3 Ladies of Madaro

Upon arriving in Madaro and exiting our cars, the only sounds to be heard were birds chirping, a gentle breeze rustling leaves and goats bleating. Almost immediately we were met by a lady that Vasilis seemed to know well.

I assumed this to be Eftalia, the woman whose name we had found on an envelope addressed to Julie's father, but she turned out to be Ermioni Migiakis.

Based on the last name, she is probably a more direct relative to Julie than Eftalia, but to some extent this is just playing connect the dots on my part.

Another woman dressed in black arrived. She took control with the air of being the proud civic leader of her community. I assumed this must be Eftalia, but she turned out to be Ermioni's sister, Heraklia.

We were directed into her house, where we looked through photos and chatted about family history. Vasilis always interpretted everything to make the conversation possible, filtering out extraneous phrasing from what I could tell, while adding his own insights. Before long the sisters were serving us Greek coffee, goat cheese and bread, rich with flavors of the area. The sisters were wonderful hostesses.

A few moments before the distinctive thick, sweet Greek coffee arrived, the third lady of Madaro arrived. This indeed was Eftalia. When the coffee and snacks arrived, she became quite animated. Vasilis translated that she was upset because we were her guests, and it was she who was to feed us. Heraklia countered that she always hosted any Migiakis who visited from anywhere in the world.

With a smile on her face, she pretended to hit Vasilis with her cane, and she cuffed me on the back of the neck before hugging me. The best I can make out, she had been waiting for us for a few days, possibly believing we were supposed to have arrived on the day our cruise embarked from Rome. In any case, when we headed to her house, she had a giant bowl of refrigerated cooked goat and chicken for us to eat. It was tasty, but we were already full from the cheese and bread.

She proudly showed us the room where Julie's dad had stayed, and the bed where he slept. Like the sisters, she seemed immediately connected to my son Jay. He probably reminded them of young men who had left the village to move out into the world, and of course his naturally sweet disposition is always appealing, especially to seniors. Who can help but be humbled by such generous women so ready to share their food and homes with strangers, especially in light of the fact that our little band of visitors probably doubled the population of their village?

The Road to Madaro

Sisters Julie, Cheryl and Jacque with their families in July, 2007.

When we returned from a summer cruise to the Greek Isles almost four years ago, I wrote an article about Julie and her sisters visiting Chania, Crete, to see the area where their Grandpa Nick had grown up.

A few weeks later, I received this e-mail:

Dear Wes:

It is with great interest and curiosity that I read about your trip to Madaro, a small Cretan village south of Chania (Hania) on the island of Crete. You see, during my lunch break yesterday, I decided to “google” the village that my grandfather hailed from “Madaro”. Consequently, I came upon your blog. My name is Harold Migias. My grandfather was Haralambos Migiakis aka Charalambos Miyiakis aka “Harry Migias” upon his arrival at Ellis Island in 1912 with his cousin Joseph “Iosif” Birakis. I visited Madaro in 1996.

Road to Madaro in July, 2007.

How does your family fit into the Migiakis-Birakis family tree? As I recall from my visit, those are the only two families up there.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Harold Migias (son of John Migias)


Sorting through family trees, Harold determined his grandfather was the first cousin of Julie's grandfather, but their last names had been altered differently at Ellis Island.

Julie's father, John Megas, had visited Chania and Madaro about ten years before Harold had, and it was his stories of the warm hospitality of his distant cousins including Eftalia Birakis that planted in Julie the idea of hooking up with relatives on Crete.

Amy in taxi to Chania in July, 2007.

For the previous trip, Julie's sister had tried to contact Eftalia before we arrived on Crete but unfortunately could not. After making phone contact through a taxi driver while in Chania, however, we did start sending letters translated by internet programs to Eftalia in case we tried again. It was never quite clear how we would actually communicate once we were there, but when we found a cruise spending a full day in Chania, Harold brought us the solution.

He had met Nikolaos Mygiakis, a younger member of the family in Chania, on his trip to Crete, and Nikos knows how to speak English. We suddenly had someone of our generation as a connection in Crete. As luck would have it, Nikos would be forced to work on the day we arrived, but he introduced us by e-mail to his brother, Vasilis.

Road to Madaro in May, 2011.

Vasilis proved to be a Godsend. He set up a meeting place near Souda Harbor. We worried if he knew the exact pier for our ship and if we would find our meeting spot. We worried he may not show up at all for "cousins" whom, after all, he had never heard of until a few weeks earlier. We arrived a few minutes early and scouted out the area to be sure we were in the right place.

Aunt Ermioni and Cousin Vasilis upon arrival in Madaro, 2011.

Right on schedule, Vasilis arrived in his car, and he had a Mercedes taxi following him to drive the other three of us up to Madaro. He spoke English fluently, and the taxi driver could understand most of what we said. A palpable spark of excitement said, "This is actually going to work!"