Mountain Monasteries
February 6, 2007![](https://static.dw.com/image/2245672_800.webp)
The ferry's landing flap rests on the dock amid the morning hectic of the fishing village Ouranopolis. Dusty SUVs and dented trucks rumble along the pier, honking as they went.
Men laden with heavy backpacks wave goodbye to their wives and children. One boy cries and clings to his father as the captain shouts, "Ella, ella. Hurry, hurry!"
The captain's steel collossus can't wait. After showing our passports and papers to the policeman at the dock, we board the ferry with our small travel group and climb the steel steps to the passenger deck.
Soon the anker is hoisted and, groaning as it budges away from the dock, the ferry is on its way to Mount Athos.
Far away from "the world"
The passengers' glances rest on a group of about two dozen men who had also found seats on the ferry. Their beards flow down to their chests and their uncut hair is knotted at the back of their necks. They are dressed in dark robes and black caps. Many seem tired and their faces are pale.
These men are among the 2,000 Christian Orthodox monks that live on Mount Athos. Most come from eastern and southern Europe, some from the US, Australia, Arab countries and even Germany.
Before the men opted for the monks' robes, they had lived -- as they call it -- "in the world." There they'd worked as managers, porfessors, tailors, engineers, or farmers. They'd played tennis or soccer, collected stamps, gone on vacation and fallen in love. In short, they followed their own will.
Then they gave notice at work, gave away their cars and closed their bank accounts. After saying goodbye to family and friends they joined one of the 20 monasteries on Athos. Following a trial period of several years, many of the men take a vow of poverty, celibacy and obedience.
Along the coast, monastery after monastery are lined up in a row, like a chain of pearls. Our ferry passes one after the next, each with a difficult sounding name: Dochiariu, Xenophontos, Panteleimonos, Xeropotamu. Their architecture resembles that of Europe's medieval castles with high, powerful walls, towers and arrow-slits.
Bringing Athos back to life
In the Middle Ages, pirates attacked many of the monk communities and pilfered the golden chalices and valuable icons that had been gifts of spiritually-minded tsars, kings and princes.
Prior to World War One, nearly 8,000 monks lived on Athos. The monasteries fell derelict after the Second World War, as the shadow of despotism in eastern Europe was felt as far away as Athos. Stalin, Breshnev, Tito and Ceausescu murdered thousands of Orthodox monks and threw many others in prison. A new generation of monks was absent.
The situation improved with the fall of the Iron Curtain. Once again, hundreds of young Russians, Ukrainians, Romanians and Serbs, many of them well educated, entered the monasteries and renovated them, bringing Athos back to life.
Most of the monks prefer to remain in their monastery community where everything is regulated and spiritual life is encouraged. The monks' purpose in life, as they say, is having a living relationship with God. Athos is a place where generations of monks have pursued this goal, veterans coming along side newcomers.
Modern-day miracles
After two hours, our ferry reaches the port at Daphne, which consists of a dozen two-storey houses. Underneath is a sparsely equipped coffee house that served Turkish mokka -- though it isn't allowed to call it that. Next door, icons, necklaces and prayer bands are sold.
On the street, a Babylonian mix of languages fills the air: cries, calls and shouts could be heard in Greek, Russian, English, Serbian, Albanian and German.
A new customs office had recently been built directly on the wharf. Greek police officers rummage through the bags of departing Athos visitors, on the lookout for smugglers who may be trying to sneak valuable icons out of the country.
The most valuable, miraculous icons on Athos, which depict the Madonna and child, can't be sold because they are too well known in the eastern Church. Many of them date back to the first few centuries after Christ, having made their way to Athos from Jerusalem or Byzantine, and monks and tourists alike approach them with bowed head and great reverence.
Even in recent times, numerous miracles have been attributed to the icons, such as extraordinary healings.
Mobile phones and a millennium of tradition
Mercedes busses are waiting for us on land and we rush to find a seat. Half an hour later, we arrive at Karyes, the monk republic's administrative center located 400 meters (a quarter mile) above sea-level.
Consisting of just a dozen houses, small shops with food and household items, a pharmacy, a bakery, a post office and one uninviting restaurant, Karyes is an insignificant little village -- except that the Protaton, the oldest church in the monk republic, is found there. Built in the 10th century, the place of worship is reminiscent of the oldest churches in western Europe.
Despite the sense of timeless in Karyes, mobile phones ring in its streets today. Jeeps now transport crates of rice and potatos, which used to be the job of donkeys. And many houses now have electricity and running water.
