves from a Gospel in Greek uncials and a work of Gregory the Thelogian which had some gorgeous full-page illustrations. The gold and blue and red were as bright as if they had been applied yesterday. He had Hasluck and Byron but not Riley.
When I mentioned Archbishop Benjamin to the librarian he told me that his secretary who went to the United States with him had once been a Roman Catholic monk who came to Russiko and was so impressed that he became Orthodox. We were told how to distinguish icons of St. Nicholas and St. Sergius. St. Nicholas is always shown wearing vestments.
At about six we packed our things and left. The archontaris showed us the path for fifteen minutes and then said Good bye. It was hard to get a great deal from him because he wasn't naturally talkative and spoke only a little Greek.
Part II
We were anxious to reach the skete of St. Anne because we had a letter of introduction from a Greek priest in Boston to Fr. Joachim, who was living there.
July 16. We were glad to be able to push on in the late afternoon and avoid another night in Dionysiou. The rule is that each monastery will furnish conveyance to the next but not beyond so it looked as if we would have to stop at Agiou Pavlou, but we persuaded the boatman to row us on to Agia Anna, a total distance of an hour. From the water we could see how impossible it would have been to walk over the pass from Agiou Pavlou to Agia Anna. Down at the end of the peninsula the sides of the mountain are very steep and the path has to wind high up. Agiou Pavlou set back from the water on one side of a steep ravine. Its tower and battlements made it look like a castle.
In one place an arm of rock ran out from the cliffs and formed an arch like a flying buttress. We rowed under it and could see a cave farther underneath the cliff. As soon as we landed we took our packs a little way back along the shore and went in for a swim. Here the bottom sloped off gently and made an ideal place. The water was just cool enough. The houses of the skete were perched high up on the sides of a ravine and the path up to them was rocky and poorly maintained. By the time we reached the lowest house the sun had set. We stopped at one house to inquire the way and man insisted that we stay a few minutes. He stopped irrigating his garden and gave us a glyko (a sweet) and some delicious loquat preserve. We ate it on his parch and admired the sunset. Then he showed us the way to Fr. Joachim's. The path was like a flight of stairs.
We arrived at nine and were most hospitably received. Fr. Joachim turned out to be thirty-seven years old and had been a priest in the United States till two years ago when he was threatened with tuberculosis and advised to come here. He has decided to stay permanently.
We had a most interesting conversation with him on the porch while Fr. Paisios scrambled some eggs for us American-style. A skete is a collection of small houses in which are from one to five or six monks. Nearly every house has a chapel and a priest. Monks who are in houses where there is no priest go to the main church for service. In each house there is an elder, the senior monk who has charge of the house and has absolute authority. He tells the others how many services there will be, how long they can read, whether they can answer letters. The elder is not necessarily a priest. The whole skete is presided over by a dikaios who is elected each year. If any one wants to join a house he must be taken in by the leader, who tries to find people who will be congenial and persuade them to come. There are four monks in this house, all of whom have been in America. They have fixed up the place with a sun porch, comfortable sitting room, and a new cistern so that their neighbors refer to it as the American consulate and tell them that they must get a car soon.
There are several classes of monks on the Mountain. First come those in monasteries who are considered the lowest because their life is easiest. Then come those in sketes, then those in kellia, then those in detached kalyvai (huts), and finally the hermits, who live in caves. There is a small class of monks who count as the very lowest, those who have business of their own, like the man who runs the motorboat at Daphni. Sometimes a man changes to a stricter class but it is not considered right to change to an easier class. The hermits live an incredibly vigorous life. There are two Russians, one of whom was a prince, who live on bread and water. Once the Russians tried to persuade him to go back and be a metropolitan but he wouldn't. One of these hermits, St. Maximus, is said to have flown down from the top of Mt. Athos. The hermits keep wholly to themselves and people know little about them. Sometimes they won't come out when called. Monks who live in sketes cannot raise all they need and have to buy supplies for the winter. For this reason, each one has to have an income of about 4000 drachmas ($32) if he is to support himself adequately. Most of them get by with 2000 or 3000. Goods are cheaper for the monks because they don't have to pay duties or taxes. The monasteries vary in wealth. Vatopedi is very rich and the monks live like princes. The Lavra and Iveron also are well off.
Before long our supper was ready, and it was delicious. We had eggs scrambled with cheese, boiled eggs, cheese, and apricots. It was the best meal we have had on the Mountain. When visitors come or on a feast day they have more things to eat. During the winter they live on stored food because for much of the time the snow makes it impossible for them to get out.
July 17. Slept late and had a fine breakfast of more scrambled eggs and hot cakes with sugar syrup. Fr. Joachim apologized that they had run out of honey two weeks ago. Then we looked over the estate. They have some land to one side and below the house, which is all turned into garden. It is on a slope of fifty degrees or so and divided into terraces. The soil is so stony that I don't see how things grow, but there is almost everything conceivable there and all flourishing. The garden gets lots of sun and can be well irrigated. We saw cucumbers, beans, corn, squash, tomatoes, onions, olive trees, figs, apricots and things I have forgotten. The house has a wonderful lookout. The slope is so steep that from my chair I can't see the foot of it, only the water. The houses are perched on the side as in an Alpine village.
