*By Dimitris Kyriazis
After leading a cosmopolitan life, Philippos Papadimitriou decided to settle in Agrilitsa, Argolida, and set up the initiative “Reconstruction of the Valleys of Western Argolida”, which aims to tackle the depopulation of the region’s villages. He firmly believes that our future lies in decentralisation.
Philippos Papadimitriou He was born a cosmopolitan, but he made a conscious decision to settle down and become a farmer in Agrilitsa, Argolis. As he tells us, he feels that village life came naturally to him, as for years he had been trying to escape from every city he lived in.
He is a firm believer in decentralisation and for this reason he decided to set up the NGO “The Smile of the Village”. Through this, he is spearheading the “Reconstruction of the Valleys of Western Argolida”, an initiative, in collaboration with local authorities and the municipality of Argos-Mycenae, aimed at repopulating and developing the Valleys of Western Argolida, with the aim of tackling the region’s economic and demographic decline, which is rapidly leading to depopulation. The conversation with him follows.
“I was born in Athens in May 2002. My parents worked in the Department of Economic and Commercial Affairs at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, so a few months later we moved first to Israel and then to Brussels and Beijing. In early 2010, my parents sent me back to Athens to be looked after by my mother’s parents in her hometown, Nea Filadelfia.
“It’s good to be cosmopolitan, to get to know different cities and countries around the world, but I think it’s infinitely better to have your own homeland, your own place, with your own trees and your own stones.”
A few months later, my mother came too. I stayed in Athens until 2017. I remember a dirty, ugly, run-down city, where human misery was rife and the rawest emotions reigned supreme. I attended the Greek-French School in Agia Paraskevi and led a middle-class life, travelling and wanting for nothing. A comfortable life, but incredibly meaningless and boring.
In 2017, my mother was posted to Toronto, Canada, and I went with her. In early 2020, with the pandemic just around the corner, we decided overnight to take the first flight to Greece, believing that a lockdown would be imposed and that it would be better to spend it in our own country. And so it proved. The only house available at the time was our house in the village of Agrilitsa, so we had no choice but to go there. I haven’t left since.
This house grew out of my mother’s romantic desire to have our own “place” as a family. We are city folk and we’ve never felt a connection to any particular place, not even Athens. It is good to be cosmopolitan, to get to know different cities and countries around the world, but I think it is infinitely better to have your own homeland, your own place, with your own trees and your own stones. Both my parents were mainly from Asia Minor, but Asia Minor is now nothing more than a faded memory for us.
After two years of constant searching, I found our farm in Agrilitsa through an advert on the internet. This farm has 800 olive trees on 50 acres and a stone house with various outbuildings. Geographically, it is situated in the hamlet of Agrilitsa, Agia Marina, on the rocky slopes of Mount Artemisio, in a verdant yet rocky landscape featuring holly trees, olive trees and pastures, and offering a stunning view of the Xerias basin to the south.
I decided that I wanted to live in the village and not return to Athens to take up a city job – although I later discovered that it is possible to work in urban professions whilst living in a village. Until I made that decision, my aim was to study architecture – I had been accepted onto the architecture course at the University of Patras – and become an architect.
I grew up with the stereotypes that every Athenian learns about villages – that they are dirty, dangerous and inhabited by goblins. I had to live in the village to change my mind and realise that, ultimately, villages offer a very pleasant quality of life with few drawbacks, which is certainly superior to life in any Greek city. For me, the village embodies everything I love most in this world: unspoilt nature, traditional architecture, local cuisine, tranquillity and a time-honoured sense of tradition. It was therefore only natural that I should eventually settle in the village, as all my life I had been seeking to escape from every city I had lived in.
So, after I decided to live in the village, I decided to become a farmer because we had enough olive trees – and now we have many more – and it seemed the logical thing to do. Also, the fact that I am a farmer does not prevent me from working professionally in other fields.
As you can see, I am not your typical farmer. I almost always wake up late, go to bed late and have no set routine. There isn’t much work to do in the olive grove, so I don’t spend most days working with the olives. But on the days that I do work in the olive grove, I have to get up early and work all day, from dawn until sunset. There’s no time for lunch, not even for a snack. Surprisingly, when you’re working, you don’t feel tired, and it’s quite a different experience to work whilst looking at the mountains and listening to the birds chirping.
When I’m not working with olives, I’m working with animals, gardening, standardising olive oil, marketing, and so on. In my spare time, I study law – which I’m currently doing as a hobby – and I generally study everything from history to sociology and biology.