Even Protaton, the main church, has undergone changes in recent years. It's now covered in scaffolding as part of an extensive renovation process.
Directly across from the basilica, a well-worn marble staircase leads up into Athos' parliament building, where representatives from the 20 monasteries decide when and where new streets should be built, how many pilgrims may visit the mountain each day and what kind of relationship the community should have with the European Union.
Seeking spiritual progress
Our group of pilgrims continues on to the Saint Andrew Monastery nearby, where Father Efrem is awaiting us. He is young, perhaps 35, and wears metal-rimmed glasses and a scruffy beard. We had met Father Efrem years ago while he was working as a manager in the natural gas industry in Britain. Even then, he sought not only oil fields but also the "true faith."
Shortly after his conversion to orthodoxy, he became a neophyte and then a monk on Athos. In the Saint Andrew Monastery, Father Efrem looks after the dozens of visitors who come each day.
The monastery where Father Efrem lives and prays is a construction site. Built by the Russians before World War One, the building was empty for decades and fell into decay. Several years ago, a Greek brotherhood adopted the site and is in the process of rebuilding the monastery. Roofs are being recovered, walls stabilized, unsound floorboards replaced with stone.
In the evening, we sit with Father Efrem for a long time in the monastery's garden and speak about life on Athos.
The Athos monks forgo private possessions; everything belongs to the brotherhood. Prayer is simple and concrete for the monks and mysticism is something anybody can experience. The "Fathers," as the experienced monks are called, are wary of anything abstract and strictly reject sentimentalism. They demand sobernness, solemnity and effort from their "children," so that they will make spiritual progress.
Daily chores
We are awoken at three o'clock the next morning by the sound of rythmic drumming. This is the monks' call to liturgy prior to beginning their day's work. Psalms are read, prayers are spoken and finally the liturgy is celebrated. We are proud that we are able to stay awake through the five-hour event, despite having slept for just a few hours.
Following the liturgy, we breakfast with the monks. The Greek mountain tea tastes marvelous and the gooey Athos honey and nuts sweeten the hard, homemade bread.
Becoming a monk on Athos means giving up meat for life. For 200 days a year, they keep a particularly strict diet. On these days they eat only fruit, vegetables, potatoes and bread and go without animal products, olive oil and alcohol.
Each day, the monks complete individually assigned chores. Some prepare the next meal while others do the washing up, clean the church, fill the oil lamps in front of the icons, make bees wax candles or tend the olive groves. Still others look after the bee hives, fish in the sea, research the medieval parchments in the library, paint icons, or -- like Father Efrem -- meet with the guests.
Father Nikolaj and the wild boars
Father Efrem has taken the day off to spend with us and we have made plans to visit Father Nikolaj, a Russian monk who has lived for years as a hermit in an isolated monastery cell. We have to pass through narrow underbrush and cross streams to reach Father Nikolaj's residence, and the members of our group take turns poking sticks into the bushes to scare off any poisonous snakes.
Father Nikolaj beams with joy when we arrive and offers us freshly harvested melons, apples and pears from the garden where he has just been working.
When we finish eating the fruit, he places the rinds and cores in a bucket and asks us to follow him to the front gate. He taps the bucket against the earth and several wild boars immediately storm out of the surrounding bushes, lunging for the leftover fruit. We are amazed with how at ease Father Nikolaj seems among the animals.
"They won't do anything," Father Nikolaj assures us.
Athos' "little Germany"
We continue on until we come to another hermitage directly at the ocean. Iowanica, as it is called, belongs to the Serbian monastery on Athos. Father Panteleimon, a German who joined the Serbian brotherhood as a monk 23 years ago, lives in Iowanica.
Other monks say with admiration that his fields of olive trees, grapes, onions, tomatoes and more are a "little piece of Germany on Athos." That's also true of the liturgy Father Panteleimon holds in German in the small chapel on his hermitage. The German pilgrims are particularly thankful to be able to attend liturgy in their own language. Many even stay to lend a hand in the fields during the harvest season.
Father Panteleimon, now in his mid-50s, is sober, pragmatic, humorous and diligent. Many come to Athos to ask him for advice. Perhaps that is what makes Athos so remarkable: Pilgrims find experienced teachers here and sit with them on the patio in the evenings, gazing at the ocean view and talking about God and the meaning of life.
The next morning, we take the Mercedes bus to the port and from there the ferry takes us back "into the world."