In the afternoon we slept as usual to avoid the heat and towards six went down to the main church. On our way we passed a little cemetery with only a few crosses on it. Near the railing on the wall was a basket with the skull and bones of a monk who had died three years ago and had been dug up. His name and the place where he lived and the date of his death were written on the skull. The monks are dug up after three years and their bones exposed that way for a week. Then they are put in a chamber nearby. We looked in and saw quantities of skulls and bones.
Fr. Joachim wants to join us and visit all the other monasteries but the elder doesn't want him to be away so long. They are expecting a young fellow whom he knows who will come here for three years and then if the elder wants to take him he can stay permanently. It will be all right, however, for Fr. Joachim to come to the Lavra with us. He says that the elder wants him to stay here and doesn't want him to be attracted elsewhere. Whenever one of the family leaves the house or comes back he kisses the elder's feet and his right hand.
At the main church we were received in the guest room of the dikaios and given water and masticha. Then he took us to the church and brought out its principal relic, the foot of St. Anna, in a silver case. The relics are usually kept on or near the altar and are brought out by the priest to be shown to visitors. Unless you have some one well known with you they are rather hard to see. In the church was a large icon of St. Anna. Fr. Joachim and the others said she didn't allow her face to be photographed and wanted us to try. Although the face was dark and in the shadow we made a try but doubt if it will come out. On the way back we stopped at a friend of Fr. Joachim's who is a deacon and paints icons. He gave us water and a sweet paste made from masticha. When we got back to the house we photographed it and all the people thoroughly. We got Fr. Paisios, whom we call the gardener in chief, in his garden and hope we caught Fr. Grigorious, the elder, with his smile.
July 18. We had a good sleep after lunch and started down with our packs around four. We hope this is our last portage. Two monks, a father and son, joined us for the trip to the Lavra. Fr. Joachim had arranged for a boat to take us all for two hundred drachmas. As we went around the end of the peninsula we saw kalyvai (huts) perched on the cliffs like nests. Some of them could get supplies from boats by letting down ropes and the only other communication was by ladders up the face of the cliff. Further on we saw the mouths of caves where hermits lived. All the way along there was hardly a spot where a boat could land, the cliffs were so steep. At Kapsokalyvia we stopped to leave a few newspapers and took on two men who had had themselves put ashore there in the morning because they were afraid of the heavy sea. We couldn't beach the boat but anchored a few yards out and monks who had turned up their trousers carried the passengers to the boat on their backs. The scenery was magnificent all the way around.
... continued from part two.
July 18. On the way up from the arsenal and the sheltered landing at the Lavra, we stopped at a shrine where St. Athanasius is said to have hurt his leg while carrying wood to the monastery. They told us how the devils used to tear down the stones which he laid during the daytime when building the monastery, until he served the Liturgy, which drove them away.
We reached the Lavra about seven in the evening on the day of the feast of St. Athanasius. A great many monks and visitors crowded around the porch at the entrance. Some had brought wood carvings to sell so the feast was a combination of religious festival and fair, as in the Middle Ages. Fr. Joachim knew a great many people. We found that all the rooms were taken but he arranged to have us put up. He has influence through a friend of his who is the doctor and an epitropos.
People were sitting on all the benches and walking about the courtyard. We visited the doctor in his room and a monk brought in masticha, water, and preserved cherries for us. Fr. Joachim arranged for us to have mules when we wanted to leave and found that we would be able to see everything here. Since he didn't have a letter, we had to eat separately. Stacy and I went to the synod-room and had more liqueur and delicious cherries. People gathered in the hall upstairs and about 9:30, when all had arrived, the two bishops led the way to the dining room below. We all sat at a long table with the bishops at the head. We each had five plates piled on top of each other with knife and fork which we kept for each course. Wine was plentiful. The monks waited on table and served first cut up tomatoes and herring, then two fish courses, then beans, and last preserved pears. After dinner there were short speeches and singing in between. We weren't through until 11:15. Because of the number of people we had to sleep in separate rooms.
July 19. This morning I was waked up at 5:30 along with everybody else for the Liturgy. When I got to the church they were still doing the prothesis. A monk told me to take a stasidion in the very middle of the nave right in front of the Holy Doors where I saw everything. The Bishop of Tripolis was the principal officiant. He was wearing a sakkos of green and gold, an omophorion of white satin and gold, and carried an enameled crosier. With him served ten priests, some in red and gold, others in blue and gold, as well as five deacons. The color and pageantry were magnificent. At the Little Entrance four acolytes carried silver candlesticks in front and behind them came two deacons carrying the Gospels. The cover of the Gospels was of blue enamel set in silver and had five medallions on it. Instead of a curtain behind the Holy Doors was a gorgeous piece of pink and gold embroidery which could be raised and lowered. In front of the large icon of the Virgin and Child was a cloth of gold embroidery which was part of the trappings of Ali Pasha's horse. There were innumerable old Byzantine icons, especially in the sanctuary, the walls of which were lined with them. At the end of the Liturgy two monks brought in a great cake made of sugar, barley, and walnuts which had the design of the Byzantine eagle on it surrounded by an intricate border. There were two of these cakes, each about three feet in diameter. The second cake was decorated with a design of interlacing shields. One was blessed for St. Athanasius and the other in memory of the dead monks of the monastery. After the service the monks gave scoopfuls of the cake to the people outside. We had some and found it delicious.
