Greece - A Different Perspective

by John Huddleston

All through our month's travel through Greece, Annie was a smarmy poser. She loved to leap atop a broken column, strike a mock-ancient pose and beg to be snapped. She enjoyed becoming Annie - as Agamemnon, Annie - as Pan, Annie - as Bacchus. But the day we visited Delphi, everything changed.

Site of the famous Oracle of Delphi, this ancient location is an easy trip from Athens, and on the way we drove along twisty lanes flanked by groves of gnarled olive trees and soft vineyards, rooted in the timeless rhythms of the seasons. There were little domed churches, bright white in the midday sun, and the colorful flash of a red and blue wooden fishing fleet, gently bobbing in a harbor. The sound of the bouzouki echoed over a plateau filled with windmills, with triangular fabric blades, all sheltered beneath the translucent blue Greek sky. 

To the ancient Greeks, Delphi was the center of the world. At the beginning of time, Zeus, father of the Gods, released two eagles from opposite ends of the earth. One flew east, one flew west, and when they met above Delphi, Zeus cast the Sacred Stone to mark Delphi as the center of the Earth.

When Zeus's son, Apollo, came to Delphi, the power of foretelling already radiated from the Delphic soil where the Earth goddess Gaia had uttered prophecies. 

The Oracle was a woman chosen from the maidens of Delphi who had passed their 15th year. To reveal prophetic wisdom, she would bow to the Sacred Stone of Zeus, eat a laurel leaf, and seat herself on a tripod suspended over a smoking chasm in the earth. By inhaling the vapors from the chasm, she entered a state of ecstasy, uttering prophecies that a priest would render into verse.

For 700 years, the Oracle was the greatest prophet of the western world. No important decision was made without a journey to Delphi. Apollo's Oracle never lied, though the truth was often veiled. In 589 BC, King Croesus of Lydia marshaled his troops on the frontier with Persia but held back his army until he consulted the Oracle, who prophesied, "March, and you will destroy a great empire." Croesus marched, and the Oracle was correct; however, the empire destroyed was his own.

Pilgrimages still continue to Delphi, and the spirit of the gods is still there. Look upward from the cool, green groves 

and you'll seldom fail to see two eagles wheeling above in the piercing blue sky. With the Gulf of Corinth below and Mount Parnasus above, Delphi occupies the middle ground between the world of men and gods.

Annie and I spent the afternoon at Delphi, wandering among temples, city-state treasuries and amphitheaters, with Annie spending much of her time grinning atop ruined pedestals. As we were leaving the sacred precinct, we passed the ruins of a small Tholos, a round sanctuary. There were no guides, kiosks or markers. A stillness pervaded the little grove and we felt called to pay it a visit. 

Suddenly, Annie's smirky behavior changed. She wandered on her own, exploring the pillars and lintels that gave mute testament to the former grace of the little temple. As she walked through the grounds of the Tholos she became uncharasterically quiet and solemn, and a look came over her, as if she was trying to resolve a puzzle. Walking around with eyes cast downward, she seemed to be searching. Searching for something lost, but close at hand. Then, deliberately, she stepped up on a pillar base in front of the temple, and assumed a declarative pose. Her legs were apart. Her left hand was at her side; the other held purposefully away from her right hip with thumb and fingers circled. Her head was to the side and inclined downward with a stern look. I watched from a descreet distance as she held the pose, then, with apparent self-consciousness, alighted from her perch. Minutes later, however, I found her once again in that same position. This continued on for about half an hour. This was clearly a personal, internal journey, and I didn't photograph her, and never asked. Late in the afternoon we left, stopping at a nearby taverna for some wine, chever, and ripe olives. Slowly her strange mood drifted off.

That evening, while leafing through some books we bought at the Delphi Museum, we came across a section on Tholos. We discovered it was called the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia- "Athena Standing Before the Temple". The facing page showed a reconstruction of the ancient site. The goddess Athena stood on a pedestal in front of the temple. Then we saw Athena's pose. It was exactly what Annie had struck and maintained at the Tholos; the angle of the head, the position of the arms...all exactly the same. Where Annie's right hand had circled empty air, the goddess's held a spear to protect the city. Even the expression of the face, the stern visage, was identical.

An unseen hand often guides travels in ancient lands. We are all pilgrims. Frequently we are called to visit an ancient site because we have been there before. Like the urge to visit your childhood nursery or your first grade classroom, the call to once again see the site of an important epoch of your soul's journey is a call that will be answered.

When Annie saw the photograph of Athena's statue she shivered and moved to a window overlooking the deep cobalt of the Gulf of Corinth. Had she been a hand maiden here centuries ago? A priestess in the temple? Then Annie took a deep breath, smiled and calmly closed the book. I had a hunch she found that piece of the puzzle she had been looking for.