by repulsewarrior » Tue Dec 14, 2021 6:47 am
In the cafe my grandfather enjoyed there was a picture of Kucuk hanging on the wall, with a map of Cyprus beside him and Makarios beside them.
...there was a map of the world on which he would quiz me, its places and names.
...indeed, you could say that those photos made me the person that i am, along with the photos in my grandmother's kitchen, man walking on the moon for one, a group picture of our President at the Commonwealth Conference sitting beside the Queen, the Queen as a child with her sister and mother on another wall, and of her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria on a wall of her own. I remember them well; no one made breakfast like her.
...by sixteen it was over for me, happiness, (i didn't know it then,) it was the last time i slept on earth i could call home, my home. By eighteen i was begging an Italian diplomat for news of my sister, pregnant at the time when all the bad stuff happened in '74. I have visited since then, Cyprus, i mean. Canada has been good to me. Canada is a country i care for as deeply. But i feel homeless; most of all i miss the trees, my trees, and the fields of wheat we cared for, ours, and that gave us not just a connection to the land we loved so much but a connection to a family having cared for them, so long.
Indeed, Lordo, please explain the relationship between Kucuk and Denktash; it is not so simple when each community was being torn apart within, as well.