I met Stacy and Fr. Joachim after the Liturgy and we took a look at the trapeza where the second class guests eat. They were all sitting at tables in a big hall eating soup and beans while a monk read aloud. After that we found the house where the library and treasures are kept was open, so over we went. In one room cabinets stood around the walls with treasures whose value couldn't be estimated. We saw the silver and gold miter of the Emperor Nikephoros, other miters of gold embroidery, two cibolia which looked like small churches, silver censers, jeweled and carved crosses. In another cabinet were Bibles. One was in a gold case with a long figure in relief on the cover. They opened this and it turned out to be a Gospel in uncials. Another Gospels was two feet high with painted enamel medallions, a gift of Catherine the Great. There were innumerable sets of vestments. Some of the orarions and epitrachelions had faces of saints embroidered on them in intricate detail. We saw a sakkos of gold cloth presented by the Emperor Nikephoros, which is worn only by the Patriarch when he visits the monastery. In the library we saw a Gospels in beautiful minuscules with many miniatures and decorations which the monks were thumbing over and examining with a magnifying glass. The books were all exposed on the shelves and no particular care was taken to guard them.
From there we went back to the church to see the relics. In front of the Holy Doors was a stand on which they put the reliquaries. An old man behind me showed me how to stand with hands folded in front. I nudged Stacy to show him but he kept his hands firmly behind his back. He told me later that he thought I was warning him to watch his pocketbook in the crowd. The best reliquary was a gold box studded with big precious stones to keep a piece of the Cross. Besides this we saw the hand of St. Andrew and of St. John Chrysostom and the head of St. Basil. We have decided that here on Athos they have a good chance of being genuine.
In the afternoon we lay down under the trees outside the monastery. Had a fine view of the sea and of the monastery. We walked down to the boat with Fr. Joachim and saw him off. He has been awfully good to us.
At dinner we were honored by having places near the bishop. What a meal! Six courses as follows: 1. tomato and greens; 2. onion and octopus; 3. mallow; 4. fried potatoes; 5. rice and octopus; 6. pears. The octopus has a pink flesh with a nice, delicate flavor. The tentacles, strange to say, are also good and tender.
July 20. For climbing Mt. Athos, Fr. Joachim arranged to have a servant of the monastery go with us. We got up about five and arranged one pack. Stacy believed in laying in a good quantity of the bread for the three-hours' walk but found after a little while that it turned into lead.
We started at 6:30 and followed a paved mule path which had smooth stones and ridges every yard or two which made walking unpleasant, especially on the upgrade. This lasted nearly an hour before we struck a stony dirt path. At first we went through low scrubby growth and gradually worked up to the level of larger trees like oaks, pines, and nut trees. Below us we saw the Romanian Skete of the Prodromos which was so white and clean that it might just have been built. At one point we saw a bright orange cliff which seemed to have been sliced off by the September earthquake. At Russiko they had told us that it happened during the vigil service for the Elevation of the Cross and the service went on without interruption although you could see the building sway.
We reached Kerasia by 9:30 and Euthymios, our guide, took us to a monk's house where there were mules. He brought out coffee and loukoumi and asked our nationality. When we came to the subject of the mules, he said he wanted 300 drachmas, that was what everybody paid. Luckily Fr. Joachim had told us not to give more than 200. While the argument was going on he gave us two cucumbers and said there were no other mules in the village. When we started to leave to look around he came down to 200. Later on top of the mountain we realized that we hadn't the cucumbers.
Going down to the village we saw other mules. Found a small Russian kellia consisting of church dormitory, and gardens. After looking at the church we were taken to the reception room and given masticha. We both find masticha quite strong especially when you are expected to drink it right down. When possible we pour it over the window sill or down a sink, but here the elder was with us so we drank part of it and left the rest. When he saw we had left some he went over to Stacy and held his glass to his mouth and literally poured it down. Then he saw that I finished mine.
We had two good mules with wooden saddles and thick blankets over them. It was a hard, stony trail up the mountain and we had to be careful to avoid bruising our legs against the rocks. Stacy preferred riding side saddle like may Greeks, but I found it more comfortable and secure to be astride. The slope of the mountain is so steep that we had wonderful views of the sea below. We dismounted at one spot and walked to the edge of a cliff from which we could jump off and land in St. Anne's. The mule boy said we were to walk from there, that it would take only a quarter of an hour. Since there were clouds just above us we couldn't tell but what that was the case. However, after climbing twenty minutes or so the clouds cleared and we saw the summit high above us. We had a hard hour's climb before we reached it. Though clouds were coming and going we had chances to make out monasteries below and look across the blue Aegean to Thasos, Samothrace, and Imbrose. On good days, we were told, it is possible to see Constantinople and Athens.
July 21. After spending the night at the Russian house in Kerasia we set off early in the morning. The walk was cool and easy. If we had had time we would have gone down to Kapsokalyvia where they are said to make wood carvings and good icons. Lavra looked like a castle with its tower as we approached it, and was certainly built to be defended. The courtyard is much more spacious than in any other monastery we have seen. The catholicon [main church] is in the middle and the other buildings straggle around it in irregular fashion.
We are glad to hear that a motor boat will be leaving for Iveron and that we shan't have to make the trip on mules. The boat was said to be leaving at noon but now it looks more like four or five. The time on the Mountain has confused us. They follow the Byzantine system which is a variation of the old Roman system. The day is supposed to start with sunrise and end with sunset. This would mean changing the length of the hours if they were accurate but time means so little here that they simply add an hour or two to the day in summer and subtract them in winter. Generally 8 AM is 12 for them, although at Lavra 6 AM was 12. We run on Saloniki time.
