ARKOI, Greece — If you stand on the eastern shore of the island of Arkoi on a clear day, you can see Turkey in the distance.
At 170 miles (about 275 kilometers) — and many worlds — from Athens’ bustling streets and the ups and downs of a seemingly neverending financial crisis, life on Arkoi moves at a slower pace.
The island’s last census was taken in 2011, when Arkoi boasted 44 residents. Today, that number has dwindled to about half, including seven in the Kamposos family, whose youngest — the bright, brown-eyed, eight-year-old Christos — is the sole reason this little village has a school.
Minutes before the parade starts, Christos peers through his school’s open window as a ferry approaches the island, hoping it will bring more spectators for his performance | All photographs by Demetrios Ioannou for POLITICO
Without Christos, and his older brothers and cousins before him, the school would have been shuttered years ago. Instead, the Greek Ministry of Education every year appoints one teacher to teach one student on Arkoi. This school year, it’s Maria Tsialera, who started teaching Christos in September.
Tsialera helped prepare Christos for Oxi Day, Greece’s national holiday, which is always commemorated with a parade. Dressed in the traditional costume of his Dodecanese islands, a bubbly Christos “marched” with his teacher twice around the olive tree in the center of the village, cheered on by a small group of family and friends.
Amid a devastating economic depression Greece has struggled to climb out of since 2009, the future of the school on this tiny, underpopulated island indeed lies in the hands of its youngest resident.
‘Nisos Kalymnos’ is the only ferry that connects Arkoi to the larger islands of Patmos, Lipsoi and Leros. It comes twice a week and, in addition to carrying people, often brings Arkoi residents food and goods from the larger islands’ markets.
Christos’ teacher, Maria Tsialera, raises a new flag at the school. The last one was battered and torn following a stormy winter.
Before Christos’ lessons begin each morning, teacher and student say a prayer. Tsialera, born in Thessaloniki, worked for years at a school on Leros. She says working on Arkoi is a dream come true. “I personally asked to be appointed here, and I haven’t regretted it for a second.”
Tsialera checks Christos’ pristine math homework from the previous day (“Excellent!”). “Christos is a very clever boy and he loves coming to school,” she says. “If, for any reason, the school has to close, he would be very disappointed.”
At the beginning of the school day, Christos rings the bell. In any other school, the sound would send students running through the halls to their classrooms. Here, Tsialera says, “it’s more of a symbolic act.”
Recess on Arkoi isn’t exactly a swarm of children running in a field. Christos likes to play basketball in the courtyard. Wishing her lone student had more playmates, Tsialera sometimes joins in. “I’m not as good as he is — he always wins!” she says jokingly.
Christos joins his older brothers and cousins — his best friends — planting vegetables in the family’s garden. The population of the island temporarily swells during summer, when more people visit during holidays.
Christos usually eats the lunch his mother packs him alone on the school’s patio. The school had twice as many students until his brother Panayiotis graduated.
The majority of locals on the island are shepherds and fishermen, like Christos’ family.
Tsialera lives in a small apartment attached to the school during the week and then returns to Lipsoi on her husband’s boat on Fridays. She hops back on the boat early Monday morning.
Christos lives about a mile away from the school, a route he usually navigates alone on his bike. When his old bike broke, a couple from Athens — friends of his teacher — gave him a new one.
Christos, in traditional Dodecanese dress, stands in front of a map of Greece. Arkoi is just over his left shoulder, close to Turkey.
At the end of the parade, Christos holds up the Greek flag in front of an olive tree at the center of the village by the old port. “Greece is my island,” he proudly says. Christos has never traveled to Athens — only occasionally to nearby islands for medical reasons or to visit family.
As the youngest child, Christos has a private room in the family’s home, where he spends most of his free time reading. What does he want to be when he grows up? “A teacher.”
In preparation for the parade, Tsialera helps Christos don the traditional costume of the Dodecanese islands.
Around Oxi Day, Christos helped his teacher decorate the classroom with paper flags.
This road leads to the church of Panagia Pantanassa, at Arkoi’s highest point. In the background are small uninhabited neighboring islands. From the other side of the church, on a clear day, you can see the Turkish coast.
Churches are packed together on the Dodecanese islands. This is the silhouette of one, Agioi Anargyroi, minutes after sunset. Even in this small village, there are three places to worship. But no priests live on the island.
Demetrios Ioannou is a Greek photojournalist and documentary photographer based in Athens, Greece. His work focuses on humanitarian issues, conflict and the Middle East.