I honestly think that Agrilitsa probably offers one of the best life experiences anyone can find on this planet. The climate is hot in summer but pleasant the rest of the year and, above all, dry. In winter, it gets quite cold, which I personally enjoy; we used to have snow. Our water comes from the mountains and we enjoy absolute peace and quiet. Agrilitsa is a sparsely built village, made up of various hamlets, so the houses are spaced out and, in general, the village feels airy and open. And if you ever get bored, there are other beautiful nearby villages with lovely spots to visit.
Unfortunately, the village has no amenities apart from the primary school. However, it is only 15 minutes from Argos and 30 minutes from Nafplio, and has easy access to the motorway, so practically any need can be easily met.
My own view of culture is quite different, so I didn’t really lose out by staying here. For me, culture is what is real and honest.
It’s the olive harvest in October, it’s the stonemason, it’s the amateur street artist and respect for nature. You’ll find little shops and cafés all over the world, but you won’t find a good life everywhere. The countryside isn’t perfect, but I think it still has a sense of humanity and a harmony with nature that cities lack. However, there is also a certain luxury to village life, if that’s what one is looking for.
There are 24 Koiladochoria in total, and they belong to 8 separate “counties”, or valleys, in the mountainous and semi-mountainous areas of Argos. The common feature of these villages is that they are situated in valleys, where there is an interplay between the steep mountains and the generally gentle terrain that stretches along the rivers. The villages are built of stone – although in Malandreni there are also mud-brick buildings – and they mainly date from the late Middle Ages and the Ottoman period.
We were motivated to take action because this area, to which my village, Agrilitsa, belongs, has been experiencing a complete demographic, economic and social collapse in recent decades and is facing desertification within a decade. We believe that our countryside has two options: either it will be repopulated by new residents and will thrive, or it will decline, die and vanish, just as so many places in our country have vanished. The second option is tantamount to suicide, and I do not believe in suicide, so we decided to take action.
The first action of NGO First and foremost, it involves establishing a network of partnerships with local organisations, such as cultural associations, wineries, olive producers, tourist agencies and, more generally, anyone with a connection to the region who is keen to promote it in terms of tourism, food and culture.
Another initiative we have recently launched is the organisation of open and free events to introduce the general public to the people, products and sights of our region. Today, 3 May, we are hosting our own event, where we will explore the Colourful Plateau of Alea, the Frusiouna River and the historic main village of Bougiatio (Alea) with its rich traditional architecture and history.
Furthermore, we are trying to promote the Koiladochoria online, mainly through Instagram, and we are seeking to build partnerships with journalists and influencers to achieve this aim. Although it is a beautiful area full of attractions, so far no one has seriously taken the initiative to promote it and attract visitors, and that is truly a shame.
Our actions are largely intangible because we believe that the most important factors in the development of a region are collaboration, vision and the creation of a sense of place. Therefore, a key element in everything we do is this sense of place: to create a unified, modern yet traditional identity that reflects our villages, mountains and rivers.
In the future, we also intend to undertake practical initiatives, such as signposting hiking and cycling routes, developing handicrafts, creating climbing routes, erecting information signs and highlighting architectural monuments. Also, why not set up a co-working centre? There are endless ideas, but not endless funds, and above all, not an endless supply of people to help us.
I believe that all places have a future, as long as there are people to love them, to hurt them and to fight hard for them without fear or hesitation. Koiladochoria has long been a place without a future, without an identity and without love, but I want to believe that things have begun to change, albeit slowly. I think we are on the brink of a great revolution in our villages.
I would like to see our large villages become true centres of activity, with shops, cultural facilities, factories, high-quality tourism and a vibrant atmosphere. Ideally, small villages would become hubs for ecological, rural and medical tourism, bastions of authenticity, and produce the highest-quality agricultural produce on the planet. Our villages could be places of hope and a bright future, not of misery and neglect.
What I would also like to see are revival groups in every valley across the country, because this is what our countryside deserves – and nothing less. Every village represents a new beginning, a hope for a better life.
Decentralisation is the future, and I believe there is a force that is drawing us all back to the village. The dream of urban regeneration has come to nothing, so let us move on to a new model for ourselves and for our children. We, as Smile of the Village, are ready to help anyone who wants to take this important step, and we invite them to contact us, even if they are not interested in our region. However, if they do come to us, they will not regret it.
Source: lifo.gr