Cyprus-Forum.com

[Jerry]

Great story BK....but since youre writing it in style, I've decided to wait till you finished so I can read it all in one go.

Thanks t_c....I appreciate your comments. I know people mean well,but if I get no responses I start thinking that no one is interested...Call it creative angst!

Bir, you have had over 1300 views in seven pages - I think you can take it that we are all very interested!

[kafenes]

Great story BK....but since youre writing it in style, I've decided to wait till you finished so I can read it all in one go.

Thanks t_c....I appreciate your comments. I know people mean well,but if I get no responses I start thinking that no one is interested...Call it creative angst!

Bir, I always wait anxiously for your next post. I don't make any comments as I am afraid to spoil this great thread. Please continue with the great writing. I am thoroughly enjoying it.

[Pubdog2]

Me too
I don't post here very often but this is a very good read - please keep it up

[humanist]

Dear Bir

I believe your account of your experiences is one of the most balanced accounts of Cypriot history I have read thus far. I am really looking forward to more. Though finding it a bit difficult with all comments in between. May b I will get to read it all at once some day enjoying a cook off session with you, either at my place or yours. Hopefully with a very special guest joinning us.

Cheers
Andreas

[BirKibrisli]

Many thanks to Piratis,Tim,Jerry,Kafenes (my dear Kafenes!),Pubdog2 for your feedback...I will do my best today (it is still morning here in the arse end of the world!) to get over this sorry episode, which is proving very emotional...Birxxx

[BirKibrisli]

Dear Bir

I believe your account of your experiences is one of the most balanced accounts of Cypriot history I have read thus far. I am really looking forward to more. Though finding it a bit difficult with all comments in between. May b I will get to read it all at once some day enjoying a cook off session with you, either at my place or yours. Hopefully with a very special guest joinning us.

Cheers
Andreas

Yes,dear Andreas...A cook-in with that Precious Special Guest joining us in Sydney would be just divine...Lets keep dreaming and hoping...

[BirKibrisli]

Let me open a bracket here and talk about the TMT and the EOKA...
There are people who strongly believe both these organisations were established and fostered by the British...The Deep State,not the people...

Was this really the British masterstroke? The ultimate divide and rule strategy? The darkest design to justify the harsh measures they knew they had to take to prolong their colonisation of Cyprus? An attempt to give substance to their demands for bases should they be forced to abandon their imperial rule? In the case of the EOKA I belive this belief to be very fanciful.In the case of the TMT I have little doubt it is true...
After signing Cyprus over to the British in 1923 Turkey had little interest in the fate of the Turkish Cypriots. The British had to somehow bring Turkey to the party,kicking and screaming...

On the surface TMT had the noble cause of protecting the TCs from the numerically superior and evil GCs. Deep down their real aim was to derail the independence and bring about the Taksim or Partition of the island.
If EOKA wanted Enosis TMT was going for Taksim.

As a young and idealistic teacher Father was amongst the founding members of VOLKAN,the political and intellectual,non-armed movement which preceeded the TMT. He was a nationalist but not a Turanist (pan-Turkish nationalist movement championed by Ziya Gokalp). He was a Turkish Cypriot nationalist who believed in independence and co-habitation,not in Enosis or Taksim. He was also a humanist and a poet,an admirer of Nazim Hikmet,the much maligned and prosecuted Turkish communist poet. Our house was full of Hikmet's books,even when he was banned and it was considered a "thought crime" to be reading him.

By the time we moved to this fateful village in Limassol Father's relationship with the TMT had become very strained. He was sidelined and placed under the local TMT commandant. This man whom I shall call Mr Big was an ignorant thug and a standover man. He was only in TMT to further his own career as a Mafia-style crime boss. Stereotypically, he was grossly overweight with a very jovial disposition.But his eyes were as cold as steel. It was obvious to me as an 11 year old that people were petrified of him.It would've been extremely difficult and humiliating for Father to cooperate with this man in any sensible and productive way. Yet he did his best for a whole year.But by the second year he had decided he had no other option but to break all his ties with Mr Big and the TMT.
But since he was previously an area commander in Paphos he was privy to certain TMT secrets. He knew he was asking for trouble...

The trouble came sooner than he expected. One evening in early 1963,Mr Big invited Father to dinner at a rastaurant in Limassol owned by a member of his family.He said they had very important things to discuss.
And he wouldn't take no for an answer. He picked Father up in his own car and they headed off into the night.

