(Olive harvest on Lesvos)
In the mud, between olive trees, there are shabby summer tents. The
trees don’t look much better: those that are not nearly cut to the
ground, most of their branches have been sacrificed to the nearly
freezing people who have only tiny fires to warm up. Welcome to
Lesvos, the island of millions of olive trees, now better known as
The Shame of Europe: Camp Moria.
This refugee camp has been built amidst some of the endless olive
trees that since immemorial times have helped the island. Even in
1850, when due to a frost, all trees literally burst open and cattle
also died, the Lesvorians immediately set about with empty stomachs
to replant new trees. Within years these brought new prosperity to
the island and food to their plates.
Mytilini again has become an international town: many NGO's have
settled to help the thousands of refugees who arrive or are stuck in
the camps. They live in hotels, dine in restaurants, empty the stores
and now and then take a stroll over the island. Similar to 1900, when
Mytilini was a bubbling centre of international allure, only then it
was the trading companies and the merchants, living in huge villa's,
who brought the city economic prosperity: a period that even tourism
never could compete with.
While Mytilini and Moria have become their own new worlds, elsewhere
on the island life continues as usual. Winter means olive harvest,
mostly done by hand but sometimes aided by small electric devices.
The millions of trees are spread all over the island, even growing in
inhospitable mountains, supported by small terraces on incredibly
steep slopes or in remote corners; even there — most of them still
get harvested. There are not many huge plantations: most of the
fields are owned by different families who have looked after them for
generations. Some people get the olives done in a few days, some take
all winter to beat the fruit out of the trees.
In the glory days, when Lesvos was still part of the Ottoman Empire,
though the Greeks had a pretty free hand in managing their soap and
oil businesses, 98 steam driven plants pressed the liquid gold from
the olives and three factories were transforming the kernels into
fuel. The island had the largest number of big factories in all of
Greece. Oil and soap were exported as far away as Marseille and the
countries around the Black Sea.
In Agia Paraskevi and in Papados the old factories have been
transformed into museums, while each community still has its own
presses, most of them have modernized. The many – big and small –
olive producers are united in a cooperative, that helps with
transport, pressing and storage. But Lesvos lost its rich commerce.
No more foreign consulates left in Mytilini, the big merchants moved
to the mainland and since the mighty Ottoman Empire became part of
history, Lesvos lost most of its export markets.
There now is just a bit of the oil going abroad. Most of the precious
olive oil strands in local kitchens or is send to family in Athens.
Only a handful of small producers pour the golden oil into bottles
with their own label and try to sell to other countries.
Especially in the north olive trees are not taken seriously anymore.
There they think that the new gold can be pressed out of tourism. In
the summers they labour in kitchens and offices to please the
tourists. But there is no clear vision about how tourism on the
island should be developed. Some people thinking they hold the power
believe that all-inclusive hotels will bring in the money, while some
smaller offices just try to promote alternative holidays and eco
tourism, which in my opinion suits the island with its millions of
trees far more. Those offices do not go for the money, but realize
what a rough diamond this, so often neglected by Athens, island can
be in the overheated tourist industry.
The
tourist business is an unstable market. Proven by the last two years
when tourists stayed away from the island due to the refugee crisis.
The olive market is more stable: if you take care of the olive
fields, there is money to be earned. In the winter months everywhere
on the island you hear the long sticks beating against the branches
or the humming of little machines ticking the olives in the nets. The
liquid gold drips everywhere from the trees,
but what is missing on the island are some smart merchants. Lesvos is
infested by people who cannot or will not cooperate. Everybody
mistrusts everybody and cannot be happy when some one else is
successful. So everybody continues operating on their own, never
succeeding in something big. The Great Greek Mercantile Spirit, once
making Izmir and Mytilini so prosperous, seems to have gone up with
the smoke of history.
(with
thanks to Mary Staples)
©
Smitaki 2018
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