The Winter Solstice, or for those of you in the Southern
Hemisphere, the Summer Solstice, occurred on Saturday 21st December
at 19.11, Lamia time, to be precise. I guess Lamia was nominated as being an approximate
geographic centre of Greece. At any
rate, from now on we can take heart – our days are gradually beginning to
lengthen.
This posting you’ll
be glad to hear, has no travel tittle-tattle; we’ll have a break from breaks.
First, our news. H is a canny customer and
decided paying road tax for two cars was too much, so he surrendered to the tax
office the registration plates of one car, effectively taking it off the road.
Many have taken the same steps recently to save money. Imagine, then, our surprise on hearing that
Michael Liapis, a well-known politician of the Karamanlis dynasty, had been
apprehended for: failing to halt at a stop sign, driving without insurance, and
for having false number plates.
Now you would expect such a person to behave with more dignity – but the
real irony is that he was Minister of Transport, no less, from 2004 to 2007! He
recently declared an annual income of 109, 000 euros, so I guess he could
afford the 1,300 euro road tax. But the
fact that he had his trial delayed while he went off on a luxury holiday to
Asia was definitely a case of ……now what is that word the Greeks have for it ?
….ah, yes : hubris.
By the way, another politician, Aleka Papriga,
declared an income of 70, 612 euros, but a bank credit of 50 euros. Now I
realize that Communists are not greatly into property and wealth, and Aleka has
only this year given up her position as General Secretary of the Communist
Party, a position she held since 1991. But doesn’t that sound as if either
she’s having us on or is an exceptionally poor financial manager?
Next topic: derivations. I’ve always
been interested in those terms we use in English which derive from Greek but
where the senses generated in the two languages have diverged over time. H is
equally interested in things linguistic and these are his findings. Today’s word
is sycophant, adj.: a servile
flatterer (the more usual sense in English) or a common informer (this one
being more in line with what the Greek word conveys) – i.e. a snitch with an
agenda!
The derivation that is suggested is as
follows: In the ancient times, trading
rights were carefully restricted and protected. This was true for trading in
figs, an important Attican crop. Greeks have apparently always been ready to
bend and stretch rules, so under-the-counter fig-trade did take place. The
sycophant, then, was the one who rumbled an illicit fig-merchant, whether his
claim was substantiated or not.
Finally, as you may know, I pen
the odd poem from time to time – whenever something bothers me or touches me,
that is, when something gets me or gets to me.
For the past two weeks, rather than saying I
have had sinusitis, I can say that it definitely held me in its relentless
grip. A life-long sufferer – a
consultant once told me it was a question of bad design and poor choice of parents
– I have not been through such a bad, prolonged bout before. My illness
coincided with a period of test preparation I was doing with an ear, nose and
throat surgeon. Try saying her specialization – otorhinolaryngology - when
suffering from nasal congestion!
So it was inevitable that an opus
was produced – it’s not for the faint-hearted and probably best read before
ingesting copious quantities of Christmas fare! Anyway, since it is, as it
were, right up your street, Aleka, this poem I dedicate to you!
A Sonnet to Sinusitis
The first foreboding symptom is when your throat begins to
burn
Then, like Charlie’s
Chocolate Factory, the mucus machines begin to turn
But when the sinus
sluice-gates get inflamed and become plugged
That’s when you know that virus has finally got you slugged.
However you wish to describe them:
Enraged, inflamed or engulfed
Your sinuses front, maxillary and sphenoid
Are well and truly stuffed
You blow your nose with vigour,
Causing cavities to squeak
As the gunge spreads out to fill the space
Left by sputum vented through mouth and beak
It’s thick, claggy
and viscous
And may even be the colour of bile
But mostly it’s
diaphanous
And absolutely vile.
And when this discharge, effluent, gob descends
As it does from every
cranny and recess,
It is, of course, essential to have
Hankies within easy
access.
You hack and cough to clear your pharynx
Then the virus decides to attack your larynx
With control no
longer over pitch rise and fall
Your rasping sounds
like an obscene phone-call.
So, have a happy festive time –
Avoid the twerking Miley Cyrus-
But most of all make it very clear
You want no virulent virus
Have fun, drink lots
of eggnog and punch
And have a
well-earned rest
And of all these great gifts you receive
Your health will be the best!
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Joyous New Year !