During dinner Father discovered Mr Big had nothing much to say. He was sitting with his back to a wall watching the door of the restaurant nervously. And for a man of big appetite he was eating very little.
Sure enough the door soon opened and someone in a dark overcoat and dark hat walked in. The man spotted Mr Big and started walking towards their table. It was then that Father realised they were the only 3 people in the restaurant. The owner,the waiter,and the other customers had disappeared. Mr Big stood up and walked away from the table. Father looked up and saw Mr Big give a nod to the man in the hat and dark overcoat.The man took one more step towards the table and stopped dead in his tracks. His right hand was behind his back. What Father expected to happen next did not happen. The man's right hand dropped to his side. His body relaxed as he put the gun back in his pocket. He then rushed forward and embraced Father kissing his hand and putting it to his forehead as the traditional expression of great respect. It was then that Father realised who his would-be-assassin was. It was O..from the village of Yalia,one of my father's star recruits to the ranks of TMT some years earlier.O...was like a member of our family in Yalia.He was always around,and Mother had dubbed him Father's "shadow"...He had tought me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. Mr Big or TMT had stuffed it up big time...

O..waited for Father to gather his things as he kept a watchful and disgusted eye on Mr Big who had collapsed on a chair looking white as a ghost.He later told Father he had to use all his willpower to stop himself from shooting Mr Big. O...drove Father home and stayed the night. In the morning we and some of our clothes were all packed into two cars and headed for the big lights of Nicosia.

I know this looks like a script from a bad Turkish gangster movie.
How would I know what exacly took place in that restaurant? Well,I didn't know as I wasn't there. All this information comes from Mother. I am just taking poetic licence to dramatise the scene to make it more interesting for you. And more importantly to distant myself emotionally so I can keep telling you my story...So please forgive my little self-indulgences...

We stayed in Nicosia at one of my Uncles' place. My mother's family did not lack political and financial influence those days. One of my Uncles accompanied Father to the Office of Nalbantoglu,Rauf Denktash's hatchet man. He denied any knowledge of it. Blaming it on Mr Big. Mr Big insisted the order had come from higher up. They assured Father TMT had no intention of killing him.The game was up anyway,they argued. There could never be a second attempt.They told Father he was free to walk away from TMT provided he kept to the oath he took when he joined ,not to ever reveal any secrets he might have. After a week or so we returned to the faithful village. For us kids ,who knew nothing of all this, it had been a wonderful holiday. An adventure where we caught up with our Nicosia- cousins,and enjoyed the fruits of being in the capital.For Father it must've been like returning to hell. Mr Big was no longer the area commander for TMT.And Father was no longer a member of it...But the worst,for Father and for me,was yet to come...

(to be continued...)

[Nikitas]

What a chilling tale you tell! A mafia style hit arranged in a restaurant in Limassol, it brings to mind the Godfather scenes!

[BirKibrisli]

What a chilling tale you tell! A mafia style hit arranged in a restaurant in Limassol, it brings to mind the Godfather scenes!

If only it was just fictional!..

[BirKibrisli]

Let me open a bracket here and talk about the TMT and the EOKA...
There are people who strongly believe both these organisations were established and fostered by the British...The Deep State,not the people...

Was this really the British masterstroke? The ultimate divide and rule strategy? The darkest design to justify the harsh measures they knew they had to take to prolong their colonisation of Cyprus? An attempt to give substance to their demands for bases should they be forced to abandon their imperial rule? In the case of the EOKA I belive this belief to be very fanciful.In the case of the TMT I have little doubt it is true...
After signing Cyprus over to the British in 1923 Turkey had little interest in the fate of the Turkish Cypriots. The British had to somehow bring Turkey to the party,kicking and screaming...

On the surface TMT had the noble cause of protecting the TCs from the numerically superior and evil GCs. Deep down their real aim was to derail the independence and bring about the Taksim or Partition of the island.
If EOKA wanted Enosis TMT was going for Taksim.

As a young and idealistic teacher Father was amongst the founding members of VOLKAN,the political and intellectual,non-armed movement which preceeded the TMT. He was a nationalist but not a Turanist (pan-Turkish nationalist movement championed by Ziya Gokalp). He was a Turkish Cypriot nationalist who believed in independence and co-habitation,not in Enosis or Taksim. He was also a humanist and a poet,an admirer of Nazim Hikmet,the much maligned and prosecuted Turkish communist poet. Our house was full of Hikmet's books,even when he was banned and it was considered a "thought crime" to be reading him.

By the time we moved to this fateful village in Limassol Father's relationship with the TMT had become very strained. He was sidelined and placed under the local TMT commandant. This man whom I shall call Mr Big was an ignorant thug and a standover man. He was only in TMT to further his own career as a Mafia-style crime boss. Stereotypically, he was grossly overweight with a very jovial disposition.But his eyes were as cold as steel. It was obvious to me as an 11 year old that people were petrified of him.It would've been extremely difficult and humiliating for Father to cooperate with this man in any sensible and productive way. Yet he did his best for a whole year.But by the second year he had decided he had no other option but to break all his ties with Mr Big and the TMT.
But since he was previously an area commander in Paphos he was privy to certain TMT secrets. He knew he was asking for trouble...

The trouble came sooner than he expected. One evening in early 1963,Mr Big invited Father to dinner at a rastaurant in Limassol owned by a member of his family.He said they had very important things to discuss.
And he wouldn't take no for an answer. He picked Father up in his own car and they headed off into the night.

