Counting Sheep
It’s Christmas time and our thoughts turn to sheep. “But hang on a minute, isn’t April with the celebration of Saint George the big time for sheep on Crete?” I hear you cry. Yes, yes, yes. But sheep are very Christmassy for many reasons not least because of how pretty they look with tinsel tied lovingly to a bit of fleece (for our international readers ‘tinsel’ is that sparkly string type stuff that people decorate Christmas trees with). Sensible animal welfare note: If you are going to tie tinsel to your sheep, make sure the sheep doesn’t eat it and make sure the tinsel doesn’t strangle the sheep. In fact, best not to tie tinsel to your sheep at all. Tie your yellow tinsel round an old oak tree instead. Anyway, as it turns out, this article is going to be more about shepherds than it is about sheep (though goatherds might get a bit of a look in too). Shepherds? Christmas? Don’t think there’s any argument about the link there…. Here on this page we bring you some local Cretan legends about shepherds that we think are rather entertaining. We hope you enjoy them too.
The Magnetic Shepherd
Some of you might already know this myth (I expect that many of our Greek readers will), but we didn’t, and we think the story is absolutely brilliant. It is said that in around 900 BC, a shepherd called Magnes was herding his flock on Mount Ida when he found that the nails in his boots and the iron tip of his crook were attracted to the ground. Or to put it another way, he kept getting stuck to the rock. After a while he started to get a bit curious about what was happening to him (and was also getting rather fed up by the fact that his sheep kept racing up the mountain away from him). After a while he
started digging in the ground to find out what was dragging him down - physically speaking, that is (he already had a fair idea that what was dragging him down emotionally was that his sheep no longer seemed to care whether he herded them or not). After some time he managed to find the rocks that were the source of the attraction. These were “lodestones” which contain a natural magnetic material now known as magnetite (Fe3O4). And this accounts for the discovery of magnetism. Or so they say round these parts….
The Birth of Anogia
Anogia, high up in the Psiloritis mountain range has a long and - to put it mildly (!) - interesting history. (It was a centre of revolutionary uprising during the Turkish occupation, it was also here, in 1944, that most of the males in the vicinity were executed by German forces as a reprisal for local resistance activity). Traditionally, partly due to the harsh nature of the environment, shepherding has played a vital role in terms of contributing towards the local economy. So, whilst it is not clear how and when Anogia first came into being as a settlement, it seems appropriate that one of the most popular legends about the birth of Anogia is to do with a shepherd. The story goes as follows: One day, a shepherd from nearby Axos was out herding away when he suddenly spotted an icon of John the Baptist lying on the ground. Being a pious bloke, he picked up the icon, carefully wrapped it in a towel, and took it home with him. However, when he woke up the next morning, the icon had disappeared. He rushed back out to the mountainside (the story doesn’t say whether he took his sheep with him) and was flabbergasted to discover that the icon was back in the same place where he had found it the day before. He took this as a sign to build a church dedicated to John the Baptist, which in turn led to the establishment of the settlement. And it would seem to be the case that the Church of St John - which dates back at least as far as the 11th Century - is the earliest known building in Anogia.
Banishing Vampires in Kalikrati
Taking a completely different tack from the previous story we now turn to the role of Sfakian shepherds in getting rid of vampires - ‘katakhanades’. One of the best known stories is about the vampire and the shepherd from Kalikrati. This story was first documented in English by Robert Pashley in his book Travels in Crete (1837) - but there are loads of versions of it on the internet. Here is our irreverent interpretation: Way back when, a local dignitary was buried in the village of Kalikrati. Because he was an important dude, an arch was built over his grave. However, within a short time he rose from the dead as a vampire, and went rampaging around the countryside doing those really bad things that vampires do. One afternoon a shepherd was out and about when it started chucking it down with rain. So he decided to go and sleep under the arch. As he had two guns with him (!), he placed these on the ground in the form of a cross, and used them as a pillow. When the vampire woke up, the cross prevented him from passing. A discussion took place between the vampire and the shepherd. Eventually, the vampire convinced the shepherd that if the shepherd allowed him to pass, he would be a very good vampire and wouldn’t do any ravaging or such like. But, as you have
probably guessed, the vampire had lied and went out to be a very bad vampire indeed. When the vampire came back the shepherd
realised what had happened, at which point the vampire made several evil threats. Despite the intimidation, the next day the shepherd told the rest of the villagers, who then burnt the corpse (it being daylight the corpse was harmless). No more vampire! PS. I think one of the important points of this story might be that up until then nobody knew that it was the ’important dude’ who had become a vampire….