June 2017 in Cyprus
June 2017 in Cyprus
Without words I’ll start a small photographic presentation of every last month, as the wind through the moments and made them history – no forgotten history –
These are the selection from the snapshots I did, according mostly from accidental events, professional shots and my walks around the streets
I decided to do this every month as a small appreciation for the people and the moments were smiled to me !!
MAY 2017 in Cyprus.
The worst migration crisis since World War II. (The pictures are from Lesvos island, Greece)
I have no words to express myself, to describe the pictures or my emotions and I really I don’t want to do it.
The only thing that I know is that I went to Lesvos island to cover the arrival of the refugees with suspicious thoughts about them and after just one day I started “seeing” in several boats my daughter, my wife and myself
The deplorable living conditions of the enclaved Cypriot’s can be demonstrated by the simple recounting of their numbers following the Turkish invasion of 1974.
In July of that year the Greek Cypriot population of the area presently occupied by the Turkish army was 162,000. By the time the second phase of the Turkish invasion had been completed, in August 1974, 142,000 Cypriots were expelled or forced to flee, leaving 20,000, mostly in the Karpas peninsula (Report S/11488 of the UNSG to the Security Council dated 4 September 1974).
During the next four months, another 5,000 were forced to leave, resulting in a reduction of the Greek Cypriot population of the occupied area by 91% (Report S/11568, 6 December 1974, para. 43).
According to the latest report of the Secretary General to the Security Council this number has diminished to 427 Greek Cypriots and 165 Maronites (S/1122, 30 November 2001, para. 8).
The situation today seems better the enclaved are almost 350 people, the students in school of Rizokarpaso are only 19
On 24 of June in the school parents, students and official guests celebrated the closing ceremony of the school year
(EDITING by Slaviana Chekirova)
they walked together on both sides of the divided capital’s medieval center, first they went in the occupied old town of Nicosia and after they continued their walk in the free Nicosia.
both leaders spoke to shopkeepers and residents and the crowd applauded and called for a solution
Each leader spent around 45 minutes on either side, walking around and talking to people on the streets
August 15, 2014, Vouno village
Relatives and friends buried the remains of 34 Turkish Cypriots who were taken and killed,
exactly 40 years ago
Today, they were returned for burial ceremony at Vouno village (Tashkent) –
at the new cemetery built for them…
Vouno village was known as well as the `Village of the Widows’,
In cemetary there was such great sadness…Tragic figures of women and children of the missings
Dramatic stories, a cemetery full of pain, even the most hard eyes has tears
I have no words to describe the moments and maybe not need.
What can I say?
The pain have no borders
What can I say about the heavy pain of the grandmother now, which became widow
when she was a young woman ??
for the middle-aged daughter buried her father? or for the son?
I am thinking that so many years lack of hope, for the empty hugs, for the lost dreams
To talk about the facts? The event? None
I refuse to go into the process of the absurd, this vicious cycle of guilt, because we are talking for victims
……innocent human victims (sometimes children), lives lost, tormented souls
and on both sides.
I didn’t see any difference in front of the graves, Tourkish Cypriots or Greek Cypriots,
except the flags, the uniforms and the language… When you close your eyes, you can hear you can feel and “see”
humans in great sadness, humans crying, humans in pain,
( This grandmother Sultana Kasif, today buried her husband and her 3 children)
All humans in front the death, are equal
all the mothers when bury their husbands children, are mothers
We spent many years full of pain, fear, bereavement
39 years after the Turkish invasion, an island with two separated communities, a thousand of stories,
so many of which truly tragic,
so many ruins to remind you that you should not forget.
In almost every corner you can see the past not as a protected historic landmark space but with a great difficulty through much fear, just like in the forbidden dreams, like some nightmarish memories not letting you unsweat, even when burned by the scorching sun you still remain totally feraful sweaty even though the danger has passed, has it?
Sometimes Ι am wondering if I walk through history or I just wander around my very own imagination??
A little further pass me, horns, the noise of the modern city, around me, modern clothes, modern music, but somehow in an invisible matter the elements prevail,
It is forbidden to walk, see, remember, of course to do pictures…….
…..(as if, the Google maps does not exist?)
…..In the middle, memories, cheking Points, uniforms undercover and indifferent, diplomacy, strange looks, games, forces
……..the years go by, maybe sometime soon or later, they might change the signs to follow a more modern version of the forbidden