When it came time to leave we saw all the epitropoi and the hegoumenos come to the porch to say good-bye to the bishop. They would bow down and touch the ground, then kiss his hand. We walked down to the arsenal ahead of the others and had our packs taken by mule. On the way we had to pass a lot of mules which was a problem because the path was narrow and walled on both sides. We went gingerly hoping not to be kicked. We wanted to wait and watch the bishop get by.
As usual a good many people turned up to go in the boat. All the monks had umbrellas to keep off the hot sun. The bishop's deacon seemed to mind the swell and kept smelling a lemon. We passed Karakallou and Philotheou, both of which were set well back from the shore. One monk pointed out a tower with a small house adjoining where Patriarch Joachim stayed for some time. I gathered that he had had to flee from Turkey.
An American Pilgrim on Mount Athos
By Mr. M. W. Mansur
Part I
What follows are excerpts from a journal which I kept during a three-week visit to Mt. Athos with a college friend in 1933. I had become interested in Orthodoxy and was anxious to learn more about it. The faith and kindliness of people whom I met there contributed to my embracing the Faith several years later.
July 10. It was quite a rush for us in Saloniki to get to the boat by 6:30 but we might have taken our time because like all Greek boats it didn't leave for yet another half hour. All evening we had a fine view of Mt. Olympus across the bay. This boat, the Psarra, was even less shipshape than one would expect. The hatch wasn't closed and the way the cargo was stowed made the vessel list badly to port. Stacy leant me some golf stockings to put over my trousers to keep fleas from crawling up. We put on extra shirts and sweaters mostly as precaution against the cold, but we hoped it would help more than it did against the fleas. Stacy started the idea of squirting flea powder inside our clothes and that was really efficient. Later in the night we moved below to be warm.
July 11. When I first looked out in the morning I saw the outline of Mt. Athos. It looked exactly like the old prints. The peak was as sharp as a needle and the whole mass rose right up from the sea. As the sun rose it cast a pink light on the summit and gradually we could make out the ravines and wooded areas. Here and there we distinguishd monasteries nestled on the slopes or near the shore. The tranquility was such that we felt we had entered another world. We reached Daphni about six and were taken off in a big rowboat. As soon as we landed we arranged about breakfast and then showed our documents to the police. They were good-natured and let us leave our knapsacks in their quarters. The monk who runs the shop had prepared a table for us in the garden behind the house. It was a lovely spot under the slopes of the ridge. We fared well on tea, two boiled eggs, and bread. Right after breakfast we left for Karyes in hopes of avoiding the heat but found it already hot. For a distance the trail followed the shore and then began circling and turning up to Xeropotamou. The trail itself was about five feet wide and paved with stones, some flat, some not. The whole trip up to Karyes was perfectly lovely. It passed through olive orchards and chestnut woods and through some open spaces. Almost all the way we caught glimpses of the great white peak of Athos. Down below we could always see the blue sea. We passed various kinds of people, monks walking or on mules and men who work for the monasteries.
When we reached Xeroptamou we were so hot that we thought we would inquire about hiring mules. In the courtyard we found a monk who insisted on our going inside and having a cup of coffee. He took us up to one of the most enchanting views I have ever seen. Below was a garden bordered by cypresses and then the slope dropped off steeply into the sapphire sea. Some distance off we could see the peninsula of Longos. Near the window was a table and along each wall was a low settle with a white cloth over it. Everything was spick and span. In a few minutes a boy came in carrying a tray on which were two glasses of water, of ouzo, two cups of Turkish coffee and two plates of red cherry preserve. I didn't expect to care for the coffee and ouzo but they both were delicious. At the same time another monk came in who was the archontaris or host to visitors. We had a jolly time with him. After he found out who we were and where we came from we began talking about the Depression. He was quite dramatic in explaining how now everything was made by machines and that left no work. When we finished he insisted on showing us one or two things in the courtyard. On our walk we met a priest from Piraeus who is spending his vacation here. He told us he was once a watchmaker and wanted to see our watches and know how much they cost.
On top of the divide we could see the water on both sides. Before long we caught sight of the white houses of Karyes with their red tiled roofs all built on a hillside. Beyond the town we saw the Serai [the Russian skete of St. Andrew] which was an imposing mass of white buildings with green domes. Karyes itself had narrow, winding streets with shops run by monks and laymen. We found that the Hiera Koinotes [Holy Synod] would not assemble until four, so we wandered over to the Serai hoping to be invited to lunch. An old man at the gate greeted us by saying, "Do you speak English?" which cheered us up until we found that was all he knew. We gathered from him that everyone was asleep because of the coming vigil. A well dressed, dapper beggar to whom we gave two drachs told us that the Samara was the best restaurant but that was none too good.
At four we went to the office of the Hiera Koinotes. One of the guards took our letter from the Metropolitan and told us to sit down in the hall. While we waited he brought us water and coffee. The guards wear tight fitting caps, white stockings, Greek shoes, breeches, a sash, and braided waistcoat. While we waited we saw the members come in one at a time. As each arrived one of the three guards took coffee to him. It took an hour for us to get our document. It was stamped with the seal in four parts which was sprinkled with sand to dry it.
