When the earth moves in Gavalochori, it could be because of an earthquake, or it might be the work of Kostis Bakatsis, who own an excavating and demolition business in the village. A native of Gavalochori, Kostis still lives in the old family home not far from the pre-industrial olive mill.
Kostis’s company deals with earth moving, extraction, and demolition. His most common kind of work deals with digging out foundations for houses and commercial buildings. He dug the foundation, for example, for the pharmacy in Almyrida. His favorite piece of equipment? The excavator. As he explains, “It does all the jobs,” performing functions such as digging trenches, breaking holes, and lifting away waste. He usually works alone but might hire someone if he needs an extra hand. When he does, that someone is usually a family member. As Kostis explains, he picks “whoever can wake up early in the morning.”
Kostis’s interest in and experience with heavy machinery goes way back. When he was 13 years old, the man who owned the quarry in Gavalochori offered him a job running some of the heavy machinery, and he did that every summer until he completed high school. His father worked in the olive mill near the Folklore Museum for 20 years, and Kostis worked there as well, starting in the eighth grade. He now stores his heavy machinery there and rents one of the buildings to repair his machinery.
When he is not working the earth, Kostis cultivates and harvests olives and tends to the 50 sheep he keeps in a field in Douliana. He also hunts game, including hares and migratory birds. Many of the birds have disappeared, though, because of climate change. He also enjoys traditional Cretan celebrations and spending time with his teenage daughter, who lives in Chania.
What Kostis particularly appreciates about Gavalochori is how green it is. He likes very much that it lies in a protected area, almost like it is a sheltered bay. He does not understand why expats want to build houses on hills in Plaka and around Gavalochori, where they are so exposed to wind and heavy weather.
Kostis has many ties to people and places in the village. His father, Kostis Bakatsis, was the president of the village for 12 years, and his brother Nikos used to run the Arismari taverna. His grandfather’s home in Douliana was sold to Esmigia, the popular co-op and taverna in the main square, and it is now part of that establishment. Two houses across the alley from the Folklore Museum used to belong to his aunt.
Kostis has many special memories of Gavalochori from when he was growing up. He attended elementary school between 1980 and 1986 in the old school in Gavalochori—his was one of the last classes that was held there. Because there were so few children in the village then, the 35 students in the 1st through 6th grades were all taught together in one room with a single teacher. He also remembers with fondness his family’s two donkeys, the mode of transportation for traveling to nearby Kalyves, a trip that took 45 minutes.
How has Gavalochori changed since he was a child? Kostis answers quickly, “It has grown apart.” The kinds of connections that used to unify people have been lost. He remembers the fun of walking out of his house and searching for his friends, knowing they were nearby. He also enjoyed how much exchange there was among all of the villages around Gavalochori, including Douliana, Almyrida, Agios Pavlos, and Aspro. They were thought of back then as being more like neighborhoods rather than separate villages.
He cites as another example of the bond people shared in earlier years the fact that there used to be 10 major celebrations a year in Gavalochori featuring traditional Cretan music, food, and dancing. Now, there are usually just two such celebrations a year. These celebrations were not just in the summer. There were two in the winter—one around the Christmas holiday and one for carnival. These events each attracted about 1,000 people, and the money raised was used to repair or renovate whatever needed fixing in the village. Many people used to return to the village from Athens for these celebrations, and they would stay several days in the village.
Because Kostis cares a great deal about Gavalochori, he would like to see the amenities of everyday life improved—sufficient water and roads without potholes, for example—but he has ideas for improvements on a larger scale as well. He would like to see the olive press near the Folklore Museum restored but is aware of the major challenge facing such a renovation: Because it was a cooperative, it is owned by many people, so someone has to put in the time to find all of the owners or their descendants and ask them to give up their claim to ownership of the building. He also did research to find the appropriate kind of equipment that needs to be rented to repave and renovate a street in Gavalochori. He also wants to contribute to solving the trash problem in the village. He observes that the bins overflowing with garbage are not only ugly but dangerous because they can start fires.
Kostis appreciates the connections and sense of belonging in the Gavalochori of old. He would like the village to flourish, and he knows that change is inevitable if it is to survive. He hopes, though, that some of the practices and values of the village’s earlier years can be resurrected, and he will be contributing to that effort, shaping Gavalochori one scoop at a time.
