The Astounding Beauty of Our World

When you look for Cyprus on a map, it is a tiny speck of land in the Mediterranean Sea, located near conflict-ridden countries such as Syria, Egypt, Iran and Iraq. I did not know anything about Cyprus before this trip, and I had barely even heard it mentioned. I am amazed at how this small dot on the globe has such a tremendous story. A beautifully powerful story that I was completely unaware of until two weeks ago. How many other countries and cities and towns and villages and individual people have such deeply beautiful stories that we don’t even know about? The number is infinite. I am grateful I was able to learn about Cyprus’s story and share it with those who have been following my journey. I told Zoe at dinner later on Friday evening that Cyprus is not just a place I visited. I feel involved now. I feel connected to it in many ways.

I told Andreas I did not know what to expect before I came to Cyprus. I thought the experience would be a valuable one, but it was not in the realm of my imagination that it would be this profound. It doesn’t take long for an experience to change you. It might take a year, or a month, or a week, or a day, or even only one, single second. I am so grateful to him for sharing his beautiful country, family, values, visions, and life with us. I like to believe our paths cross with people who we need at certain points in time. Almost like they are given to us to teach us something or to remind us of something. I feel like my path with Andreas crossed at a time when I most needed it.

My entire MBA group was visibly sad to leave. None of us expected the experience to be like this. We were all changed in different ways over the course of these two weeks. We carry a part of Cyprus back with us, but we also left a small part of us back in Cyprus.

I hope I am able to return to Cyprus some day. I hope it is to witness the barriers of wood, barbed wire, fences, and decades of heartache and bitterness erode away into the sea.  I hope it is to see the hearts and souls of the people of Cyprus mend to become whole again. Just imagine what an astoundingly beautiful event that would be for our world.   

With Heart

We presented to Andreas and his wife on Friday at 9:00 am at the University of Nicosia. We were so excited to share our ideas with them, because we had such a strong desire to help them in every way possible. One product of our project was two promotional videos about the Artisan Homes. One of the videos featured the relaxing aspects of the resort. We choreographed the video with the music of Andreas’s close friend and famous musician whose music he shared with us earlier in our trip (about the circle of life). I could see the emotion on Andreas and Zoe’s faces as the video started playing to his friend’s beautiful music and it moved me, too.

At the end of the presentation, Andreas’s wife Zoe told us she could tell we did not only pour our brains and creativity into this project. We poured our hearts into it.

That afternoon, Eric and I went to Andri’s home. She is one of the students from the University of Nicosia who worked on the Famagusta Eco City project with my roommates. She was kind enough to lead us in a yoga practice in her living room. At the end of the practice, she said something in Greek that sounded beautiful, so I asked her what she said. The English translation was: peace, peace, perfect peace.

After yoga, Dana and Kristen came to Andri’s house for a traditional Cypriot lunch, all cooked by Andri’s mother. We ate ravioli, meat soaked in wine, grape leaves, stuffed onions, salad, and wine. We then had coffee and dessert. We all laughed when, after dessert, her brother asked, “Do you guys want ice cream?” I’ve mentioned that Cypriots are known for their hospitality. Their generosity is unmatched anywhere else I have ever seen. Andri had only met me the evening before, and her mother had never met any of us. Yet, here we were, doing yoga in her living room and eating a meal her mother spent hours preparing that morning. Cypriot kindness is astounding.

That evening, we had a closing banquet with our professors, the VCU students, the University of Nicosia students, and our clients. This meant another meze feast. Endless plates of more delicious food.

Both sets of students talked about how they were shocked at how great the experience was. We all felt like working with students from a different country was an invaluable experience. Everyone always talks about how different we all are. But really, we are all the same. We may live in different countries, we may not look the same, we may have different customs. But we are all human beings trying to make it in this world. Trying to live, learn, love, fight for what we believe in, and do the best we can under our circumstances.

When it was time to say goodbye, I had a heavy feeling in my heart, like I had known everyone for years and it was now time to part ways.

