Halcyon Days...

There are days in winter when the sky is bright blue and there is a light wind blowing. The sun sends sparkles on buildings and cars and the open sea is as smooth as oil. We call these days Halcyon Days. I sit and marvel at the beauty of this island. You find beauty in the most unusual places, a dilapidated building in the old town overgrown with wild flowers reminding us of days gone by. The shiny new buses taking their passengers to their destination, the puddle of water left from the recent downpour. All has its beauty and this is just in Limassol. If you venture out into the nearby countryside and villages, there is another beauty awaiting. The old bridges and streams, the trees casting shadows on the moss grown ground below. The quaint village houses and the slow village life, the little church waiting for its worshippers to arrive and fill it up.

 There is an inner peace in all these places, a peace which calms you, taking you faraway. There is a deep feeling of nostalgia mingled with it. I am reminded of the summer days when I used to come to Cyprus on holiday, when all I saw was beauty, pure beauty. There was never anything to distract me from loving this place with all my heart. Over the years this feeling has been cast over with complaint and I fell into the trap of only seeing what was wrong with this island, but the warm feeling has come back. I may complain at times but this doesn't stop me from seeing what the island really is, a gem in the Mediterranean, an island which many in history longed to conquer. Now it is conquered by curious and eager tourists who come and fall in love with this island, most of the time anyway. 

If only islanders could see what tourists see. If only they could stop for a moment and look beyond their everyday lives. On Halcyon Days the island lights up as if a torch from the heavens sent a light so bright that everything shines. We Cypriots sometimes forget how lucky we are. With so much tragedy happening in the world, we have got it good. Let's stop for a moment, forget about all the wrongs and look at what a precious place we live in.

*In the myth of Alcyone, Halcyon Days are seven days in winter when storms never occur. It refers to calm, peaceful days.

Shame about the weather...

Well it's finally winter and I'm wearing my woolly jumper sipping a cup of hot chocolate. How ideal. It wasn't on Friday when the heavens opened and the island was put in utter chaos. Roads became blocked from the gallons of rain, since our drainage system is non-existent. There were power cuts in schools and offices from the lightning. It's typical really. Rain always seems to do this in Cyprus. The island is put on standstill because we are just never prepared for the worst. 

The driving in these conditions tells it's own story. I must have seen about six accidents in one day. Cypriots forget that if the road is slippery you must break not accelerate. Of course the weather was a big issue on the news. One elderly woman nearly drowned from all the water which rushed into her home. Valleys became rivers. It's a shame they forgot to close the dam resulting in all the water going into the sea.

We should be happy that it's raining, right? Not so. Instead of moaning about the heatwave we're complaining about the cold and wet weather, that we're constantly freezing and that we have to turn on the central heating. We were fed up with wearing sandals, now we are annoyed because we have to wear tights under our trousers in the early morning. 

At least it feels a bit more like Christmas and there is a possibility that we can light the fireplace on Christmas Day.You never know it might even snow in Limassol. What mayhem that would cause but what joy it would bring on some young faces, but not on the street cleaners when it turns into slosh. You see, we are never happy.In a couple of months the novelty of winter will have worn off and everyone will be hissing with complaints. Shame about the weather...

Rebels with a Cause...

There is a universal truth that the youth of today are angry and frustrated and try in different ways to express their anger and frustration. Like everywhere Cyprus is no exception. I see it every day when I am teaching. That restless youth that sits outside the frontistirion sending messages on their phone, the apathetic listener slouching and swinging on the chair only vaguely listening to what I'm saying. It's often difficult to engage them. Nothing can break that reverie. There's a lot of pressure on youth these days from all areas. Parents, teachers, peers. They get sucked down and try to find ways to escape. It is not surprising that the walls of our neighbourhoods are dotted with graffiti, often seen as vandalism although some of this graffiti is quite creative.

We live in a materialistic culture where an eight year old now has their own high tech phone and i pod. It's as if the parents are trying to fill the void of not really being there for their children. They buy them things to keep them quiet although we all know that isn't the answer. There is lack of communication, divorce rates are sky high and the victims are the kids. This has meant that society is brimming with resentful youngsters who feel betrayed, cheated even. They are not listened to. They have no voice.Their parents continue to spend money on them, buying them the latest PSP or Playlife T-shirt, squandering vast amounts of money on their education so that they get into the universities the parents want them to get into. They mould their young lives to suit their needs. This is causing a boomerang effect. There's a lot of disenchanted, disconnected and jobless youth out there and too many accountants doctors and lawyers. I suppose there's not much job variety on the market. Where in Cyprus could you be a publisher for instance? Your options are limited. Those who can, live abroad and find their dream jobs and those who can't just have to stick it out and work in Coopers.

 The Cyprus Problem doesn't help the situation. We are too small to be divided. What richness and diversity would this island have if we were united, Greek-Cypriots and Turkish-Cypriots. We could learn from eachother, open eachothers' eyes. The problem will not be solved in the years to come. It's the children who are born now who will solve it because they will have to. The new won't carry the burden of the old. They will refuse to do so and will embrace new beginnings. I will be old when I see Cyprus united.

