You come to wheat fields and olive trees.
Knolls crested with towers. Next the high hilltop of Vathla
packed with grey towers. The towers of treasured tradition. Most
of them have been restored and transformed into guesthouses by
the GNTO. A refuge where peace and quiet reign.
ln Mani the Cretan influence is pronounced.
Many Maniots wear baggy breeches and head bandanas like the
Cretans. With their decorated jackets and midriffs tightly
swathed by heavy belts, tall and thin with thick moustaches and
eyebrows, they seem like heroes out ofafairytale whenyou
encounter theminth‚ roador in a cafe. And they have the same
habits. They welcome you to their homes with a glass of the same
fiery raki, the same preserves and the same cup of coffee. They
differ only in their songs and dances.
Here the need for comfort from the pain of
death gave birth to a unique form of folk poetry, the Maniot
moirologia or laments. These are whole poems that are sung at the
grave.
They remind one of the lament of Andromache
for Hector or the dirge of Hecuba for her lost children as well
as of Byzantine threnodies.