When we reached Daphni again we hired a boat to take us to Russiko [the Monastery of St. Panteleimon] for seventy-five drachs. The cool ride was refreshing. The large white stone buildings of Russiko looked imposing from the water, though not so picturesque as Xeropotamou. When we landed a Greek policeman brought us to the archontaris, Fr. Haralampi. He unlocked a room for us in a long corridor in one of the buildings which was once used to lodge the many pilgrims from Russia. It was twilight when we arrived and hard to see the exact arrangement of the buildings. The ramps leading up to the courtyard were bordered with flowering oleanders which overhung the balustrades. Farther up the hillside we could see the green domes of the churches. The place was charming and quiet and dignified in that atmosphere. By the time our supper was ready the bells were ringing for the vigil of the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, which was to begin at nine.
As soon as we finished supper Fr. Haralampi put on his cloak and veil and led us up to the church. As we crossed the courtyard we could hear the chanting coming down from the windows. We went up at least five flights of stairs in the dark and at last came to the church. It was so dark inside that we could only see that we were going past monks standing in their stasidia [compartments along the walls containing arm rests and a seat that can be lowered]. He took us to a position where we could see the doors of the iconostasis and follow the service. The choir seemed to be ahead of us and to the right. Big columns in the center of the church made it hard to see, especially when only a few candles were burning, what was the plan of the church. The service began at nine and we arrived about half past. The first part was Vespers with a good many things which are omitted in parish churches. We heard some litanies, then some readings which were done first from one side of the church and then from the other. The service was conducted by a deacon and a priest in gold vestments. They both did things in a very dignified, slow manner. The chanting was deep and impressive.
We left at 11:15 and they had only finished the Little Entrance. Some monks went out for a little air onto the balcony once or twice but the service was never interrupted. When we left the church we made our way down the staircases which were so dimly lighted that we had to grope our way. Outside we could hear the chanting as we went through the courtyard.
July 12. The next morning we got up at seven and Fr. Haralampi brought us bread and tea-black bread, which was rather bitter but good. Then the bells began ringing for the Liturgy at eight. As I crossed the court I saw a monk carrying a long semantron [wooden bar] over his shoulder which he was beating with a mallet. Now that it was light in the church I could see how it was arranged. Outside the doors proper were two rows of stasidia and inside were stasidia around the walls and against the columns. This morning Archimandrite Misail was at the altar in light gold vestments ornamented with red rings. Seven priests, one archdeacon, and two deacons served with him. At the Little Entrance they all came out and stood facing each other in front of the Holy Doors. The archdeacon had a good deep voice and read the Gospel well. The whole service was most impressive. When it came time for communion the monks went up front and kissed the icons. Then they bowed to each side of the church and to the others. What surprised me was that the form should be so dignified and careful when they go through it so much. They all seemed engrossed in what they were doing.
After the Liturgy they went to the dining room. Fr. Haralampi took me in to see them at dinner. They sat on benches. At the farther end of the hall was a table and special seat for the hegoumenos.
Our meals were about the same. We usually had hot vegetable or rice soup, large sardines, fish swimming in cut up vegetables and oil, bread, and cucumber. One time we had a dish of beans in the pod. We eked out breakfast with our nuts and raisins.
The main buildings at Russiko are built around a courtyard with the catholicon [main church] in the middle. Since there are always a few Greek monks part of the service in the catholicon is in Greek. The main Russian church is on the top floor at the north or upper side of the courtyard. On the west side is the bell tower and dining hall. To the south is the entrance through a portico. Outside the portico a ramp goes down to the water and is bordered on each side by pink oleanders. Below the monastery proper is a stone building for pilgrims where we stayed. The monastery has a quiet atmosphere; it is hard to believe there are about 350 monks here.
In the afternoon I went to Vespers in the catholicon. At first I was in a stall where I couldn't see so an old man took me up front. It was strange to hear some of the chanting in the Byzantine style along with the Slavonic. It seemed to cause some confusion even to the monks. The interior of the catholicon, like the cathedral, almost shone with gold. The icons were usually covered with gold or silver.
July 13. After Liturgy this morning Fr. Haralampi gave us dinner and then brought down an extremely nice monk who spoke French. He showed us around and answered all our questions. Before the Revolution there would sometimes be one thousand pilgrims a week around Easter. Now the capital of the monastery has been lost and they all have to work hard to keep going. He said that the singing was better when there were more younger monks to take the soprano parts. All of them work, some in the gardens, some in the offices, some cutting wood. Those who are too old or feeble take turns reading the Psalter for two hours apiece. We saw one old man doing that in a little chapel. In some ways the monastery is like an old man's home where they are all busy and contented.
He took us to the library and introduced us to the librarian who also spoke French. When he told us that most of the books were on religion, he explained that Orthodox monks made that their specialty and didn't pay much attention to science and learning like the Roman Catholic monks. He showed us some leaves from a Gospel in Greek uncials and a work of Gregory the Thelogian which had some gorgeous full-page illustrations. The gold and blue and red were as bright as if they had been applied yesterday. He had Hasluck and Byron but not Riley.
When I mentioned Archbishop Benjamin to the librarian he told me that his secretary who went to the United States with him had once been a Roman Catholic monk who came to Russiko and was so impressed that he became Orthodox. We were told how to distinguish icons of St. Nicholas and St. Sergius. St. Nicholas is always shown wearing vestments.
At about six we packed our things and left. The archontaris showed us the path for fifteen minutes and then said Good bye. It was hard to get a great deal from him because he wasn't naturally talkative and spoke only a little Greek.
Part II
We were anxious to reach the skete of St. Anne because we had a letter of introduction from a Greek priest in Boston to Fr. Joachim, who was living there.
