The most famous of the traditional Carnival celebrations takes place on the island of Skyros. By far the most important and striking figure of the carnivals that make an appearance there is the yeros, or “old man.”
The costume of the yeros is very elaborate. It is basically the traditional clothing of an island shepherd: wooden clogs, the black woolen shepherd’s jacket with a hood, with the inside or furry part outside; long, white, loose-fitting, woolen pants; white leggings fastened with black garters and laced shepherd’s sandals. However, under his jacket at the back, the yeros stuffs a pillow to give it the appearance of a hump. Her belt is attached to the front by means of a scarf.
Over his face, the yeros wears a mask with two eye holes, made from the skin of a child, either one stillborn or too weak to survive. The skin is tied by its hind legs behind the wearer’s head, and the animal’s head hangs over its face and chest. Holes are cut for the eyes, but not for the nose or mouth. Since the skins are likely to have a very strong odor, they are often sprayed with ouzo.
Long white ropes of goat hair are crossed over the shoulders, knotted at the back. Goat bells hang from them. These are of three different types, each of which has its own range of sounds. Although each bell is unique, a shepherd could recognize his goats individually by the sound of the bells they carried, and it is said that from the cacophony made by a moving herd, he could spot a single missing bell. Wooden necklaces with bell rings are threaded onto the ropes and fastened with loop knots at a suitable distance from each other. These are placed in two series, with the largest at the back. The arrangement of the hoods is done very carefully with two considerations in mind. The first is that they will not harm the user while swinging, and the second is determined by the different sounds produced by different bell arrangements.
If the bearer is strong, he can carry as many as seventy or eighty rattles, depending on his strength and endurance; although thirty to forty, perhaps forty or fifty kilos, is more common. For balance, and also to taunt and taunt the onlookers, he carries a shepherd’s crook. Fresh cut wildflowers decorating the bonnet, chest and crook complete his remarkable outfit.
Not surprisingly, it is very difficult to move in this strange costume, and the first few steps you take will determine whether or not you will have to straighten it completely. Traditionally, six “steps” are recognized with which the yeros travels through the town. Some seem to be designed to allow for mobility and others to help you create as much cacophony as possible with your bells. Thus a yeros occasionally stops, whether alone or in a group, standing with his legs firmly apart and his staff stuck into the ground in front to steady him. She then leans back and forth from the waist, simultaneously shaking her shoulders. The result is an incredible roar.
The bells of the yeros are like a local dance. Can everyone dance well? The yeros must be… an artisan or an expert, his steps must be… bouncy or elastic; he must calculate so that the sound… has the correct rhythm and… thunders or rumbles correctly… The rare yeri are famous throughout the island. One such, yeri was supposed to be anonymous, the occasion was frequently used to settle old scores over stolen animals, or animals believed to have been stolen, grazing rights, the disputed results of card games, and women. The deadliest insult that could be done to a yeros was to cut the ropes that held their bells. Outbursts of fighting, sometimes between large crowds of yeroi and their followers, were common.
During the 20th century the atmosphere melted. With the decline of pastoralism and large-scale emigration from the island, there are fewer yeroi. Such is the strength and stamina required to be a yeros, for long strongmen embraced the role, whatever their occupation, borrowing the bells of herdsmen unable to act as yeroi themselves. Hundreds of yeroi once appeared in the city on the last two Sundays of Apokreas, whereas now they only number in the dozens. However, every year the men still return to their home island from Athens to participate in these festivities. But, as Joy Coulentianou points out, these citizens are neither as rough nor as tough as their ancestors.
Today revelers also wear the ubiquitous plastic masks, and children dress up in fancy dress, just like in other parts of Greece. The younger boys, would-be yeroi, walk the streets with goat cowbells strapped to their waists. Today’s women sometimes take the role of korella, or even, on occasion, yeros.
The islanders tell a curious and singularly unconvincing story to explain the strange appearance of the “goat dancers”. It is said that many years ago there was a particularly cold winter, and snow fell on the ground for several weeks. When a goatherd went out to retrieve his animals after the thaw, he found them all dead. He then entered the town, accompanied by her raggedly dressed wife, with all the valuable sheep and goat bells tied to her waist. On that day, for the next year, someone recreated the scene, and the practice grew in popularity.
Clearly, however, the Skyros goat dancers are a local version of the carnival figures found throughout the north. In any case, there are many tantalizing traces of a close connection between this rite and the cult of Dionysus. In ancient times, the goats of Skyros were proverbial for their productivity, being praised for it in Pindar’s odes, for which a particularly productive person was known as a “goat of Skyros”. The Aegean king, from whom the Aegean took his name (the name is said to mean “goat”), was believed to have thrown himself to his death into the sea which took its name from the cliffs of Cape Sounion. His son Theseus is believed to have suffered a similar but unintended fate on Skyros, being pushed by a treacherous army off a cliff.
The goat was the animal most commonly associated with Dionysus, who is frequently depicted in art with satyrs, or goat-men, as his attendants. According to myth, the god was disguised in childhood as a boy and raised by nymphs to escape Hera’s wrath, and raised disguised as a girl. Similarly, Achilles was sent by his mother, Thetis, to Skyros, to be raised as a girl, in a vain attempt to prevent him from going down in the Trojan War. The korella shows that cross-dressing plays an important role in the Skyrian carnival. Although part of the general pattern observed in northern Greece, this is evidence of an ancient cult of Dionysus as a goat-god on Skyros, traces of which have survived to this day.