Okey,folks...the troops are getting restless so it is time to wind up this "dairy"...I know we are only on the second day of the trip,but the silly season are almost upon us,and I am running out of time and energy...
But I will not leave you high and dry...Briefly let me say that the actual visit to Istinjo did not prove to be as emotional as I was afraid...And I was not the only one who feared the consequences...Unbeknown to me The Precious One had contacted my True Cypriot Brother (TBC!just for Zan) and suggested some precautions for the visit. Her idea was to have a bucket full of iced water ready at hand, to throw on me if I was too overcome by the ocassion. My TCB had his own idea...a flask full of whiskey!
None of these precautions proved necessary in the end...Istinjo that I visited on this trip was not the Istinjo I remembered or dreamt about for 40 years...It was like visiting a foreign place. None of my family's houses were still standing. And the house I was born in lay in ruins just across the road from Grandparents' "guest house". The wallnut tree was long gone. The orchards,the vineyards,the almond and carob trees,even the figs had disappeared. There were a few skinny pomegranate and orange trees trying to survive in the suffocating heat. The water at the fountain which was flowing day and night as thick as my neck had almost totally dried up. I couldnt identify the places where the village flour mill and the wheat threshing field had stood. Only the school building and the mosque, minus the minaret, looked familiar. The overwhelming feeling I got was one of relief...The relief of knowing that nothing ,but nothing,will ever destroy the beautiful memories I have of my childhood. And nothing will remove the belief that it is people who give you a sense of belonging and security,not places...
We drove through Zaharga,and Melandra and entered the Paphos Forest heading for Stavros...We had many picnics here on our school excursions.
The snake like twists of the road,and the smell of pine trees brought back a lot of sense-memory...We were heading for Pyrgos and for another seafood feast at another seaside restaurant,served by a Thai waitress!
On the way back to Paphos we visited Yalya (Gialia) where we had lived for 5 years between 1954 and 59,and whereI had first became conscious of the terrible twins, The EOKA and the TMT...I found the house we lived in,again in ruins. Most of the other houses were occupied and in good nick,but not this one. I found the school building which was now used as a restaurant. Yalya was where I lost my childhood innocence. No...this was where I was robbed of my childhood. Where I learned how to use a handgun and a handgrenade...Where I lay in bed frozen with fear while British soldiers searched the house looking for TMT arms and ammunition.They never found them because we were lying on them. Being British they never imagined these crafty Cypriots would hide stenguns,handguns and grenades plus sacks of ammunition in their children's beds...
Yalya was also where I first experienced the consequences of trying to stick things in girls' underpants...At age 6 or 7 I was caught by Mother playing doctors and nurses with the little girl next door. I was apparently trying to put a long stick in her vagina...The consequence was a good hiding from Mother which I still remember,after 50 years... I also remember the day British soldiers almost found the handgun Father forgot to hide during an expected raid.(Father seemed to always know when a British raid was imminent!) The gun was left in a draw in one of the bedrooms. But when that draw was searched the soldiers found nothing. After they left,and to Father's great relief and amazement,my sister B. lifted her skirt and took the gun out of her underpants. She was quicker in the draw than the soldiers!
In the following days there were plenty of eating and drinking in Paphos town,including the amazing banquet at kafenes' place on one of his rare nights off from performing. The taste of his homemade lahmacun , humous , souvlaki, and caciki, washed down by red wine ,ouzo (raki)and plenty of zivania will remain with me for a long time...
There were trips to the Akamas,to Troodos,to Nicosia,Varoshia,and Ayia Napa.In Nicosia we visited the Ledra Palaca crossing where we saw the remains of the infamous Lokmaci bridge and the wall of shame (is that the right name?) opposite. We climbed to an observation post in a nearby building and I tried to spot my old house near Kuruchesme within the old walls in the North. In Varoshia we stood on top of an apartment building overlooking the forbidden city and using binoculars looked and looked for some sign of life. All I saw was a sign in Turkish saying UNUTAMAYIZ (We cannot forget). And something else in small letters also in Turkish which I couldn't make out. I remember thinking "What is the point of writing slogans in Turkish that nobody on this side can understand???"
In Ayia Napa I was gobsmacked at the overcommercialisation. And the kitch nature of most of the bars and clubs. But the nearby beaches were just great. And at Konnos Beach I had my first swim in Cyprus waters for over 40 years. The crisp,clean,delightfully refreshing water almost brought tears to my eyes. Lying on my back,enjoying the 29 degrees of October heat on my face, I felt a little resentment that I had to go without this for more than 40 years,as all those halfnaked bodies all around me,the children and grandchildren of our colonisers, kept enjoying the delights and pleasures of my homeland seemingly without a care in the world. The moment passed quickly as I remembered not to judge people for the sins of their ancestors. I smiled to myself (as my TCB was out at sea racing with the dolphins!) at the recollection of the incident described by Glafkos Clerides in his memoirs. At a reception at the Government House in Nicosia,the last Governor of Cyprus,Sir Hugh Foot,was talking to a friendly audience about his very busy days on the job. "But I always find one hour at the end of the day to contemplate my sins for the day," he said jovially. To which Clerides could not help but reply," Is one hour enough for that task,Your Excellancy"...
(final eposide to follow tomorrow...)
