The recent ECJ ruling in favour of Greek Cypriot property owner Meletis Apostolides has led to a flurry of speculation in the north over the fate of those illegally living in properties abandoned after 1974. Reporter Daniel Lucas paid a visit to the primarily British village of Karmi to see what the locals were saying )
KARMI IS a picturesque village seated near the top of the Pentadaktylos mountain range, 15 kilometres south-west of Kyrenia.
Before 1974, the village was populated entirely by Greek Cypriots. These days it is a village consisting of around 100 renovated houses and a further 100 newly built properties that are inhabited almost entirely by foreign citizens coming mostly from the UK, but also a small contingent from Germany, Austria, France and the US.
The Greek Cypriot identity of the village is undeniable. According to the north’s official website for foreigners, cypnet.co.uk: “Karaman village, situated up on the mountains, to the west of Kyrenia, was abandoned by its Greek Cypriot inhabitants during the war in 1974.”
Many will raise an eyebrow to the ambiguity of the word ‘abandoned’, but we can’t linger on interpretations of the events of 1974, however potent they may be to the overall issue.
What I sought from my visit was a greater understanding of the general atmosphere and opinions held by a community living on Greek Cypriot land and Karmi proved to be a great example of this.
Leaving Kyrenia on the road to Lapithos, I turned left and began the ascent up the mountains. Despite the omnipresent speed bumps and signs advertising an assortment of villas, holiday-homes and land along the roads, the ride was smooth enough, eventually leading me past a number of beer gardens and scattered villas and into the old streets of Karmi-proper.
I encountered few people on the road, yet the ones that I did see gave me the impression of having stumbled into a quasi-hamlet of Sussex, where tea, dog-pruning and golf comprise the staple diet of entertainment for the majority of residents.
I settled on a bench in a local beer garden and ordered a drink to accompany the sunshine. Having noticed my number plates, the owner approached me and immediately began inquiring what someone from “the other side” was doing there.
“Just looking around,” I replied, “This is a very beautiful part of the island.”
A local woman, sitting on a nearby bench joined the conversation.
“Oh yes I know,” she said “We are so lucky we have the best part.”
Hmm, I thought… That’s interesting. I know I said I didn’t want to be pedantic about words, but at least three in that reply hit the little bell now ringing in my head: We, Have and Best.
I took my chance and tried to get a bit more out of what exactly she meant by this, or more specifically, how she could be so convinced that this was now her land.
Rather than become involved in a confrontation, I posed my question in a more subtle manner.
I enquired how I would go about purchasing some property in the area, and how secure she felt with all the legal speak going on at the moment.
“We bought the land from a legal real estate agency operating out of the UK in 2004, following the referendum.
“We [she and her husband], heard from the English press that the Greek Cypriots didn’t want anything to do with the Turkish Cypriots and that northern Cyprus might well be recognised shortly after, and that was the end of that.
“We saw that properties in the north were being sold at an extremely attractive price, and, together with the cost of living, it proved to be a great choice for us.”
I found it hard to believe that those living in Karmi were strapped for cash.
There was a tea room with possibly enough Mercedes to invade Poland parked out the front. The structures that have been built during the last five years were hardly modest little replicas of the quaint little houses that existed pre-1974. They are enormous five and eight bedroom villas with their own driveways, swimming pools and sea views.
Though the beer garden where I was sitting was not in the least bit posh or pretentious, it gave the feeling that it was fulfilling the need for one of many niches desired by residents seeking to realise their romanticised ideas of life in the sun.
I proceeded to the obvious question, which was whether they were worried about the recent ruling against the Orams. It seems that that name has taken on some kind of mystical, Macbeth-like status up there, as the five or six other heads that were until now engaged in their own conversation, suddenly turned to my direction.
One man sitting nearby, so deeply sunburned he resembled a beetroot, turned around clutching his beer.
“The GCs can take their tattered deeds and fuck off.”
The bluntness of his statement struck me as quite a perfect encapsulation of the general attitude shared by people who have purchased their property illegally.
There is an inherent awareness of the situation, both current and past, yet it seems that the Brits and other foreigners living up in Karmi – and most probably in so many other occupied Greek Cypriot villages – simply choose to employ the official rhetoric of the Turkish Cypriot leadership.
In their logic, because there was a ‘war’ and because the people who used to live in these houses ‘left’, a new system is in force where ‘empty’ property can be bought and sold by its new occupants.
The fact that just across the checkpoint, many of the land’s original owners have been living in refugee estates for 35 years does not feature in the thought process.
The beetroot man goes on.
“We paid for the land so it’s ours. We didn’t want anything to do with Europe when we were in England, and we don’t want anything to do with it now.
“The Greeks can’t get us off this land, ’cause then it would be exactly the same as what they say the Turks did to them in the first place.”
Eh? That was weird. I thought about trying to explain the futility of circular logic, but thought it best to finish my beer, draw some more scowls for paying in euros and leave.
Driving down the slope, the view extends for miles: Kyrenia harbour on my right, Lapithos somewhere to the left, and Turkey over the horizon and through the haze straight ahead.
I found it strange how these people, who for the most part seemed pretty normal and happy with each other, could justify their position to themselves without feeling the least bit of indignation.
The Orams case is not about the issue of Turkish Cypriots living on Greek Cypriot land, it is about foreigners unnecessarily impeding the possibility of peace on the island through their isolationist and anti-European attitudes.
Buying property in the north, either with or without the knowledge of the real legal and political situation, is a calamity because it has simply added to the complexity of solving the Cyprus issue for the simple enrichment of a couple of individuals – and the desire to live an island life at a bargain price.
Copyright © Cyprus Mail 2009
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Ex-pats in the occupied areas talking out of their arses!!!