It’s funny how history, occasionally, jolts you at the most inconspicuous of occasions. At a relative’s wedding recently, I had the good fortune of being seated amongst a family of purists’ enosists from Kato Varosha. Although politically and intellectually at odds with their ideological beliefs, I often sought and enjoyed their company.
These were relatives, friends, and in-laws, hard-working and honest people who displayed the finest attributes of the ‘decent Cypriot’ – in contrast to that modern hybrid the ‘ugly Cypriot’ who more and more frequents our pathways and narratives. Sentimentality being what it is, for a moment it enticed me to the solitude of kinship, especially of those dispelled by history and dismissed by their homelands.
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