Clean Monday – The Presentation of the Koudounoforoi

The morning of Clean Monday began with a light smattering of snow that settled on the hills above Sochos. Here in the village, the flakes melted as soon as they hit the ground. Such is the early March weather in Northern Macedonia.

Today is the finale of Carnival. Clean Monday or Kathara Deftera marks the last day of revelry before the 40 days of Lenten fasting begins. My host Vicky had helpfully messaged me to say that the day would start with dancing in the square and at 3.30pm the parade would go past the house. Today is the day that the Koudounoforoi of Sochos, also known as the Bell-Bearers of Merion, would have their honour. Until now, their presence in the festivities had appeared sporadic, but later today, their moment would come!

I took a place on the edge of the church courtyard overlooking the square. This elevated position gave me a good view of ‘almost’ everything that would be taking place, so I was glad to have arrived early. The square had been cordoned off with metal barriers, and a small crowd had already begun to build.

On the other side of the square, steaming pots of Lenten soup were simmering away above a roaring log fire. The Zournades had also arrived to warm up the audience. Despite the cold weather and the overcast sky, everyone was in high spirits

It didn’t take long before the square was heaving with people. For the first time since arriving in Sochos, I noticed a large contingent of visitors here to observe the events. They seemed to be visiting Greeks. They only revealed themselves as outsiders by their requests to be photographed next to a passing Koudounoforoi.

Just before midday, the event compère appeared with a microphone in hand. She welcomed everyone to Sochos, and soon, the dancing began. The dance troupes were identified by their very distinctive costumes. Taking part were the Cultural Dance Group of Sochos, the Women’s Folklore Group of Sochos, the Public Benefit Association of St Christopher of Sochos, the Cultural Association of Serres Mountain and beneficiaries of the local mental health and disability unit, making an inclusive event.

First up were the cultural groups from Sochos, who took to the square accompanied by the Zournades. The costumes of each dancer had a beautiful simplicity, each with slight variations in colour and style. What came through was a strong identity that bound them together as a community.

Next it was the turn of the Cultural Association of Serres Mountain. The red, black and white costumes were truly stunning. The women’s traditional dress was multilayered, starting with a white embroidered cotton underdress. The following layers consisted of a red embroidered dress, a red velvet jacket and an exquisitely woven wool apron. A black wool felt jacket known as a segouni was worn belted or unbelted.

The headwear came in two types – a red floral scarf or a small fez-type hat worn with a long, white fringed scarf. Finally, the costumes were adorned with traditional jewellery of chains of coins worn around the neck or waist and in some cases, a traditional silver buckle. The men’s costumes were equally splendid. A white cotton tunic with a red sash woven in a similar fabric as the women’s apron, topped with a black or red velvet waistcoat. The knitted woollen socks and the traditional leather footwear were very special!

Once the audience had shown their appreciation for the troupe from Serres Mountain, the Cultural Groups of Sochos came back with more of their traditional dances. This time, they were joined by the local children, who wore their costumes with so much pride and danced with a confidence that seemed to defy their age.

After the traditional dances finished, it was time to get more of an insight into the customs of the Koudounoforoi. The compère carried out a brief interview with some of them – not that I understood what was being said but I got the gist. This was followed by a demonstration of the ritual dressing which detailed each piece of the Koudounouforoi garb. Starting with the base layer of a white cotton shirt trimmed with red embroidery, each layer was added with reverence. The goat skin trousers and vest came next, followed by the attachment of the bells via long elaborate straps that crossed over the shoulders and around the waist. This ensured the weight of the bells was distributed evenly across the torso. A red scarf was then placed around his neck. Finally, the Kalpaki, the distinctive piece of headwear with a horse hair moustache, was placed on his head and secured with a fastening at the back. This is the element that makes the Koudounoforoi so recogniseable and to some, pretty fearsome. Finally, the final accessories were added – a shepherd’s crook and the obligatory bottle of tsiporou (or two)!

I must admit, it was still strange to see young children carrying bottles of tsiporou. I’m not suggesting for one minute that they were drinking it and it could have indeed been water (or not), but this is their custom, and I’m not judging.

