Last time I stood in front of this house the year was 1969...I was 17 years old...It belonged to my Ayshe Teyze,my mother's younger sister.It is in a village called Civisil...In fact I spend my last 2 weeks in Cyprus in this house...It was like a refuge or a hiding place...Back in those good old days if you were a Turkish Cypriot and you lived in the Turkish enclave in Nicosia you were not allowed to get out of the enclave if you were a male between the ages of 12 and 55...Unless you had a very good reason...
My father had a very good reason. He had made a deal with the TMT a few years earlier. He would leave the island as soon as possible,and keep his mouth shut about TMT activities he disagreed with.In return they promised not to whack him in the meantime...But I had no such luck...
I had to stay and do my national service,then I could join him in exile...
Rightly or wrongly my father did not want to leave me behind.So I had to be smuggled out of the enclave and come here,to this house in Civisil, in good time to wait for the plane ride which would take us to Southampton in England in time to catch the good ship Australis bound for Australia.
Visiting this house on my first day in Cyprus after 38 years was not on the agenda.When my True Cypriot Brother (TCB!) picked me up from Larnaca Airport our first stop was Hala Sultan's Tekke (Um Kharam Muselium) not far from the airport...I had been there once before as a 12 year old on one of the school excursions...I remember that day well...We were happy as only students who have a day off from their routine can be...More interested in playing tricks on each other than looking at the Other Worldly offerings in front of us...I was happy to get this opportunity to make ammends and show proper respect to one of the holiest shrines in Islamic history...
Our next stop was to be the Aytotro (Ayios Theodoros) village in Larnaca where I had lived for one year.My father was a primary school teacher and I had the terrible misfortune of attending 4 different primary schools as Father's occupation took us to different parts of the island...As we drove along the highway I saw the sign pointing to Civisil and made a special request of my TCB (True Cypriot Brother)...We were now standing in front of the house which I had no trouble finding even after 38 years...A slow drive through the little village,a left and a right and here we were...
"Lets see if anyone is home," my TCB said. I hesitated. Not wanting to disturb the people inside..."It is my Auntie's house and I was only here for two weeks..." I mumbled..."Did she have any children?" -"yes,a boy and two girls" - "fine ,we'll tell them you are the son."
(To be continued....)