When the earth moves in Gavalochori, it could be because of an earthquake, or it might be the work of Kostis Bakatsis, who own an excavating and demolition business in the village. A native of Gavalochori, Kostis still lives in the old family home not far from the pre-industrial olive mill.
Kostis’s company deals with earth moving, extraction, and demolition. His most common kind of work deals with digging out foundations for houses and commercial buildings. He dug the foundation, for example, for the pharmacy in Almyrida. His favorite piece of equipment? The excavator. As he explains, “It does all the jobs,” performing functions such as digging trenches, breaking holes, and lifting away waste. He usually works alone but might hire someone if he needs an extra hand. When he does, that someone is usually a family member. As Kostis explains, he picks “whoever can wake up early in the morning.”
Kostis’s interest in and experience with heavy machinery goes way back. When he was 13 years old, the man who owned the quarry in Gavalochori offered him a job running some of the heavy machinery, and he did that every summer until he completed high school. His father worked in the olive mill near the Folklore Museum for 20 years, and Kostis worked there as well, starting in the eighth grade. He now stores his heavy machinery there and rents one of the buildings to repair his machinery.
When he is not working the earth, Kostis cultivates and harvests olives and tends to the 50 sheep he keeps in a field in Douliana. He also hunts game, including hares and migratory birds. Many of the birds have disappeared, though, because of climate change. He also enjoys traditional Cretan celebrations and spending time with his teenage daughter, who lives in Chania.
What Kostis particularly appreciates about Gavalochori is how green it is. He likes very much that it lies in a protected area, almost like it is a sheltered bay. He does not understand why expats want to build houses on hills in Plaka and around Gavalochori, where they are so exposed to wind and heavy weather.
Kostis has many ties to people and places in the village. His father, Kostis Bakatsis, was the president of the village for 12 years, and his brother Nikos used to run the Arismari taverna. His grandfather’s home in Douliana was sold to Esmigia, the popular co-op and taverna in the main square, and it is now part of that establishment. Two houses across the alley from the Folklore Museum used to belong to his aunt.
Kostis has many special memories of Gavalochori from when he was growing up. He attended elementary school between 1980 and 1986 in the old school in Gavalochori—his was one of the last classes that was held there. Because there were so few children in the village then, the 35 students in the 1st through 6th grades were all taught together in one room with a single teacher. He also remembers with fondness his family’s two donkeys, the mode of transportation for traveling to nearby Kalyves, a trip that took 45 minutes.
How has Gavalochori changed since he was a child? Kostis answers quickly, “It has grown apart.” The kinds of connections that used to unify people have been lost. He remembers the fun of walking out of his house and searching for his friends, knowing they were nearby. He also enjoyed how much exchange there was among all of the villages around Gavalochori, including Douliana, Almyrida, Agios Pavlos, and Aspro. They were thought of back then as being more like neighborhoods rather than separate villages.
He cites as another example of the bond people shared in earlier years the fact that there used to be 10 major celebrations a year in Gavalochori featuring traditional Cretan music, food, and dancing. Now, there are usually just two such celebrations a year. These celebrations were not just in the summer. There were two in the winter—one around the Christmas holiday and one for carnival. These events each attracted about 1,000 people, and the money raised was used to repair or renovate whatever needed fixing in the village. Many people used to return to the village from Athens for these celebrations, and they would stay several days in the village.
Because Kostis cares a great deal about Gavalochori, he would like to see the amenities of everyday life improved—sufficient water and roads without potholes, for example—but he has ideas for improvements on a larger scale as well. He would like to see the olive press near the Folklore Museum restored but is aware of the major challenge facing such a renovation: Because it was a cooperative, it is owned by many people, so someone has to put in the time to find all of the owners or their descendants and ask them to give up their claim to ownership of the building. He also did research to find the appropriate kind of equipment that needs to be rented to repave and renovate a street in Gavalochori. He also wants to contribute to solving the trash problem in the village. He observes that the bins overflowing with garbage are not only ugly but dangerous because they can start fires.
Kostis appreciates the connections and sense of belonging in the Gavalochori of old. He would like the village to flourish, and he knows that change is inevitable if it is to survive. He hopes, though, that some of the practices and values of the village’s earlier years can be resurrected, and he will be contributing to that effort, shaping Gavalochori one scoop at a time.
