Two foreigners, a man and his wife, traveled out of ancient Corinth one day last month along the twisting roads that lead toward the rugged interior of the Peloponnesian peninsula. In a tranquil mountain valley, they came to the village of Kalavryta. When the villagers learned that the visitors were Germans, there were sullen mutterings in the village square. A white-haired woman in widow's weeds glared at the man. "He is one of them," she said. "He must go."
The mayor, Petrds Georgacopoulis, was more receptive. At the visitors' request, he summoned the village leaders to Kalavryta's new hotel to listen...
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