The Hope for Wholeness

All of the groups spent Thursday either working or presenting their projects. My group was scheduled to present at 9:00 am on Friday, so we spent the day polishing up our presentation and paper. Two of my roommates, Dana and Kristen, worked on a project called the Famagusta Eco City project. They worked with Vasia and her mother, who I mentioned in one of my earlier posts. Vasia is a rising filmmaker who is currently residing in New York City, directing a documentary on Famagusta. She and her mother are leading a project to dissolve the physical and emotional barriers dividing Cyprus, leading to one, unified country.

Eric, Jenn and I wanted to attend my roommates’ presentation to hear their story and their recommendations. The Famagusta story is so profound in Cyprus. Its memories, pain and scars are embedded deep in the hearts and souls of the Cypriots who were forced to flee their homes. The ache has been passed on to subsequent generations who did not experience the event, but who feel the pain of their parents and grandparents.

After the presentation, Vasia’s mother spoke about what this vision means to her. She said, “This is what I do. I sit back and just dream. We are dreamers. We are believers. We have vision. Pictures are powerful, but ideas are even more powerful. I cannot make you fully understand the significance of this. It is not just a project. It is not just a conflict. This is about humanity. This is about sustainability. This is a symbol about sustaining humanity. This is about the survival of mankind.”

As she spoke, emotion poured onto her face and into her gestures. She raised her hand to her heart, tears welled up in her eyes, and she conveyed genuine passion, pain, and hope all at the same time.

I understood what she meant that she could not fully make us understand what this vision of unification means to her and to Cyprus. We can sympathize, but we cannot empathize. There are some experiences in life that cannot adequately be conveyed to others who did not have the experience. Not even the most detailed descriptions can inject the feelings and emotions into others. There are some things you simply have to experience to understand. Famagusta is one such example. We visited the city earlier in our trip and were forever moved by what we saw. We can imagine the pain, fear and sorrow the people felt forty years ago and still feel today, but we cannot understand on the same level as those who were part of the experience. People who have had the same deep, painful experiences together are bonded for life because no one else can quite relate in the same way.

Vasia and her mother were so touched that all of us are so interested in their vision. It is difficult not to be, as it is such a noble undertaking. Although we cannot empathize, our hearts ache for what we saw and our hearts hope Cyprus will become whole again.

I think about what it would be like if the unification happened in my lifetime. It is emotional to think about. I cannot imagine how it would emotionally impact the whole country and the people who experienced it after more than four decades of hoping.

One of the signs on the fence surrounding Famagusta reads: “Let us back in. You have locked our souls in there.” The country is not the only thing that is split in two. People’s hearts and souls remain divided as well, spliced down the middle, just waiting. Waiting to become whole again.

Amongst Mountains

We spent the first half of Wednesday working on our projects. We did not originally have a group trip planned, but my classmates and I asked if we could travel to the Troodos Mountains for a hike that afternoon.

The Troodos mountain range is the largest in Cyprus and is located towards the western side of the island. Troodos National Park is sprawled around Mount Olympus (also known as Chionistra), which is the highest point in Cyprus (6,404 feet high).

As we approached the mountains, the climate and landscape visibly transformed. The area looked less like a desert and more like a wooded area you might find on the east coast of the United States. The temperature dropped drastically, and towards the end of our hike it was actually chilly. The hike was short, but we walked slowly, slowly (siga, siga) to soak in our surroundings. If you randomly dropped me on the trail and asked me where I was, I would have never guessed I was in Cyprus. The area reminded me more of Shenandoah National Park in Virginia than anywhere else. At the end of our hike, we reached a waterfall and rested there for thirty minutes or so. I thought of the day Natalie and I hiked White Oak Canyon in Shenandoah with Eric and another one of my MBA classmates. We were supposed to hike 8 miles, but ended up walking 13 after we took a wrong turn. We saw over thirty waterfalls that day, and spent ten hours together laughing and learning.

After the hike, we stopped at a restaurant in the national park for a cup of Cyprus coffee and some traditional snacks: pitas and tzatziki, olives, hummus, halloumi, and sausage. It was so chilly I actually shivered. Compared to the 105-degree weather in Nicosia, it was a much-appreciated change in environment.

