I noticed a very brief article in the Turkish Cypriot press reporting the recent demise of the first Greek-Cypriot woman ever to marry a Turkish Cypriot:
http://www.yeniduzengazetesi.com/index. ... e/Haberler
This article is based on a report in the Greek-Cypriot Alithia newspaper. I was unable to track down a link to this article, but in the process stumbled across the following interview from 2002 with the woman's husband, Hasan Mustafa. The couple apparently gave birth to four sons, and one of them is, according to the above article, the current moukhtar of Androlikou.
http://www.sptimes.com/2002/09/18/news_ ... e_in.shtml
Waiting for change in divided Cyprus
By ROSS TUTTLE
© St. Petersburg Times, published September 18, 2002
________________________________________
ANDROLIKOU, Cyprus -- Twenty-eight years ago, when the buses came rumbling down the road to Androlikou, Hassan Mustafa didn't budge.
The Turkish Cypriot goat farmer, now 66, was the only man who refused to leave this hillside settlement during the civil war that divided the Mediterranean island between Greek Cypriots in the south and Turks in the north.
"We thought they'd be back soon," Hassan says of his family, friends and neighbors. Androlikou, once home to nearly 400 Turkish Cypriots, lies on the Greek Cypriot side of the divide. "We are still alone."
Cyprus has been divided since 1974, when the Turkish army invaded in response to a coup by Greek officers that Turkey saw as an attempt to unite the country with Greece. About 5,000 people were killed and more than 200,000 were displaced -- nearly a quarter of the population.
Thousands of Greek Cypriots fled southward fearing for their lives; others remained in enclaves only to leave later as they became increasingly isolated. Many of the Turkish Cypriot minority also fled their homes during the fighting, but most were ferried out in the aftermath by orderly U.N. transports, like the one in Androlikou.
Today, fewer than 300 Turkish Cypriots reside in the south, and just over 400 Greek Cypriots have stayed in the north.
* * *
Mustafa's house, which he shares with his Greek Cypriot wife, stands amid a panorama of desolation. The mosque, one of the few buildings still intact, is shuttered. The adjacent minaret has long since fallen. Most of the homes go unused but for the goats that have turned them into stables.
"That one's dead, that one's dead, and now that one's dead, too," says Mustafa, pointing to three houses, referring to their owners. "Their children? Why would they want to come back here? There's nothing for them here."
But Cyprus, half the size of Connecticut, could be on the verge of a breakthrough. The country expects to enter the European Union this year, and negotiations on reunification have been under way since January. Though an agreement ahead of the Dec. 11 accession date is not assured, many Cypriots believe that once they are EU members a solution cannot be far off.
And a political solution may allow displaced villagers from Androlikou to reclaim their land, which, because of its proximity to the sea, could be worth millions of dollars.
But Mustafa has trouble envisioning a bright tomorrow.
"The politicians are all going in different directions," he says. "They can't agree on anything."
* * *
The United Nations patrols a line running horizontally across the island, with the south serving as home to the internationally recognized government, while the north is considered occupied territory and is accessible only through Turkey. Travel between the two sides is highly restricted, and the capital city, Nicosia, has a buffer zone that cuts through its historic center like a scar.
Official divisions notwithstanding, many Cypriots have shown ability as well as desire to co-exist -- Mustafa more than most. Not only is his wife a Greek Cypriot, but so are most of his friends.
One of those friends joins him as he sits on his patio listening to a radio talk show. Panicos Chrysanthou, a 51-year-old filmmaker, is a refugee from the north. He hopes for a settlement soon that will enable him to return to his rightful home.
"The economic incentives are too great to be ignored," he says, referring to EU-promised development grants for the north's depressed economy. The money will flow only if there is reunification.
* * *
Asked who he blames for the stalemate, Mustafa offers an assortment of culprits. "Take your pick," he barks: America for not putting pressure on Turkey; Turkey for not withdrawing its troops; the Turkish Cypriot leader, Rauf Denktash, for his stubbornness -- his list goes on.
Mustafa says he is not bitter, and in many ways, he is content. He has a loving wife, his children are healthy, and as owner of a nearly 300 goats, he is financially secure. But at times he can't conceal his wounds.
"I am angry we were not accepted," he says of his marriage to a Greek Cypriot woman, an act that was all but forbidden at the time. And he is angry at the politicians' rejection of the co-existence their matrimony represents.
Twenty-eight years ago, he was forced to make a difficult decision: leave with the rest of his village or hide from the transport. He expected there to be consequences -- maybe for a year -- but not forever. If he had known, perhaps he would have done things differently.
Every afternoon, Mustafa takes his goats up into the hills, walking with a deliberate, stiff-legged gait. As he gains altitude, the Mediterranean Sea becomes visible on the horizon and, on a clear day, Turkey. In the evening, he returns home along the same dusty road that carried his neighbors away in 1974. During these five-hour hikes, he has plenty of time to ponder what could have been.
"Do I have any regrets?" he muses. "Sometimes. We could have left and been poor, without opportunity in the north, but we would have been with our family and friends. We stayed and we are not poor, but we are alone."