July 16. We were glad to be able to push on in the late afternoon and avoid another night in Dionysiou. The rule is that each monastery will furnish conveyance to the next but not beyond so it looked as if we would have to stop at Agiou Pavlou, but we persuaded the boatman to row us on to Agia Anna, a total distance of an hour. From the water we could see how impossible it would have been to walk over the pass from Agiou Pavlou to Agia Anna. Down at the end of the peninsula the sides of the mountain are very steep and the path has to wind high up. Agiou Pavlou set back from the water on one side of a steep ravine. Its tower and battlements made it look like a castle.
In one place an arm of rock ran out from the cliffs and formed an arch like a flying buttress. We rowed under it and could see a cave farther underneath the cliff. As soon as we landed we took our packs a little way back along the shore and went in for a swim. Here the bottom sloped off gently and made an ideal place. The water was just cool enough. The houses of the skete were perched high up on the sides of a ravine and the path up to them was rocky and poorly maintained. By the time we reached the lowest house the sun had set. We stopped at one house to inquire the way and man insisted that we stay a few minutes. He stopped irrigating his garden and gave us a glyko (a sweet) and some delicious loquat preserve. We ate it on his parch and admired the sunset. Then he showed us the way to Fr. Joachim's. The path was like a flight of stairs.
We arrived at nine and were most hospitably received. Fr. Joachim turned out to be thirty-seven years old and had been a priest in the United States till two years ago when he was threatened with tuberculosis and advised to come here. He has decided to stay permanently.
We had a most interesting conversation with him on the porch while Fr. Paisios scrambled some eggs for us American-style. A skete is a collection of small houses in which are from one to five or six monks. Nearly every house has a chapel and a priest. Monks who are in houses where there is no priest go to the main church for service. In each house there is an elder, the senior monk who has charge of the house and has absolute authority. He tells the others how many services there will be, how long they can read, whether they can answer letters. The elder is not necessarily a priest. The whole skete is presided over by a dikaios who is elected each year. If any one wants to join a house he must be taken in by the leader, who tries to find people who will be congenial and persuade them to come. There are four monks in this house, all of whom have been in America. They have fixed up the place with a sun porch, comfortable sitting room, and a new cistern so that their neighbors refer to it as the American consulate and tell them that they must get a car soon.
There are several classes of monks on the Mountain. First come those in monasteries who are considered the lowest because their life is easiest. Then come those in sketes, then those in kellia, then those in detached kalyvai (huts), and finally the hermits, who live in caves. There is a small class of monks who count as the very lowest, those who have business of their own, like the man who runs the motorboat at Daphni. Sometimes a man changes to a stricter class but it is not considered right to change to an easier class. The hermits live an incredibly vigorous life. There are two Russians, one of whom was a prince, who live on bread and water. Once the Russians tried to persuade him to go back and be a metropolitan but he wouldn't. One of these hermits, St. Maximus, is said to have flown down from the top of Mt. Athos. The hermits keep wholly to themselves and people know little about them. Sometimes they won't come out when called. Monks who live in sketes cannot raise all they need and have to buy supplies for the winter. For this reason, each one has to have an income of about 4000 drachmas ($32) if he is to support himself adequately. Most of them get by with 2000 or 3000. Goods are cheaper for the monks because they don't have to pay duties or taxes. The monasteries vary in wealth. Vatopedi is very rich and the monks live like princes. The Lavra and Iveron also are well off.
Before long our supper was ready, and it was delicious. We had eggs scrambled with cheese, boiled eggs, cheese, and apricots. It was the best meal we have had on the Mountain. When visitors come or on a feast day they have more things to eat. During the winter they live on stored food because for much of the time the snow makes it impossible for them to get out.
July 17. Slept late and had a fine breakfast of more scrambled eggs and hot cakes with sugar syrup. Fr. Joachim apologized that they had run out of honey two weeks ago. Then we looked over the estate. They have some land to one side and below the house, which is all turned into garden. It is on a slope of fifty degrees or so and divided into terraces. The soil is so stony that I don't see how things grow, but there is almost everything conceivable there and all flourishing. The garden gets lots of sun and can be well irrigated. We saw cucumbers, beans, corn, squash, tomatoes, onions, olive trees, figs, apricots and things I have forgotten. The house has a wonderful lookout. The slope is so steep that from my chair I can't see the foot of it, only the water. The houses are perched on the side as in an Alpine village.
In the afternoon we slept as usual to avoid the heat and towards six went down to the main church. On our way we passed a little cemetery with only a few crosses on it. Near the railing on the wall was a basket with the skull and bones of a monk who had died three years ago and had been dug up. His name and the place where he lived and the date of his death were written on the skull. The monks are dug up after three years and their bones exposed that way for a week. Then they are put in a chamber nearby. We looked in and saw quantities of skulls and bones.
Fr. Joachim wants to join us and visit all the other monasteries but the elder doesn't want him to be away so long. They are expecting a young fellow whom he knows who will come here for three years and then if the elder wants to take him he can stay permanently. It will be all right, however, for Fr. Joachim to come to the Lavra with us. He says that the elder wants him to stay here and doesn't want him to be attracted elsewhere. Whenever one of the family leaves the house or comes back he kisses the elder's feet and his right hand.