After eating, we boarded the bus and drove to the top of Mount Olympus where we enjoyed a stunning view of all of Cyprus. We watched the seemingly larger-than-normal sun as it set behind the mountains.

On the ride home, we learned that our bus driver is part of the Bicommunal Choir for Peace in Cyprus. We asked him if he would please sing for us. He took the bus’s microphone into his hands and started singing a beautiful song to us in Greek. We all listened in silence as we gazed out the window at the mountains passing us by. At this point in the day, the collection of green treetops that blanketed the mountains were partially covered in shadows and partially bathed in the light of the golden sunset. Our driver finished his song, and we asked him for the meaning of the words. The song is about Cyprus’s division.

“They say I should love my country. My father tells me I should love my country. But my country is split in two. Which piece should I love?”

Siga, Siga

We spent most of Monday and Tuesday working on our project at a local coffee shop called Segafredo. We’ve been responsible for a good portion of their business over the past week. They should know my Frappe metrio order by heart at this point.

On Monday evening, we all went out for a group dinner in old town Nicosia. We decided to walk, and after a solid three miles, I realized sandals wasn't the most intelligent decision I've ever made. We finally made it to the business district by 9:00 pm and walked into the kebob restaurant we went to for lunch on our first day in Cyprus. This is the place where they sell giant, three-pound pitas that should warrant someone getting their photograph up on the wall if they finish it. Some other group members had eaten there at different times over the past two weeks so by this point, the waiter and waitress were familiar with us, and greeted us like old friends.

Since there is less to report from Monday and Tuesday, I see this as a good opportunity to share my observations of Cyprus.

• Do not drink the water out of the faucet. You have to buy bottled water, which made me realize how much we take tap water for granted in the United States. All of us are constantly searching for more “nero.” In the Athens airport on the way to Crete, I found a water fountain that you could actually drink out of. I reacted like I had located the fountain of youth. 
• The first floor of a building is the ground floor and the second floor is called the first floor.
• You cannot flush toilet paper and must throw it in a waste paper basket. This is not just a silly warning. Do not flush it! We all speak from personal experience from making that mistake since it was automatic for us when we first arrived.
• People drive on the opposite side of the road and in the opposite seat in the car, which is evidence of British influence. The other evidence of British influence is “WC” on bathroom signs (water closet).
• It is customary for your waiter to bring you small desserts and/or shots of some mystery liquor or shooter with your bill (for free). I have gotten everything from jello-tasting shooters to some sort of clear schnapps that tasted like vodka gone terribly wrong. Since they had already cleared the table, I had nothing to chase the latter poison with. I had to chase it with a miniature piece of baklava they gave us. How Greek of me. 
• It is personally offensive to the waiter if you do not finish (or at least eat most of) your meal. The restaurant has cooked and served you a meal that they are proud of. If you do not eat it, it means you do not like it, which is offensive. Luckily, the waiters love me because I eat everything in sight. I do not have any issues clearing my plate. I have even assisted some of my classmates by finishing their plates too. You’re welcome.
• Drinks are not served with ice cubes. You have to ask for them separately and they will be served to you in a separate glass (ice cubes are called paghakias).
• Cyprus is way more environmentally friendly than the United States. There are on/off switches for each individual outlet. The lights are turned off in the hallways of public buildings and you have to turn on the hall switch. The lights will stay on for about twenty seconds. So in our building, unless you can race up four flights of stairs in less than twenty seconds, you will end up on the stairs in the dark. Good luck.
• If you buy fruit or other produce from the store, you have to weigh them at a specific weighing section in the back of the store before you check out. On my second trip to Carrefour, I entered the store confidently, thinking I had all of the differences figured out. I was wrong. I went to the checkout line with bananas that I failed to weigh earlier. I had to run to the back to the store to weigh the bananas and bring them back to the checkout line. I arrived back at the checkout station to a line of waiting Cypriots giving me the “she is not from here” look (in a friendly way).
• Backgammon is by far the most popular game here. On the beach, paddleboard is rampant.
• The drinking age is 18, as is the driving age. However, the drinking age is not heavily enforced, and some people we’ve talked to started going out for a drink as early as 12 or 13. 
• Some Cypriots have told us they do not hear many American accents in Cyprus. On some occasions, people thought we were British.
• The stoplights go from red to yellow to green instead of just red to green. I guess that way, you’ll be prepared to start moving again.
• There are a lot of stray cats and dogs.
• Getting into a bank at Cyprus is like trying to get into the Pentagon. You have to ring a bell for them to unlock the door for you. The five times Jenn and I tried to get in, the employees just stared at us and did not let us in. The only way we got in was because a customer happened to be exiting. The banks close at 1:30 or 2:00 pm and sometimes employees will come back after an afternoon break. Some banks don’t let you exchange money unless you have an account with them. If you’re trying to exchange money, isn’t that a good indicator you aren’t from this country and probably don’t have an account with the bank?

