Sunday, a week before Carnival, we arrived in Naousa around 8:00. We left the car and started looking for what the locals call the "mpoulouki." The streets were still quiet, with barely anyone moving between the houses.
The Gathering and the Old Ways
The custom began with visits to local homes — the well-known ritual of the "kalésmata." Going from house to house, the young men, dressed in traditional costumes and loaded with silver ornaments, are called by the instruments (zournades and daouli) to join the mpoulouki. The whole process follows unwritten rules, passed down from generation to generation.
The custom known as "Genitsaroi and Boules" is the heartbeat of Naousa's Carnival. Only men participate — and even the role of the "bride-Boula" is always taken by a man, wearing the wide floral dresses, flower crowns, and countless coins. Months before they take to the streets, families prepare the clothing and the silverware, which are expensive and usually heirloom pieces. The preparation itself is therefore an act of homage to the past.
From City Hall to the Streets
By mid-morning, the mpoulouki has grown, and together with other groups they gather at city hall, where the leader of each mpoulouki asks the mayor's permission to begin the dancing. The zournas plays the «Zalistós», and the Boules — proudly leaning back — strike the silver coins on their chests in rhythmic defiance in a scene that sends a shiver down your spine. The bride-Boula moved bowing toward the ground. The custom clearly carries echoes of the Revolution. It is said that during the Ottoman period, the Boules would briefly reveal their faces to the Turkish governor to show their peaceful intentions. Many connect the roots of the custom back to the army of Alexander the Great.
I followed the procession of one mpoulouki through the narrow lanes. The march stopped at seven triódria (points where three roads meet) — the numbers three and seven carry ritual significance in the custom — and at each stop the same sequence repeated: a call, a response, and a dance.
The Unmasking
All day the dancers (Genitsaroi) are anonymous, wearing the "prósopon" (white mask), which symbolises death, the stillness of the dead, and the spirit of the ancestors. When they remove it, they return from anonymity to their own name, revealing their faces.
The custom is tied to the coming of spring. The mask (white) symbolises winter and death, and its removal symbolises the "resurrection," the rebirth of nature and the return of hope.
The mask also recalls the resistance of the people of Naousa during the Ottoman period. Its removal after the dance symbolises purification and the victory of life.
It is a moment of deep emotion in which the dancers — often young men — return to the community, marking the union of generations.
Reflections
By nightfall, after endless hours of dancing, the mpoulouki slowly began to scatter. We made our way home exhausted, but for my part I couldn't stop thinking about the discipline and the ritual with which the custom comes to life. The men had been preparing for months: sourcing the clothes, rehearsing the steps, and so on. This ritual is not kept alive because anyone imposes it, but because in the end every one of them feels the weight and the honour of their role deeply.
