By Ramona Stout
On the island of Ikaria young boys looked on waiting for their moment to join the dance, and elderly men danced together as if there were no women to be found. Later, in Naxos, young girls shared jokes under their breath as the crowd listened to the tsabouna's exhales and grown women giggled at the lyrics of a song they knew well from the voice of an unknown player. In ports, on boats, in cars trundling over rough road (hear below) and under the dappled light of deciduous trees, the sound of the tsabouna was everywhere.
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Thank you Ramona Stout