At the main church we were received in the guest room of the dikaios and given water and masticha. Then he took us to the church and brought out its principal relic, the foot of St. Anna, in a silver case. The relics are usually kept on or near the altar and are brought out by the priest to be shown to visitors. Unless you have some one well known with you they are rather hard to see. In the church was a large icon of St. Anna. Fr. Joachim and the others said she didn't allow her face to be photographed and wanted us to try. Although the face was dark and in the shadow we made a try but doubt if it will come out. On the way back we stopped at a friend of Fr. Joachim's who is a deacon and paints icons. He gave us water and a sweet paste made from masticha. When we got back to the house we photographed it and all the people thoroughly. We got Fr. Paisios, whom we call the gardener in chief, in his garden and hope we caught Fr. Grigorious, the elder, with his smile.
July 18. We had a good sleep after lunch and started down with our packs around four. We hope this is our last portage. Two monks, a father and son, joined us for the trip to the Lavra. Fr. Joachim had arranged for a boat to take us all for two hundred drachmas. As we went around the end of the peninsula we saw kalyvai (huts) perched on the cliffs like nests. Some of them could get supplies from boats by letting down ropes and the only other communication was by ladders up the face of the cliff. Further on we saw the mouths of caves where hermits lived. All the way along there was hardly a spot where a boat could land, the cliffs were so steep. At Kapsokalyvia we stopped to leave a few newspapers and took on two men who had had themselves put ashore there in the morning because they were afraid of the heavy sea. We couldn't beach the boat but anchored a few yards out and monks who had turned up their trousers carried the passengers to the boat on their backs. The scenery was magnificent all the way around.
... continued from part two.
July 18. On the way up from the arsenal and the sheltered landing at the Lavra, we stopped at a shrine where St. Athanasius is said to have hurt his leg while carrying wood to the monastery. They told us how the devils used to tear down the stones which he laid during the daytime when building the monastery, until he served the Liturgy, which drove them away.
We reached the Lavra about seven in the evening on the day of the feast of St. Athanasius. A great many monks and visitors crowded around the porch at the entrance. Some had brought wood carvings to sell so the feast was a combination of religious festival and fair, as in the Middle Ages. Fr. Joachim knew a great many people. We found that all the rooms were taken but he arranged to have us put up. He has influence through a friend of his who is the doctor and an epitropos.
People were sitting on all the benches and walking about the courtyard. We visited the doctor in his room and a monk brought in masticha, water, and preserved cherries for us. Fr. Joachim arranged for us to have mules when we wanted to leave and found that we would be able to see everything here. Since he didn't have a letter, we had to eat separately. Stacy and I went to the synod-room and had more liqueur and delicious cherries. People gathered in the hall upstairs and about 9:30, when all had arrived, the two bishops led the way to the dining room below. We all sat at a long table with the bishops at the head. We each had five plates piled on top of each other with knife and fork which we kept for each course. Wine was plentiful. The monks waited on table and served first cut up tomatoes and herring, then two fish courses, then beans, and last preserved pears. After dinner there were short speeches and singing in between. We weren't through until 11:15. Because of the number of people we had to sleep in separate rooms.
July 19. This morning I was waked up at 5:30 along with everybody else for the Liturgy. When I got to the church they were still doing the prothesis. A monk told me to take a stasidion in the very middle of the nave right in front of the Holy Doors where I saw everything. The Bishop of Tripolis was the principal officiant. He was wearing a sakkos of green and gold, an omophorion of white satin and gold, and carried an enameled crosier. With him served ten priests, some in red and gold, others in blue and gold, as well as five deacons. The color and pageantry were magnificent. At the Little Entrance four acolytes carried silver candlesticks in front and behind them came two deacons carrying the Gospels. The cover of the Gospels was of blue enamel set in silver and had five medallions on it. Instead of a curtain behind the Holy Doors was a gorgeous piece of pink and gold embroidery which could be raised and lowered. In front of the large icon of the Virgin and Child was a cloth of gold embroidery which was part of the trappings of Ali Pasha's horse. There were innumerable old Byzantine icons, especially in the sanctuary, the walls of which were lined with them. At the end of the Liturgy two monks brought in a great cake made of sugar, barley, and walnuts which had the design of the Byzantine eagle on it surrounded by an intricate border. There were two of these cakes, each about three feet in diameter. The second cake was decorated with a design of interlacing shields. One was blessed for St. Athanasius and the other in memory of the dead monks of the monastery. After the service the monks gave scoopfuls of the cake to the people outside. We had some and found it delicious.
I met Stacy and Fr. Joachim after the Liturgy and we took a look at the trapeza where the second class guests eat. They were all sitting at tables in a big hall eating soup and beans while a monk read aloud. After that we found the house where the library and treasures are kept was open, so over we went. In one room cabinets stood around the walls with treasures whose value couldn't be estimated. We saw the silver and gold miter of the Emperor Nikephoros, other miters of gold embroidery, two cibolia which looked like small churches, silver censers, jeweled and carved crosses. In another cabinet were Bibles. One was in a gold case with a long figure in relief on the cover. They opened this and it turned out to be a Gospel in uncials. Another Gospels was two feet high with painted enamel medallions, a gift of Catherine the Great. There were innumerable sets of vestments. Some of the orarions and epitrachelions had faces of saints embroidered on them in intricate detail. We saw a sakkos of gold cloth presented by the Emperor Nikephoros, which is worn only by the Patriarch when he visits the monastery. In the library we saw a Gospels in beautiful minuscules with many miniatures and decorations which the monks were thumbing over and examining with a magnifying glass. The books were all exposed on the shelves and no particular care was taken to guard them.