During dinner Father discovered Mr Big had nothing much to say. He was sitting with his back to a wall watching the door of the restaurant nervously. And for a man of big appetite he was eating very little.
Sure enough the door soon opened and someone in a dark overcoat and dark hat walked in. The man spotted Mr Big and started walking towards their table. It was then that Father realised they were the only 3 people in the restaurant. The owner,the waiter,and the other customers had disappeared. Mr Big stood up and walked away from the table. Father looked up and saw Mr Big give a nod to the man in the hat and dark overcoat.The man took one more step towards the table and stopped dead in his tracks. His right hand was behind his back. What Father expected to happen next did not happen. The man's right hand dropped to his side. His body relaxed as he put the gun back in his pocket. He then rushed forward and embraced Father kissing his hand and putting it to his forehead as the traditional expression of great respect. It was then that Father realised who his would-be-assassin was. It was O..from the village of Yalia,one of my father's star recruits to the ranks of TMT some years earlier.O...was like a member of our family in Yalia.He was always around,and Mother had dubbed him Father's "shadow"...He had tought me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. Mr Big or TMT had stuffed it up big time...

O..waited for Father to gather his things as he kept a watchful and disgusted eye on Mr Big who had collapsed on a chair looking white as a ghost.He later told Father he had to use all his willpower to stop himself from shooting Mr Big. O...drove Father home and stayed the night. In the morning we and some of our clothes were all packed into two cars and headed for the big lights of Nicosia.

I know this looks like a script from a bad Turkish gangster movie.
How would I know what exacly took place in that restaurant? Well,I didn't know as I wasn't there. All this information comes from Mother. I am just taking poetic licence to dramatise the scene to make it more interesting for you. And more importantly to distant myself emotionally so I can keep telling you my story...So please forgive my little self-indulgences...

We stayed in Nicosia at one of my Uncles' place. My mother's family did not lack political and financial influence those days. One of my Uncles accompanied Father to the Office of Nalbantoglu,Rauf Denktash's hatchet man. He denied any knowledge of it. Blaming it on Mr Big. Mr Big insisted the order had come from higher up. They assured Father TMT had no intention of killing him.The game was up anyway,they argued. There could never be a second attempt.They told Father he was free to walk away from TMT provided he kept to the oath he took when he joined ,not to ever reveal any secrets he might have. After a week or so we returned to the faithful village. For us kids ,who knew nothing of all this, it had been a wonderful holiday. An adventure where we caught up with our Nicosia- cousins,and enjoyed the fruits of being in the capital.For Father it must've been like returning to hell. Mr Big was no longer the area commander for TMT.And Father was no longer a member of it...But the worst,for Father and for me,was yet to come...

(to be continued...)

We went to school to Limassol everyday by bus. It took nearly an hour each way. While it was tiring it was also a lot of fun. There were some 30 of us from all classes,and we got to know each other well. The most eventful thing for me in my first year at Secondary school was somewhat personal. I got circumcised...I was 11 years old. Now that is pretty late for a boy. It usually and traditionally happens between the ages of 5 to 7.
But I was the only boy and my mother was very protective and indulgent of me. I was scared of the whole thing and kept saying NO. But there was no way of escaping it,and it was becoming a serious problem for me...

I was too self-conscious and too shy about it all. So I insisted that if it had to be done it must be done secretly and away from the village.So during the winter recess in 1962 I was booked in to Limassol Hospital.There were two other boys booked in for circumcision at the same time. Mr Big's two sons who were 6 and 8 years old. Don't get confused now. The assassination attempt was still one year or so away. Things were reasonable friendly at this stage. But I was not happy that I had company.
This meant my secret was out,the whole village was bound to find out about it. There was nothing to be done except refusing Mr Big's offer to have a joint circumcision party afterwards in the village. I felt I'd rather die than parade in fancy circumcision dress,complete with a sash and top hat ,in front of the whole village.

The doctor who performed the operation was young and inexperienced.Those days doctors did not get to do many circumcisions. The job was done by lay persons called Sunnetci (Circumciser),someone very skilled in this normally simple operation.It was usually the local barber who doubled up as the Sunnetci...And they hardly ever made mistakes.Unlike doctors who often botched it up. As mine did...

I was given a local anastetic (can you imagine it boys?) and was aware of the whole procedure.Instread of just snipping off a bit with a cut-throat razor,he proceeded to use surgical scissors. He cut too much skin and he couldn't cut it evenly...There was blood everywhere and I had to receive stiches to correct the situation. It took months and a lot of trips to the hospital before I was properly healed.Thinking about it now,I was probably this doctor's first circumcision. He must've been a fast learner,for he did a reasonable job on Mr Big's two boys who came in after me. Or maybe he was too scared of losing his own balls should he botch up the job on Mr Big's sons... Make a mental note to remember these two boys. The good luck they enjoyed at the hospital in Limassol was not to last them a lifetime...

(to be continued...)