At a bar the other night I sat around a table with some friends. There was a live rock band, strumming old and new rock songs on the guitar.The crowd was young, younger than me and my friends. Dressed casually they smoked and drank Carlsbergs huddled together in corners of the room, girls and boys. The singer sang songs which mattered, which touched the hearts of this youth, their hopes and fears, their anger. For a night they could be themselves, not restricted by teachers or parents.I sat listening and watching them. What would they become, I wondered? If only you could take each individual and tap into their potential, how amazing that would be, but that is far from reality. Youth deserves the best and sadly society is not giving them what they truly need and deserve.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

It's 30 degrees and going up and I am sitting in my air-conditioned car wondering why there is a rotating Santa Claus on the Ayios Nikolaos roundabout, why Orphanides has started humming its Christmas jingle songs. And so it is Christmas, but far from a white one. It's worrying really. Apparently Cyprus is going to turn into a desert of sand dunes and camels. That will pose a problem for propping up Christmas trees. It's funny if you think about it. We have the same climate as Australia at the moment. All we need is to get the Santas on the jet skis!

Christmas in Cyprus and I guess everywhere else brings out the compulsive buyer in everyone. I see people coming out of Jumbo with a trolley stacked to the brim with toys. In LIDL the other day I heard there was a commotion between customers about some cheap food mixers. One customer wanted to  buy four and there was a fight because someone came and snatched one from the trolley. Only in Cyprus, is all I can say.  

Furniture shops also have a field day.It is time to change the living room. How else will we greet our guests for Christmas? The hypermarkets will start advertising their supposed rock bottom prices, two for one and all that. The Mayors will open the lights on the Avenues eventhough we are still in shorts, T-Shirts and sandals. It just doesn't feel like Christmas. My winter clothes stand in my wardrobe waiting patiently to be worn. I want to wear a scarf and a woolly hat! To be fair, I suppose we've got it good. The Brits and Russians are shivering in their pants and we are preparing to go to the beach but I can't help believing that Chritnmas equates to winter. It's actually quite cliche really but that's how I see it. England got lots of snow last year. The closest to snow we'll get in Cyprus is the pretend one used to sprinkle the Christmas tree in Four Seasons.

The actual day for me is a bit of an anti-climax. You greet and kiss everyone, give them their pressies and then eat like it's the end of the world, have a bit of Christmas cake, watch Home Alone and snooze on the couch and that's Christmas over. It's never like that in the films. There's a lot to blame Christmas films for actually. They've built an image of snow covered wooden huts and a roaring log fire with Santa and his sledge which is rarely close to reality. Christmas is in fact for children. By the time you reach 13 Santa is officially dead. One thing for sure, is that Christmas brings out the goody two shoes in everyone. Just for a day there is no blasphemy or bad word said about anyone. People's thoughts go to the children less fortunate but it's all so fake because once Boxing Day gets into full swing, all the goodness is forgotten and everyone gets into their old habits again.

On the news the other day I saw the giant Polish statue of Jesus which boasts to be the biggest in the world, appropriately finished for Christmas. If Jesus was alive he would be furious because it represents everything that he was against, pomp and arrogance. People have forgotten that Christmas is meant to celebrate the birth of Christ who let's remember was born in a modest manger with animals. There's no pomp and circumstance in that, just humility. This is only got through to the five year olds who perform their nativity plays every year. It's all about buying and showing off.  Everything has turned into materialism of extreme proportions.

It's the most wonderful time of the year it says in that song played in Home Alone 2, showing wintery New York and young Kevin booking himself into the Plaza. If only you could feel it...

Food, Glorious Food!

Foreigners who come to Cyprus have always talked of Cypriot hospitality. Cypriots love to welcome people and make them feel at home. There is a warmth in their gestures, an earnestness in their chatter. They want you to get the best view of their island and come again. Food is a Cypriot way of welcome. What better way to please, than to fill up the stomach. My godfather, an astute businessman often uses food to sweeten up his associates and it usually works!

One of the best known Cypriot food moments is cooking the souvla (big pieces of meat on skewers) and it is often done on a special occasion with plenty of company. At my grandmother's house the guests begin to arrive one by one. My grandfather, father and uncle gather around the fokou (barbecue). The men take pride in making a good souvla. There will be disagreements on whether the souvla is too raw or too well done or whether the coals need to burn more. Conversation mingles with the zivania which is drunk profusely. My uncle starts a story about a "kalamara" (Greek mainlander) conman who came to his garage and tried to sell him stolen Sony Ericsson phones. Then it's about football and politics. Both are given a bleak picrure." They will never get into the Champions League," declares my uncle. " Those left wingers have sent the country to the dogs!" chants my grandfather.

