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[Medman]

In the 1940’s and 50’s, Larnaca and her port was witness to extraordinary scenes on a weekly basis. Italian ships, like the ‘Mesapya’ and ‘Phillipo Grimoni’ and later accompanied by Jewish vessels would enter Larnaca Bay and cause great distress and anxiety for the Cypriot community, both Greek and Turkish. These ships and floating flotillas signalled the departure of loved ones for the new world, namely Britain and the U.S.A. By the quayside in the town, families and loved ones would converge and bid farewell to mostly male members of the clan as they embarked on a journey in to the unknown. There would be unbridled emotion, frenzy, anguish and hysteria as chums and companions disappeared up the wooden walkway in to the ships interior. Mothers would be known to pull their hair literally out of their scalps, whilst fathers passed out with tears in their eyes. Screams and Shouts would echo around the harbour be it in Greek or Turkish and port side workers would ignore the calls as it became such a regular occurrence.

The mourning period would start weeks in advance, but on the day of the departure it would start of like a wedding celebration. Two or Three bus loads of people from the departing person’s home village would descend in to Larnaca. They came far and wide from places such as Lefkara, Aradippou, Geckitkale/Kofinou, Taskent/Tochni and brought enough food to see them through the day. The gleaming white ships would be nestled in the harbour awaiting their human cargo and the whole scenario turned from joyous celebration in to a funeral wake. Emotions fluctuated throughout for everyone involved in the whole process. Today’s generation can not begin to understand the rollercoaster of soul stirring feelings involved as you said goodbye to a loved one. Greeks and Turks joined together to console one another at the grief of seeing someone go abroad. This was a time when the only technology that existed to let you know if your nearest and dearest had made it was through the postal system. No faxes, mobiles or e-mails to deliver your message of arrival back then. How we take technology for granted these days.

The ships would depart and the poignant, emotive and tear jerking moments would stabilise for a short while. The villagers would enter their buses and head home where some tucked in to the array of food amassed to honour the departed. The wailing would intensify again if the ship was spotted on the horizon as it cleared Cypriot waters. Folk, young and old clutched and clung on to one another as ships like the ‘Mesapya’ headed towards Italy. The journey could take anything up to a week or two if you were heading for the U.K. Longer if you were States bound. So why did Cypriots of that time do it?

Cyprus wasn’t as prosperous back then and Larnaca was a small town, which hadn’t even added Aradippou to its conurbation. Young men in particular chose to go and look for work abroad; with many possibly envisaging that they would stay a couple of years and head back to the island with enough money to start a better life.

However it wasn’t as straight forward to emigrate as it is now. To enter the UK you had to be invited, even though Cyprus was a British colony. You needed to find a sponsor and favours and requests were called in by many hoping to make it out of the island. On reflection, many possibly didn’t want to really go, but with no work, choices were limited. Families would have to understand the sacrifices involved, though all too often this bubbled up to the surface on the Larnaca quayside when the realisation that a loved or special one was actually going. Cyprus was very different to the tales being told through regular correspondents from Cypriots already in the UK and America. London in particular was no Cyprus. The life was harsher, the weather was not like the Mediterranean and there were language difficulties too. Imagine, young men who had been shepherds in the Troodos mountains and possibly had a bit more of a care free existence then most now finding themselves working in polluted factories or washing dishes in a back street restaurant in the capital city of England. What a life! Streets paved with gold, I don’t think so! Like other new arrivals from various parts of the world, Cypriots were treated no differently to any other foreigner. It was tough, but the community persevered and letters were sent home highlighting their progress. Relatives waited eagerly for letters from the U.K. and America at the local village or town post office.

Years passed before departed folk ventured back to the island. Some came back to meet up with their wives again and establish new relationships with their own children for the first time. Plans were made to take families back to the UK, where they could all start a new life together. Some parents passed away before they had a chance to see their sons and daughters again, but there had been little choice back then such was the economic climate of Cyprus. This was a life before the arrival of affordable air travel to the island. Italian and Jewish boats were the only way out for Cypriots seeking fame and fortune. Once regular aircraft starting arriving at Nicosia, the world got smaller and Australia was established as another port of call for the young and the restless. The wailing and cries of mothers and fathers were then not just heard and limited to the confines of Larnaca port, but the departure lounge at Nicosia Airport. Many Cypriots left and for one reason or another ended up staying in their adopted countries for a longer period then they expected due to a number of reasons. However only tourist and cargo ships enter Larnaca now and for those who made the sacrifice and journey back then, Cyprus and her soil will always be part of them as long as they live or care to remember.

Dedicated to my Uncles, Izzet and Ali who made the journey to the America, via the U.K. and never made it back to Cyprus. May you both rest in peace. Love you and still miss you!

Also a special mention to the Cypriots, both Turkish and Greek who supported my uncles on their expedition.

[humanist]

Hi medman and thank you for sharing your story. Sorry to hear about your uncles.

[Oracle]

I can't help getting this creepy sensation that the Turk/TCs want to claim the whole island as theirs.

As though they are getting claustrophobic in the occupied section and they want to reclaim anything they had touched before. Bit like they never let a building go back to anything it was before once it has been "Mosquefied".

Can't explain it, just some instinct and foreboding that they are wishing for something that does not bode well for us

All this nostalgia and abandoned villages etc that they are getting "whimsy" for.

They are preparing themselves for another grab-fest ....

[iceman]

Medman
Thank you very much yet again for another excellent story...
I have uncles who did the trip on those boats back in early fifties..One has returned (after 52 years) another is aging in Canada (no plans of returning) and the third still in UK after 57 years (he has plans of returning to Cyprus in his last days but i doubt his health condition will allow)

[humanist]

EU territory Oracles , no need to concern yerself. They ain't grabbin anymore, but I don't see em returning much of what they got in a hurry either. Although some of the actions Talat has taken good will for reconciliation I still have not been able to see essence and integrity in his efforts. One step forth ten backwards.

[SSBubbles]

Yet another well written poignant story medman. Thank you.