Mastodon
Animal skins, bells, ritual chaos: Ancient burnout remedy is still at the heart of Greece’s carnival
DISTOMO, Greece (AP) — In the mountain village of Distomo, the “Koudounaraioi” — literally, the “Bell People” — transform themselves into half-human, half-beast revelers in a ritual dating back to pre-Christian times.

DISTOMO, Greece (AP) — Feeling overwhelmed by everyday obligations or doom-scrolling? The ancient Greeks had a remedy for burnout still practiced annually by their rural descendants.

In the mountain village of Distomo, the “Koudounaraioi” — literally, the “Bell People” — transform themselves into half-human, half-beast revelers in a ritual dating back to pre-Christian times.

Clad in sheep and goatskins with heavy hand-forged bronze bells chained to their waists, the Bell People danced through the streets Monday of this red-roofed village, a two-hour drive northwest of Athens.


The deafening clatter the dancers make and their profanity-filled chants as they bound around a fire in the main square are a wine-fueled sonic assault. And that’s the point.

Hedonistic carnival traditions across the Greek heartland and islands trace back to the ecstatic processions in ancient times honoring Dionysus, the god of wine, fertility and revelry and were then, as now, a cultural pressure valve.

“We give society a jolt … and try to take away their misfortunes, their problems, to lift their spirits so they can feel something,” said Giorgos Papaioannou, a 29-year-old aluminum plant worker known during carnival as president of Distomo’s Bell People.

“We even visit cemeteries, making noise to ‘wake up’ the souls of those who have passed, reminding them and the living alike that we are here, celebrating life,” he said.

The ancient tradition practiced by farming communities to usher in spring was eventually incorporated into the Christian calendar. Monday marks the end of carnival and the start of Lent, a period of dietary restrictions and increased religious observance before Easter, which this year falls on April 20.

Distomo is known to Greeks as a symbol of wartime hardship. In June 1944, occupying Nazi forces slaughtered 230 civilian villagers, including more than 50 children in reprisals for attacks by resistance fighters.


An austerely-styled World War II mausoleum overlooks the village.

“After the massacre, we managed to keep the tradition alive. It’s to awaken the spring,” Distomo Mayor Ioannis Stathas said. “This is a tradition that is many centuries old, a pre-Christian tradition, and it has been carried from generation to generation.”

This year’s Bell People, many of them schoolchildren, held up flares and olive-wood staffs as they entered the village, trailed by giggling children and their parents dressed up as dinosaurs, police officers and other carnival costumes.

Revelers were handed plastic cups filled with wine and portions of bean soup, as children danced to a mix of Greek folk music, Western chart hits and K-pop.

Amalia Papaioannou, a historian and curator of the Distomo Museum, said that the once male-dominated celebrations have remained relevant by incorporating pieces of modernity but remain rooted in rural traditions.

Agrarian societies, historically reliant on favorable conditions in nature for their survival, created these rituals to ward off evil and misfortune, she said. Carnival revelry has for centuries served as a sanctioned period of chaos before returning to structure and restraint.

“It allows a brief period of social inversion: People wear disguises, and speech, including crude jokes, is temporarily liberated. Even the Church historically tolerated such festivities, recognizing their deep-rooted cultural and communal significance,” she said.


“You could call it a reset.”

___

Lefteris Pitarakis contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
Be part of the one percent
You may have noticed, you never hit a paywall when you come to our site. That's by design. We keep our journalism and commentary free for all to read because we believe, especially today, that everyone deserves access to fair, thoughtful, inclusive coverage of the world's religions.
As a nonprofit, though, we also depend on the generosity of readers to support our work. Today, far fewer than 1 percent of the 500,000+ people who visit this site in an average month are also donors. But if just a few of the you who read all the way to the bottom of this note decide to join us as supporters, we'd be sure to have the resources to continue, and expand, our journalism.
So if you value this kind of reporting, we ask you to consider making a gift today. Be part of the one percent and help ensure our reporting is always there for those who depend on it.
Deborah Caldwell, CEO and Publisher
Donate today