From there we went back to the church to see the relics. In front of the Holy Doors was a stand on which they put the reliquaries. An old man behind me showed me how to stand with hands folded in front. I nudged Stacy to show him but he kept his hands firmly behind his back. He told me later that he thought I was warning him to watch his pocketbook in the crowd. The best reliquary was a gold box studded with big precious stones to keep a piece of the Cross. Besides this we saw the hand of St. Andrew and of St. John Chrysostom and the head of St. Basil. We have decided that here on Athos they have a good chance of being genuine.
In the afternoon we lay down under the trees outside the monastery. Had a fine view of the sea and of the monastery. We walked down to the boat with Fr. Joachim and saw him off. He has been awfully good to us.
At dinner we were honored by having places near the bishop. What a meal! Six courses as follows: 1. tomato and greens; 2. onion and octopus; 3. mallow; 4. fried potatoes; 5. rice and octopus; 6. pears. The octopus has a pink flesh with a nice, delicate flavor. The tentacles, strange to say, are also good and tender.
July 20. For climbing Mt. Athos, Fr. Joachim arranged to have a servant of the monastery go with us. We got up about five and arranged one pack. Stacy believed in laying in a good quantity of the bread for the three-hours' walk but found after a little while that it turned into lead.
We started at 6:30 and followed a paved mule path which had smooth stones and ridges every yard or two which made walking unpleasant, especially on the upgrade. This lasted nearly an hour before we struck a stony dirt path. At first we went through low scrubby growth and gradually worked up to the level of larger trees like oaks, pines, and nut trees. Below us we saw the Romanian Skete of the Prodromos which was so white and clean that it might just have been built. At one point we saw a bright orange cliff which seemed to have been sliced off by the September earthquake. At Russiko they had told us that it happened during the vigil service for the Elevation of the Cross and the service went on without interruption although you could see the building sway.
We reached Kerasia by 9:30 and Euthymios, our guide, took us to a monk's house where there were mules. He brought out coffee and loukoumi and asked our nationality. When we came to the subject of the mules, he said he wanted 300 drachmas, that was what everybody paid. Luckily Fr. Joachim had told us not to give more than 200. While the argument was going on he gave us two cucumbers and said there were no other mules in the village. When we started to leave to look around he came down to 200. Later on top of the mountain we realized that we hadn't the cucumbers.
Going down to the village we saw other mules. Found a small Russian kellia consisting of church dormitory, and gardens. After looking at the church we were taken to the reception room and given masticha. We both find masticha quite strong especially when you are expected to drink it right down. When possible we pour it over the window sill or down a sink, but here the elder was with us so we drank part of it and left the rest. When he saw we had left some he went over to Stacy and held his glass to his mouth and literally poured it down. Then he saw that I finished mine.
We had two good mules with wooden saddles and thick blankets over them. It was a hard, stony trail up the mountain and we had to be careful to avoid bruising our legs against the rocks. Stacy preferred riding side saddle like may Greeks, but I found it more comfortable and secure to be astride. The slope of the mountain is so steep that we had wonderful views of the sea below. We dismounted at one spot and walked to the edge of a cliff from which we could jump off and land in St. Anne's. The mule boy said we were to walk from there, that it would take only a quarter of an hour. Since there were clouds just above us we couldn't tell but what that was the case. However, after climbing twenty minutes or so the clouds cleared and we saw the summit high above us. We had a hard hour's climb before we reached it. Though clouds were coming and going we had chances to make out monasteries below and look across the blue Aegean to Thasos, Samothrace, and Imbrose. On good days, we were told, it is possible to see Constantinople and Athens.
July 21. After spending the night at the Russian house in Kerasia we set off early in the morning. The walk was cool and easy. If we had had time we would have gone down to Kapsokalyvia where they are said to make wood carvings and good icons. Lavra looked like a castle with its tower as we approached it, and was certainly built to be defended. The courtyard is much more spacious than in any other monastery we have seen. The catholicon [main church] is in the middle and the other buildings straggle around it in irregular fashion.
We are glad to hear that a motor boat will be leaving for Iveron and that we shan't have to make the trip on mules. The boat was said to be leaving at noon but now it looks more like four or five. The time on the Mountain has confused us. They follow the Byzantine system which is a variation of the old Roman system. The day is supposed to start with sunrise and end with sunset. This would mean changing the length of the hours if they were accurate but time means so little here that they simply add an hour or two to the day in summer and subtract them in winter. Generally 8 AM is 12 for them, although at Lavra 6 AM was 12. We run on Saloniki time.
When it came time to leave we saw all the epitropoi and the hegoumenos come to the porch to say good-bye to the bishop. They would bow down and touch the ground, then kiss his hand. We walked down to the arsenal ahead of the others and had our packs taken by mule. On the way we had to pass a lot of mules which was a problem because the path was narrow and walled on both sides. We went gingerly hoping not to be kicked. We wanted to wait and watch the bishop get by.
As usual a good many people turned up to go in the boat. All the monks had umbrellas to keep off the hot sun. The bishop's deacon seemed to mind the swell and kept smelling a lemon. We passed Karakallou and Philotheou, both of which were set well back from the shore. One monk pointed out a tower with a small house adjoining where Patriarch Joachim stayed for some time. I gathered that he had had to flee from Turkey.