Greek wildfire destroys resin collectors' jobs

Resin collectors on the Greek island of Evia have made their living from the dense pine forests surrounding their villages for generations.

Tapping the pines for their resin has been a key source of income for hundreds of families, with the north of Evia accounting for around 80% of pine resin produced in Greece, and about 70% of pine honey.

But now, hardly anything is left.

A devastating wildfire, one of Greece's most destructive single blazes in decades, rampaged across northern Evia for days, swallowing woodland, homes and businesses and sending thousands fleeing.

Tens of thousands of hectares of forests and farmland were reduced to a dystopian landscape of blackened, skeletal trees silhouetted against a smoke-filled sky.

"Now it's finished, everything has turned to ash," said Christos Livas, a 48-year-old resin collector and father of four.

The forest has been destroyed for generations to come.

For trees to grow to the point where resin can be extracted will take more than two decades, they say, and probably twice as long for the production of pine honey.

Most of Livas's livelihood has literally gone up in smoke, lost in a horrifying roar as the giant wildfire raced toward the village.

The flames moved fast, and there was no time to collect the thousands of plastic bags pinned to the trees to gather the precious resin.

Instead, they turned their attention to the village, ignoring an evacuation order and staying to save their homes.

They managed this - but they couldn't save the forest.

And the villagers' anger - at the state for not sending more firefighters sooner, and for ordering evacuations when they say locals could have helped fight the flames - is palpable.

Livas had been extracting resin from about 3,000 trees, producing about 9-10 tons per year at 27 euro cents per kilogram.

He supplemented his income by farming olive trees, raising animals and occasional logging.

But there are no more trees to log now, and most of the olive trees are gone.

And of all the trees he was tapping, just one solitary pine survived.

"Now, we who are left here, we're doomed," Livas said.

With four young children to support, the eldest just 13, the father said he'd look for work.

But with only a primary school education and unable to read and write, the thought seemed to overwhelm him.

The forest, farming, and collecting resin, which he's been doing since he was 15, was all he'd ever known.

Others were even worse off, Livas said.

Some had several family members collecting resin, gathering around 30-40 tons a year.

There were entire villages working almost exclusively in resin collection.

Fellow villager Antonis Natsios felt the same.

He started working as a resin collector at the age of 12, learning the technique from his father, who had learned it from his father.

Now 51 and with three children, two of them in college, he's not sure how he'll make ends meet.

"It's not the future, it's what we see. When you've been living something for 50 years and now you see this thing, this charcoal," Natsios said.

The government has vowed to compensate all those affected by the fire.

But no compensation can make up for the total destruction of their livelihoods for decades to come, the resin collectors of north Evia say.

IMAGE: AP