🇬🇧 1. Our Neighborhood Once, the neighborhood was full of life. Children’s voices echoed through the alleys, the cobbler’s hammer rang from across the street… Read more: The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. People greeted each other by their first names and knew who was in need before they even said it. Eugia is not a museum. It is an invitation — to breathe in the light of this place again, not by reenacting the past, but by transforming it in new ways. If every neighborhood had its own little corner — a page, a photo, a screening, a veggera — perhaps the village could find its pulse once more. In Eugia, every evening is an act of freedom. There are no recipes, only intentions. We share, we meet, we listen. Meaning is not preached. Perhaps, one day, a seed is planted. It may sprout, it may not. Perhaps it doesn't even need to. “Reach where you cannot.” Perhaps that’s where freedom begins. But in order to truly meet one another, we must also look at the past with clear eyes. Not only its joys — like the feasts of another era — but also the wounds it leaves behind, the entrenched behaviors, the unspoken roles we carry. Gun culture, egotism, cups that divide instead of uniting. Nationalism — Greek, Cretan, familial, individual — forms of identity that separate. All of it passes down silently, perhaps even genetically. It's worth revisiting through the stories and faces of another time. 🇬🇧 2. How Eugia Began Eugia emerged as an idea on a scorching summer day. Read more: One of those days when the heat is unbearable, making you irritable and tense, when you seek a bit of sea breeze… but have no access to it, because those managing the "development" of the area reserve it for their clients. And you, as a “non-client,” are unwelcome. You can’t swim in the sea, can’t walk the shore, can’t breathe fresh air — only the scent of sewage treatment. You return to your village. The neighborhood lies deserted. “Clients” drag suitcases. “Clients” yell from the pools. Real estate agents scout opportunities for their own clients. “I’ll put up a sign outside my house for the ‘client’ walking through the neighborhood,” you think. “Every time you come, you take a piece of my space away,” the sign will read. And it’s as if the dystopian experiment Universe 25 has already begun. And then another thought — what if that “client” wasn’t just a tourist, but a visitor? We’ve always loved visitors — especially the unexpected ones. Visitors who respect the host’s space, who don’t trample it. What if they had a way to truly get to know the neighborhood, the place hosting them? And what if the locals could get to know the visitors a bit better too? Eugia started as an initiative to reflect on our land — not just to remember it, but to meet again. Residents, guests, friends, relatives — new and old. There is no organization, no funding. Only the desire to give meaning again to words like “neighborhood,” “sharing,” and “encounter.” Every page, every video, every photo, every evening is a seed. It may fall into the soil and remain there. It may sprout. We don’t control it — nor do we need to. What matters is the intention and the freedom with which we cultivate it. We’re inspired by those who walk forward without needing validation or clinging to the outcome. “Never stoop to ask: ‘Shall we win? Shall we lose?’ Fight!” — N. Kazantzakis If you'd like to take part, host your own veggera or get in touch. There are no formal invitations here — the door is open. 🇬🇧 3. Where Eugia Is Located Eugia is in Kournas — a neighborhood full of soul and stories. Read more: Its courtyards used to smell of whitewash and indigo. Neighbors called each other by name and held veggeres in the summer evenings. Thousands of stories have echoed through these streets — and some we’re still searching for. Eugia is a knot between then and now. Between what fades away and what’s worth keeping. 🇬🇧 4. Why “Eugia”? Because of the old Cretan word “evgiasene”! Read more: “Eugia” is the local version of the word evdia — a term from the depths of the Greek language, passed on through poetry and everyday speech. < ευ-διF-ᾱ A compound of ev (good) and an old form of day Related to: Zeus → DiFos → dios (divine), and the Sanskrit su-divam — “beautiful day” It holds within it both light and wellness: Clear skies, calmness, inner clarity, physical well-being. From ancient Greek texts: “ἐκ χειμῶνος εὐδία” — Pindar “ἐν εὐδίᾳ γὰρ ὁρῶ ὑμᾱς” — Aeschylus “σαρκὸς εὐδία”, “εἰς ἔμ᾿ εὐδίαν ἔχων” And from our elders: “evgiasene, let’s go to the olive trees” “tomorrow will be evgia” “still hasn’t evgiased yet” “three days of evgia coming…” Phrases heard less and less, but etched in memory. “The shoulders of the day lean into the sun’s evdia” “Ἄνε ου ήλιου τους” — Odysseas Elytis 🇬🇧 5. 🌿 Evgiasene Eugia is not just a space. It is an intention — a radical one. Read more: To become a vessel for thoughts, feelings, doubts, objections, insights, humor, and talents from the people around her. And in turn, to reflect these back as a mirror to the soul. There is no program. There is no “right way.” There is only the mood for sharing, and the gentle power of curiosity. 🇬🇧 6. The Gift of Participation A quiet smile and a lump in the throat — sometimes bringing fear, sometimes surprising strength. Read more: They’ve turned you into a painter, a rhymester, a musician, a teacher, a secretary, a vine philosopher. (Humor and self-irony always help…) These brought you from faraway places to settle here — between Agia Varvara and Saint George. These made you return after the labyrinthine journeys of your life. Eugia does not seek to change the world. She silently upholds: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” She embraces the uniqueness of each of us and believes in miracles — in the small, unexpected awakenings in the depths of our soul.

