Bilgehan Uçak wrote: In Dimitsana with Herkül Millas

The fortunes of some places are enhanced by their misery.

Generations of poverty prevent people from “hammering in a nail.”

One day, years later, that “unspoiledness” becomes the village’s greatest asset.

This rule has not changed in Dimitsana; years of poverty have carried this historic village in the middle of the Peloponnese Peninsula to the present day.

I spent one night in Dimitsana; as we set off at dawn to catch the ferry to Zakynthos, I was a little sad because I would have loved to have spent more than one day with our hosts, the lovely Herkül and Evi Millas.

I first read the name of the village in Hercules Millas ' book , National Myths in Greece .

The reason why Dimitsana has such a huge fame and influence in Greek history is that most of the ecumenical Patriarchs in Istanbul were educated there.

The most famous of these is, of course, Gregory V, who was hanged in Istanbul after the 1821 Morea Revolt and declared a “national martyr”—that is, someone who suffered and died for his country—by the Church of Greece in 1921.

The extent to which this narrative aligns with the truth is highly questionable .

Millas writes in his book: “On the other hand, a small number of Greeks have different views on this matter: they claim that Gregory was against the Revolution, reminding us that the Patriarchate condemned and even excommunicated the revolutionaries. Greeks who support Gregory, on the other hand, admit that the revolutionaries were ‘condemned,’ but that this was done under duress and threats from Ottoman authorities, or that it was deemed necessary to save the lives of Christians living in Ottoman lands from the risk of a pogrom…”

One way or another, the fact that Grigorius is from Dimitsana elevates him to the status of the “national hero” of this village, as well as the “national martyr” of the country.

Even though Dimitsana is a village consisting of only one street and a few alleys, it is possible to feel the shadow of Grigorius everywhere in the village.

My greatest fortune was to travel around Dimitsana under the guidance of Hercules Millas.

When the Millas couple bought a house here in 1983, they earned the title of being the first people from outside the village to settle here.

The funny thing is that even after all these years, the villager still says "the man who took the priest's house" instead of saying Hercules Millas' name.

As soon as Millas started showing me around the village with an agility that made me feel older than him each time, I regretted having to spend a night here.

Of course our first stop was Grigorius' house, now converted into a chapel.

We could take a quick look at the house and then leave, but the weather is hot and the building is quite cool because it's made of stone; well, since we've come this far, let's take a breather and let me tell you about the superstition called the "secret school."

I am summarizing from Millas: Since Greece gained its independence against the Ottomans in 1821, this opposition has an important place in the formation of its national identity.

On the other hand, no matter how much they try to cover it up in official history, there were hundreds of years under Ottoman rule.

If Ottoman rule was as terrible as it is portrayed, how come Greeks continued to speak Greek and pass on their national consciousness from generation to generation, even in the 19th century?

The answer of the official historians is very simple: Thanks to the secret schools!

What is this thing called "secret school"?

It was like this - let's read from Herkül Millas: "According to this myth, widely known in Greece, during the Ottoman rule, Greek priests and monks were educating young children in secret schools because the 'Turks' had forbidden the teaching of Greek."

The painting "The Secret School" by Nikolaos Gyzis, made in 1886, is cited as one of the greatest pieces of evidence.

In this painting, which depicts a bearded old man teaching children, there is also a Greek warrior protecting the school against a possible attack by the Turks.

With a simple question, Millas shatters the entire official historical narrative.

Why would there be a need for a Secret School when the Greek language school in Dimitsana was never closed?

1. No historical records have been found documenting any such schools—neither their existence nor their prohibitions. 2. Since the Ottoman Empire permitted the existence of the Greeks as a 'millet,' that is, as a distinct religious group, there was no point in banning Greek/Christian schools. 3. The existence of numerous Greek-language schools in the Ottoman Empire is documented.

I was going to say that one of these “secret schools” was in Dimitsana… but then the story gets even more complicated.

When the Millases first moved in, he says, “an old man who volunteered to guide visitors” told them “the story of the Hidden School, pointing to a cave on the hill south of the village.”

A decade later, whoever needed it and why, decided to relocate the school - as you know, tradition is invented.

"This time, the old guide pointed to the abandoned 10th-century ruin known as the Old Philosopher's Monastery as the school's location. The new location is about eight kilometers from the original."

Nowadays, many signs have been erected about the Hidden School in Dimitsana and the road has been paved, so everyone who visits the village cannot leave without stopping by here.

Thus, while no trace of the school that was open in Dimitsana and whose language of instruction was Greek has survived to this day, the existence of the “secret school” that no one knew about has become indisputable.

Well, look for the truth in this thing called official history and you will find it.

If you're rested, let's get up and walk a little more.

Hercules Millas led us through stone streets and stone buildings that could reach up to five stories high, and stopped in front of a house.

He asked about the architectural significance of the building, and we bowed our heads in shame, like students who couldn't answer a question in an exam.

"Don't look at the floors because they're all being standardized now. It's easier for women, especially, to walk on these surfaces, but I preferred the old stone pavement. Our house's path, for example, is still the same as before; we haven't changed it. So, tell me, what catches your eye about this building's architecture?"

When he saw that we were not going to respond, he continued:

"The ones at the bottom are the oldest stones in Dimitsana. The ones above that are from the Middle Ages. At the top, the stones are gone; technology has changed, and concrete has arrived. You can see all the changes in Dimitsana in this building."

It turns out that Herkül Millas participated in the photography competition in Dimitsana with a photo he took from the exact angle we were standing at.

We visited the school and the library; we walked and walked along the stone streets of Dimitsana.

Every time we entered a new street and saw a new stone building, I thought to myself, "It's a good thing we came here to be the guests of the man who bought the priest's house."

Let the priest's house be the subject of the next article.