One thing that comes through very strongly is there is a huge sense of pride to become a Koudounouforoi. It is something that is passed down the generations and even the children, carried out their bell-bearing duties with such diligence. Even when they weren’t being supervised by an adult, they circled the streets, making all the signature moves that was expected of them. I’m sure this is character building and instills in the children a sense of responsibility.

Not only is being a Koudounouforoi a kind of status symbol, but there are also some perks to it. I was told by Vicky that, especially in the past, the young men of the village used the disguise of the costume to declare their affections to a love interest. If she was interested, then their identity could be revealed. If not, no harm done and their pride could still be left intact. This is the kind of thing that romance stories are made of!

After more dancing came a tradition known as the custom of forgiveness, which in the local dialect is called Prostavani. This is where the younger people give oranges to the elders whilst kissing their hands and asking for forgiveness. This enables them to move on to the period of Lent and fasting.

Alongside this was another custom known as ‘the sharing of the pie’. Sweet pie and halva were handed out as an offering in memory of the dead. The Lenten soup in the large steaming pots accompanied by wedges of Lagana bread were also being circulated.

The events in the square continued with what seemed to be a random appearance of a group of men dressed as chickens. I can only assume that this was a reference to Easter. With so many different activities taking place, it was at times difficult to fathom what was happening, especially to an outsider like me. Things became a bit more orderly as a group of young girls took centre stage to do a couple of hip-hop dance routines.

It was close to 3.15pm. Time to move from my prime spot on top of the church wall to the cobbled street behind. A crowd had already begun to amass.

In addition to the parade of the Koudounouforoi, another wedding was to take place. The bride and groom, accompanied by their wedding party, were at the front ready to lead the group to the square.

Behind the wedding party, Koudounoufori from across the generations had gathered. There were bandana-wearing babes-in-arms Bell Bearers alongside kindergarten Koudounoufori. Adolescent and fully grown adult Koudounoufori of both genders were all waiting in anticipation. From the balcony of the Episkopi, the priest kept a watchful eye over the proceedings.

The atmosphere was electric, and the Tsiporou was flowing readily as bottles were passed around to anyone who wanted to partake – children excluded! Eventually, the wedding party moved off towards the square.

The momentum began to build as the Koudounouforoi organised themselves into smaller groups with most of the little ones and their parents at the front. The signal was given for the children to go, and off they marched, accompanied by proud family members videoing the event for posterity.

Now the main contingent of bell bearers (it seemed like hundreds) presented themselves to the waiting crowds and moved towards the square. There was a noticeable change in dynamic as the parade progressed. The imposing figures of so many Koudounoufori gathered en masse exuded a powerful sense of presence. They began to jump and dance in their inimitable style. Some even staggered a little, I dare say fuelled by tsiporou. One particular move saw them throw one arm into the air whilst stepping from foot to foot to sound the bells. The large copper bells sent out deep, throaty clangs on each jump and seemed to reverberate through every part of my body. The smaller and higher-pitched bells created a cacophony of ear-piercing jangles. At other times, they would job their shepherd’s crook towards the sky as if to invoke the gods of fertility and command a generous blessing for the coming year. This felt as primeval as yesterday’s pagan style celebrations.

Their signature move is the dipping and flicking of the Kalpaki, the tall, straw-filled headwear with a cascade of rainbow colour ribbons and fur tail. It is a move that could feel intimidating as a black fur mass comes hurtling towards you, but it is viewed as a form of greeting. Some bell-bearers were far more forceful in the way they did this than others, and was always guaranteed to catch people unawares.

By now, the cobbled street had become overwhelmed with bystanders. Everyone was vying for position to get a good view and I began to feel a bit swamped by the crowd. I then remembered that I had an unfettered view from the apartment. I beat a hasty retreat inside and flung open the window to watch. It was a good call.

What a parade. I hadn’t seen anything quite like it! The crowds on the cobbled street dispersed and made their way into the square or down into the side streets where there were more bars. Now was the time for the Koudounouforoi to celebrate. Not that they hadn’t been ‘celebrating’ beforehand but now with their Kalpaki cast aside, they could enjoy the festivities.

I don’t know what had happened to the chickens since I saw them earlier in the square, but whatever it was, just one thing comes to mind. Carnage! And a lot of fun!