🇬🇧 1. Our Neighborhood Once, the neighborhood was full of life. Children’s voices echoed through the alleys, the cobbler’s hammer rang from across the street… Read more: The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. People greeted each other by their first names and knew who was in need before they even said it. Eugia is not a museum. It is an invitation — to breathe in the light of this place again, not by reenacting the past, but by transforming it in new ways. If every neighborhood had its own little corner — a page, a photo, a screening, a veggera — perhaps the village could find its pulse once more. In Eugia, every evening is an act of freedom. There are no recipes, only intentions. We share, we meet, we listen. Meaning is not preached. Perhaps, one day, a seed is planted. It may sprout, it may not. Perhaps it doesn't even need to. “Reach where you cannot.” Perhaps that’s where freedom begins. But in order to truly meet one another, we must also look at the past with clear eyes. Not only its joys — like the feasts of another era — but also the wounds it leaves behind, the entrenched behaviors, the unspoken roles we carry. Gun culture, egotism, cups that divide instead of uniting. Nationalism — Greek, Cretan, familial, individual — forms of identity that separate. All of it passes down silently, perhaps even genetically. It's worth revisiting through the stories and faces of another time. 🇬🇧 2. How Eugia Began Eugia emerged as an idea on a scorching summer day. Read more: One of those days when the heat is unbearable, making you irritable and tense, when you seek a bit of sea breeze… but have no access to it, because those managing the "development" of the area reserve it for their clients. And you, as a “non-client,” are unwelcome. You can’t swim in the sea, can’t walk the shore, can’t breathe fresh air — only the scent of sewage treatment. You return to your village. The neighborhood lies deserted. “Clients” drag suitcases. “Clients” yell from the pools. Real estate agents scout opportunities for their own clients. “I’ll put up a sign outside my house for the ‘client’ walking through the neighborhood,” you think. “Every time you come, you take a piece of my space away,” the sign will read. And it’s as if the dystopian experiment Universe 25 has already begun. And then another thought — what if that “client” wasn’t just a tourist, but a visitor? We’ve always loved visitors — especially the unexpected ones. Visitors who respect the host’s space, who don’t trample it. What if they had a way to truly get to know the neighborhood, the place hosting them? And what if the locals could get to know the visitors a bit better too? Eugia started as an initiative to reflect on our land — not just to remember it, but to meet again. Residents, guests, friends, relatives — new and old. There is no organization, no funding. Only the desire to give meaning again to words like “neighborhood,” “sharing,” and “encounter.” Every page, every video, every photo, every evening is a seed. It may fall into the soil and remain there. It may sprout. We don’t control it — nor do we need to. What matters is the intention and the freedom with which we cultivate it. We’re inspired by those who walk forward without needing validation or clinging to the outcome. “Never stoop to ask: ‘Shall we win? Shall we lose?’ Fight!” — N. Kazantzakis If you'd like to take part, host your own veggera or get in touch. There are no formal invitations here — the door is open. 🇬🇧 3. Where Eugia Is Located Eugia is in Kournas — a neighborhood full of soul and stories. Read more: Its courtyards used to smell of whitewash and indigo. Neighbors called each other by name and held veggeres in the summer evenings. Thousands of stories have echoed through these streets — and some we’re still searching for. Eugia is a knot between then and now. Between what fades away and what’s worth keeping. 🇬🇧 4. Why “Eugia”? Because of the old Cretan word “evgiasene”! Read more: “Eugia” is the local version of the word evdia — a term from the depths of the Greek language, passed on through poetry and everyday speech. < ευ-διF-ᾱ A compound of ev (good) and an old form of day Related to: Zeus → DiFos → dios (divine), and the Sanskrit su-divam — “beautiful day” It holds within it both light and wellness: Clear skies, calmness, inner clarity, physical well-being. From ancient Greek texts: “ἐκ χειμῶνος εὐδία” — Pindar “ἐν εὐδίᾳ γὰρ ὁρῶ ὑμᾱς” — Aeschylus “σαρκὸς εὐδία”, “εἰς ἔμ᾿ εὐδίαν ἔχων” And from our elders: “evgiasene, let’s go to the olive trees” “tomorrow will be evgia” “still hasn’t evgiased yet” “three days of evgia coming…” Phrases heard less and less, but etched in memory. “The shoulders of the day lean into the sun’s evdia” “Ἄνε ου ήλιου τους” — Odysseas Elytis 🇬🇧 5. 🌿 Evgiasene Eugia is not just a space. It is an intention — a radical one. Read more: To become a vessel for thoughts, feelings, doubts, objections, insights, humor, and talents from the people around her. And in turn, to reflect these back as a mirror to the soul. There is no program. There is no “right way.” There is only the mood for sharing, and the gentle power of curiosity. 🇬🇧 6. The Gift of Participation A quiet smile and a lump in the throat — sometimes bringing fear, sometimes surprising strength. Read more: They’ve turned you into a painter, a rhymester, a musician, a teacher, a secretary, a vine philosopher. (Humor and self-irony always help…) These brought you from faraway places to settle here — between Agia Varvara and Saint George. These made you return after the labyrinthine journeys of your life. Eugia does not seek to change the world. She silently upholds: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” She embraces the uniqueness of each of us and believes in miracles — in the small, unexpected awakenings in the depths of our soul.