Songs of the lake

     Kastoria, named after Jupiter’s son Kastora, is a beautiful city in Northern Greece. It was from here that Alexander the Great began to join the rest of the states, which made up the whole Macedonian state. Located on a promontory, it is known mostly for its Byzantine flavor: With over 150 Byzantine churches, the eminent Belgian scholar, Henri Gregoire, said that “the city can write the History of Byzantine art itself.”

     Then, there is the lake: a true feast for the eyes of any resident in the Macedonian area, whose closest proximity to the sea lies in Thessaloniki, 165 kilometers from the limestone mountains that surround this valley. After all, when the name of Kastoria pops up in the writings of the historian Prokopios, in 6 A.D, his point of reference is the lake and not the city. And there is of course is the claim that the city was named after the beavers -kastores-thriving in the lake.

    What is lesser known, and even startling for the local residents, is that they are inhabiting an area of far greater importance: the rise of the Neolithic culture that took place on the southern shores of the quiet lake, which set the foundations for the evolution of mankind.

     Part of the reason of this local ignorance is perhaps because the Neolithic village, built right on the lake, was unearthed only in the 1930s, when a road was being constructed that was to connect Dispilio with Kastoria.

     Another reason is perhaps because Greek people are so accustomed to living among the ghosts of history that they have become immune to its revelations. But the truth remains in that their stories unravel side by side with the first collective effort of mankind to form a community, and make the transition from caveman to village dweller.

     So begins our journey to the “Culture of Water” as Greek professor G.H. Hourmouziadis, author of “Dispilio: Notes on a visit” calls it. We walk on the drawbridge that leads to the huts by the water. The bridge was lifted when the residents desired isolation from the outside world. Today, it is the link to the steps that lead to the huts, where 3,000 villagers lived. The dwellings were made by cutting the abundant tree trunks from the nearby forests, which, in turn, were made into posts, mixed with mud and clay and latticework. They are now reconstructed and stand before the visitor in various stages of their building.

     As the voice of the guide drones on, sputtering valuable information, we suddenly feel the peace, order, and origins of our destiny rushing into our bloodstream, and we wish to be silent, alone, lost in the heart of our ancestors. And yet we need to know how they lived, how they came upon this jewel of a shore, and what made them desire, or need this transition.

     Before this move, Paleolithic people roamed the woods that surrounded the lake, hunted, and picked the abundant fruit from the trees. They lived in caves and had no organized way of conducting their lives. So, in a sense, they lived precariously. They were a society of gathering and hunting, of hushed voices in the depth of dark caves planning the next hunting expedition. Somehow, that came to an end during the 7^th millennium.

     The lure of the lake was now stronger: They knew there was plenty of fish, so they became fishermen. A boat, dating back to 4,000 B.C, is unearthed, testifying to the new multiple roles of the ex-caveman: boatman, fisherman, farmer, hunter. They could fish and nourish themselves with the rich trout and other fish that dwelled in the lake, but it would not be their sole means of food and livelihood: they became farmers and owned cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, ducks. And, of course, they were able to hunt in the thick forests. This variation of activity made it possible for them to gather on the lake shores and build a community. As a result, they went from being at the mercy of trapping wild animals and roaming the forests, to being the respectable homeowners, with multiple sources of food and permanent shelter.

    This increased stability and productivity created a surplus which led to dabbling in commerce, the first of its kind: storing what was left, and bartering it for something else. The first world market sees the light, as they travel with their products to other communities and show their rich variety of fruit, meat and fish. Traveling, communication and intrigue pervaded their lives, and there was no turning back. Little by little, one step leads to another discovery. If the transition was painless, and no transition ever is, either historically or on a more personal note, it started to pay off. The dilemmas, which forced them to brainstorm and do some creative thinking ranged from the critical to the comical: how, for instance, could the extra produce be stored away in a safe place, out of the reach of those ravenous Neolithic cats?

     We try to take in the chronological gap between our millennium and theirs: 7,500 years have passed: what has remained? Mercifully, the mud of the lake has preserved all the tools, materials, fragments of home dwellings, ovens, hearths, even remains of a fire! Over 2,000 wooden poles alone were preserved. Sadly, after the wood is exposed to light, it starts to disintegrate  since Greek archaeologists have not found a way to preserve it, once it’s exposed. This is one of the oldest villages in Europe, and it signifies man’s constant search to find solutions to survival; having ensured it, to turn to the tending of his soul, spirit, and the enjoyment of his everyday routine.

    If you close your eyes while contemplating this lost, endearing world, you may be able to see a Neolithic craftsman, making an ax right over there, by a roaring fire. Or someone else, painting a piece of jewelry, or the pottery. His neighbor carving a female statue of a goddess, perhaps to appease the fierce elements of the water or the weather that stopped them from roaming the woods, or exploring the lake. Since metals had not yet been discovered, stone is the main material: stone mills, pestles, sickles, are all practical tools that attest to cultivation, and harvesting of the carbonated grain that was also discovered. Besides stone, bone, clay and wood are the predominant means that support, shape, and preserve the Neolithic lifestyle. It also points to the complexity of roles the villagers held: each tool points to trades: fisherman, hunter, farmer, carpenter, needle-worker, builder, artist.

The spark of creativity was alive in them, as it is in all of us. After they built their huts and grew confident in their multiple sources of food, they were able to pay heed to their artistic talents: that’s why two flutes made from bird bone, one of the oldest in Europe, were among the most important findings: as long as daylight lasted, they were out there, fishing, hunting, tending their animals, sowing their fields. But when darkness fell, they made love, pondered on the mysteries of the universe which spoke to them in unpredictable ways, and made music to soothe and delight their soul.

     They carved statues to explain the powers that were at play in their lives and they could not control, and sat around their fire in the cold months, trying to heal a wound by adding healing herbs they had gathered in the warmer seasons, and now were hanging on their walls all dry and medicinal.

    The findings dispel the myth of the wild man who roamed the countryside aimlessly, at the mercy of his/her environment. The origins of man reveal a soul yearning for communication. An inscription was unearthed, dating back to 5,260 B.C, revealing the first attempts at writing. Despite its undecipherable contents, it testifies once more to the fact that a way of writing was discovered, that saw the advent of the Greek alphabet.

    In the end, after the explanations are given, the historical background set, the modern day traveler can pull up his drawbridge too, sit on the edge of the lake, and dangle his feet carelessly as thee little child, now seven millenniums old, would have done. Or perhaps the Neolithic cat might come near, beckoning for a fish bone. And, maybe, in the stillness of the water, one can hear the music of the flute.