The table is laid with olives, fetta cheese and pickles. Halloumi, spiced sausages and pitta bread are cooked on the fokou. The smell wafts through the neighbourhood. My grandmother hobbles around trying to get everything on the table. My aunt mixes the salads and nibbles at a bit of fetta.But the food doesn't end there. There is makaronia tou fournou (pasta) and koupepia (stuffed vine leaves) too, with tzantziki and houmous for extra dips.You eat because if you don't, your host will be offended.
There is never silence on the Cypriot table.Different topics come up and it's usually centered around food. How the new butcher sells his meat, what's fresh at the local market and recipes. Then someone, usually me, randomly says "There's going to be a storm tomorrow" and everyone knows there isn't but that opens a whole new topic on drought and if it will rain enough this year. My aunt starts a conversation on whether Chrysoulla has finished her five storey mansion with the swimming pool. That she's in debt because she has built above her means. If little Nikolas has been christened and what his godmother wore. I feed the cat under the table as I listen to this idle chatter. The voices are familiar. I feel a contentment of having my family all round one big table.

Sweat beads start to appear on foreheads and regrets on eating too much. Bellies popping out of trousers and toothpicks at the ready, it's time for dessert. My grandmother is a connoisseur on desserts. There is baklava and jelly with the creamy lemon base, chocolate cake from Patisseri Panayiotis and fruit. There's always fruit. You eat eventhough your stomach is going to explode because it's food.
The chatter slowly dies down and guests start to leave. The party is over but everyone has been fed. The job has been done. I help pick up the empty plates with the chocolate crumbs and half-eaten apple. Food once again has managed to bring a family together for a night. It's amazing what food can do.

The importance of a mass produced wedding...

My most recent wedding experience was a disaster. As is known you must wait in line to congratulate the bride and groom and of course produce a tiny white envelope with your gift of money. Cypriots are very good at waiting in wedding queues. There were minimal complaints.I waited for an hour in the queue. A queue which formed from left to right, so in fact it was a crowd of people.

The wedding was a mass produced affair. What do I mean? Cypriots have a tendency to invite anyone and everyone to the wedding, from the local hairdresser to the local butcher. This of course is to get the money (that is if they don't get an empty envelope which has happened) and which will help pay for the exquisite eccentricities. The candles with the glitter and the tiny pink stones surrounded by flowers in crystal vases. Then it's buffet time where you can eat and drink as much as you like. There was pushing and shoving to get to the cutlery only to be confronted with overdone pork and greasy potatoes and a salad which seemed like yesterday's. Then the music started. If you want to have a decent conversation with someone, you can't. I have heard that there have been weddings when the bride and groom are lifted from underground on a podium to be greeted by claps and cheers and the best bit? They are in a red convertible beeping the horn. I guess people have tastes, but a red convertible?

The bride and groom had their first dance and this was an opportunity to have a good look. The bride wore extreme makeup. The eyeshadow was dark blue with silver and lashings of mascara. The dress? Too many frills, and meringuish. The groom? His hair slicked back in a ponytail, shiny shoed. Despite the over-extravagant theme and all the chaos, there emerges one thing which usually comes across during the dance. Two people who believe they are made for eachother.At least you would hope so anyway. But why mass production? Surely at your wedding you only want to be surrounded by your close friends and family. What's the point in shaking hands with a bunch of strangers? For the money? Have something low key so your costs don't hit the roof. It's simple really.

When I got home that night my feet were killing me and my ears were ringing from the music.I had gone to the wedding as an observer to congratulate a newly-wed couple I hardly knew. Why did I go? Probably for the same reason that all the other hundreds of people had gone. Out of pure curiousity. Plus I didn't have anything better to do that night! It was a wedding, however over the top with the glitter and the stones and the ribbons and the bride's overdone makeup. It was a celebration. " Na zisete" I had said when shaking the couple's hands " Congratulations." I guess I meant it.

Limassol...

Limassol is a coastal town on the southernest tip of the island and is where I live. Tourists are often baffled by Cyprus' actual size. Some arrive believing they can drive round the island in a day. That's not so although other towns are in close proximity. Nicosia to the north is a good 40 minute drive, the same with Paphos and Larnaca. Of course it depends how fast you drive. Islanders love to break the record with their reckless driving skills.

Back to Limassol. To me it is by far the best town with everything you would comfortably need. Trendy cafes and plush restaurants,clubs and bars, two cinemas, two main theatres, shopping malls,boundless supermarkets and much more but the highlight is the sea. This is what gives this town its soul, its warmth, something that the capital, Nicosia can't boast in having. Recently the mayor has given the town a facelift especially the sea front. People walk and cycle down in the evenings and in the summer months there is nothing better than strolling down with an ice-cream, casually observing the goings on.
There are two main events Limassol is famous for, the Carnival in February and the Wine Festival in September. They are times of great revelry when the locals really pull out all the stops. The atmosphere especially during carnival time is electrifying. The colours, the costumes, the decorations, the confetti in the streets are dazzling to the eye.

Time passes quickly in Limassol for me at least. If there's not one thing to do there is another and if it's not summer with all the beachifying it's Christmas with the town lit up for the festive mood. Let's not forget the giant rotating Father Christmas down town on the Ayios Nikolaos mini roundabout!At Easter it's a giant multi-colured Easter eggs.

As the great Frank Sinatra once sang about Chicago, Limassol is my kind of town.