Old School Festivals

DC in the middle of August isn’t the best place in the world to be.  As this past week has shown, Washingtonians really don’t have much to look forward to during this time of the year; the days gets shorter, the oppressive heat and humidity finally catch up with us, and thunderstorms find a way to ruin our weekend plans.  It’s even harder on the Greeks who happen to still be in the area.  Either you’ve just gotten back from Greece and are wondering why you are sweating in a 98 degree sauna instead of baking in the 85 degree sunshine of a Greek island, or you’re stuck here while every other Greek you know is still over there.  There’s usually not much going on for Greeks in the area as a result of everyone being on vacation.  If only we could fast-forward to the fall, when a string of Greek Festivals, the annual D.C. YAL weekend, and the Laconian Dance over Thanksgiving weekend has everyone pretty much Greeked-out until the New Year.  But fast-forwarding through August would mean missing out on two truly special events available to those of us in the DC area that can get us out of the Metro area and take us back to the Greek village. The two events that we’re talking about, on back-to-back weekends every year in August, are the Greek Festivals at the Church of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary in Winchester, VA and the Neohorites festival near Abbotstown, Pennsylvania.  These festivals give DC Greeks a rare opportunity to escape the Metro area for a day trip that reminds us of the festivals of our parents’ generation back in Greece.

The Winchester Festival as its name suggests, is usually held on the weekend of or following the Dormition of the Virgin Mary on August 15th, which this year is on Saturday August 19th and Sunday August 20th.  Located in Winchester, VA, it’s a little over an hour from the DC area.  Half the fun of this festival is just getting there.  I think we’ve taken at least three different routes to get there and have gotten lost at least once with each different route.  The most scenic route is taking Route 50 from Fairfax straight through sleepy little towns like Aldie and Middleburg to Winchester.  The festival itself is very small but somehow attracts Greeks as far away as Baltimore, as there’s a dance troop from Baltimore that shows up there every year.  Now this is a very old school festival.  For years you couldn’t even get gyro at this festival.  You could only get souvlaki, and that was on a stick, with Greek table bread, not pita.  The only other alternative was lamb by the pound.  To be quite honest, we hated this festival growing up for its refusal to conform to the fast-food commercialism of our generation.

 A week later is the Neohorites Greek Festival.  Now the location of this festival makes Winchester look like a thriving metropolis.  Located a little over 2 hours from the DC area in rural Pennsylvania, this is truly the meaning of the term “exohi.”  I doubt Mapquest has directions to this place; actually, we’ve been sitting here for the past 45 minutes, and Mapquest can only get you to the center of a town 5 miles away.  But once you are there, you are amazed by how there could even be a church in such a remote but scenic area.  The festival is almost completely outdoors, with an open wooden barn replacing the usual festival tent, with the hillsides providing an awesome backdrop for a festival.    This is one of the rare festivals where you can actually hear a clarino wailing above all the other instruments.  You’ll find Greeks from Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and even New York and New Jersey at this festival.  Growing up we hated the long car ride getting there, but usually had a great time playing football in the open field right next to the festival grounds.  The only thing that’s missing are the goats and the cicadas or otherwise you’d think you were in a mountain village back in Greece.

 These festivals remind us of our summer vacation last year in our dad’s village near Argos.  There’s a small exoklisio dedicated to the Virgin Mary a 20-minute drive straight up a rocky, dusty road that everyone in the village treks to this time of year.  The festival actually starts a couple of days before August 15^th, and the people here, mostly tobacco farmers, turn this festival into a 72 hour camp-out.  Camping in the horio is a little different than what we do here in the States.  Sleeping bags and tents are replaced with cots and mattresses; picnic tables are actually the patio tables from people’s verandas.  Every year the same families come and stake out the same positions on the hill without an argument as to who got there first; it’s like luxury boxes at MCI Center, except not so luxurious.  The morning of the 15^th starts with the traditional church service.  The entire service is held outside.  The yiayiades are in front, attentively praying as yiayiades do; the papoudes, a few rows behind, are quietly carrying on conversations, but following along nonetheless.  The younger members of the congregation are always near the back it seems, thinking more about the meal that follows the service than about what’s going on during the service itself.

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