It's All Greek to Me!

For our Labor Day adventure, we drove to the big city! Local friends, who are much better at knowing what is going on outside the fence row, invited us to meet them at the Greek Festival at the Greek Orthodox Church in downtown. Now, I am a fan of Greek food. Facebook friends may recall the creation earlier this year of the Parthenon cake for my eldest's Greek birthday party. Also attending the party were my friends, Moussaka, Spanikopita and Tzatziki. So, I'm always up for excellent Greek food made by someone else! 

15th Birthday, Parthenon Cake

On the other hand, going to a Greek Orthodox Church is like revisiting one of my childhood nightmares. As a young'un, maybe 3,  living in Yorktown Heights, New York, I attended my first wedding. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was looking forward to seeing the magical "Bride". She would be pretty, like a princess; in our house "fairyprincessbridequeen" our favorite dress-up identity. This wedding would be at the Greek Orthodox Church. Here is what I remember about the wedding;
It was a really big open roundish church with very dark wooden pews.
The large, dark piano was inexplicably in the middle of the church, and that was really odd to me.
When the wedding music got started by the woman at the piano, little girls dressed as "fairyprincessbridequeens" walked down the aisle with baskets full of flower petals.
Just as I was about to whisper in my deepest heart that my greatest ambition was to be in a wedding, one of the pretty, curly dark haired little girls in the frilliest white dress I'd ever seen was accosted by a large fat woman in a floral polyester dress and a big mustache. She hauled that little girl right behind the piano, gripping her arm and hollering at her, pulled down her frilly little white ruffled panties and whomped her on the bare bum about 5 times. Then she tugged down the girls dress and pushed her right back into the aisle to proceed as if nothing had happened.
That is all. Horror. Better believe I was quiet and unobtrusive the rest of that day!
No one wanted me to go to a wedding again until I was about 12. That wedding was outdoors in a tent in Connecticut, and not nearly as frightening. Well, it had it's own pitfalls, as I had no idea how powerful champagne was until that night.

Anyway, the closest I'd come to a Greek Orthodox church since that early childhood nightmare was watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding on the tele. And laughing aloud from the safety of adulthood and a couch. And yet, I found myself in Hellenic Heaven on this beautiful, 80 degree midwestern day.
We explored for a bit, then got down to the real reason we were here. Food.
Moussaka, spanikopita, tyropita, thick chunks of super-salty feta, gyros, baklava, kataifi, amygdalopita, melomakaroma- they all sound a bit like cancer diagnoses, but they are all delicious!
Just as we were finishing the last tasty bites, the children of the church began to do traditional dancing.

Woo hoo! (or in Greek: OPA!)

The kids were very cute, and the two little ones in our group wanted to join right in.
Watching all this dancing, made us hungry.
After a nice sampling of sweets, we listened to the Greek choir. Mostly ladies and then one man, and another man on the accordion. Didn't understand a word they said, but when you crow like a rooster in Greek, it sounds just like our American ones.
Only one thing left to do, screw my courage to the sticking spot, and see the cathedral.
Let me tell you, those Greeks aren't afraid of a little bling. We Methodists get nervous around fancy, garish colors, noise, moving, anything that sparkles. Even our felt banners are in careful, muted tones.
Not those Greeks. The pews were comfortable ( a revelation), and the whole sanctuary shined in marble and murano glass murals.51 million tiles of glass.

The top of the sanctuary. That is Jesus, surrounded by 24 of his ancestors, starting with Adam in the east.

We Methodists have a wooden cross to decorate our sanctuary. And, usually some beautiful flowers cut from someone's garden (usually Betty, she's got great flowers).

The Greeks have a whole genealogy of Christ, in glass...not to mention the story of his life and an enormous Virgin with child. You get bored in this church service, and there is a LOT to look at- all of it really shiny.

Way in the back is Mary with boy Jesus on her lap.

Maybe they have Greek Cooties? Mix it up, folks.

So, I'm thinking of bringing some glitter to church on Sunday. Baby steps. And this sanctuary wasn't at all dark, and their wasn't any battering, mustachioed women jumping out into the aisles. Phew.




Thank you to the "Stephenopoulouses" for including us in a really fun afternoon.