Greece is fairly similar to Cyprus. Although they do not drive like the British. I did notice that stop signs are arbitrary and mean nothing. At first, I thought my aunt didn’t see the first stop sign, but after going through three or four stop signs I knew something was different. She said if you stop, you will be rear ended. 

It's amazing how adjusted you become to a different country in only a short period of time. I have tried my best to learn (and to, of course, embrace) Cypriot culture, customs, and ways of life. 

As they say here: siga, siga. Slowly, slowly. No one is rushing through life. 

And the World Spins Madly On

My aunt’s second story porch faces east, providing the perfect opportunity to watch the sunrise. On Saturday evening, we decided we would wake up early to witness the start of a new day. I checked Google, and the sun would rise at 6:05 am on Sunday. My aunt woke us up at 5:20 am. Even though the sun wasn’t rising for another 45 minutes, a dark orange color was already creeping into the skyline, replacing the dark of the night. I sat on the porch watching the sky, picturing the Earth spinning me towards the sun. At 6:03, a pink ball of fire appeared on the skyline. I watched it inch upwards until the full sphere was in the sky by precisely 6:05 am. It’s amazing to me that the Earth is spinning quickly enough for me to visibly see the sun move, but not quickly enough that we actually feel like we are moving. I took several photographs of the event, wondering why my camera was not accurately capturing the colors and the beauty I was seeing with my eyes. I thought about how odd it is that such a spectacular event is so common, and happens each day without fail and, many times, without us even really noticing. 

We went back to sleep for a couple of hours after the sunrise. We packed up our belongings and took some final photographs of my aunt, Eric and I in her backyard.

We decided to head to the beach to snorkel before going to the airport. On the way, we stopped at a small, grotto-like church to light candles for Natalie.

For Natalie

The beach was beautiful, just like the ones in Cyprus. The clear blue colors of the seas here will never become ordinary to me. I swam for thirty minutes, observing the fish and plant life. 

Before heading to the airport, we looked at some Venetian structures in Heraklion. It is easy to discern Venetian architecture and structures, as they are massive, brown and stone. Walking to the Venetian fortress, I passed two separate drawings of hot air balloons. I stopped to speak (in broken Greek) to a woman selling art near the wall and purchased a painting of Heraklion for myself.

We boarded the airplane without any issues. I settled into my seat and continued reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, which was given to me by a sweet, special friend before my trip. As I started reading, I noticed the woman in front of me reading a Greek newspaper that had a small picture of what looked like a hot air balloon.

I was back in my apartment in Cyprus before 8:00 pm. As I watched the sun set on the drive to Nicosia, I was reminded that I am still spinning, spinning spinning. Moving forward with the weight of the world. 

Crete

We slept in on Saturday morning. The daylight was proof that my intuition that my aunt’s house had a beautiful view was accurate. Standing on the front porch, we gazed out at the city of Heraklion. The juxtaposition of nature and city life caught my attention. The busy city buzzed with life, but it was bordered by rocky, brown mountains, blue seas, and small, quiet villages. 

For breakfast, we had freshly squeezed orange juice and Greek yogurt with granola (mueseli) and honey (meli). I had filter coffee for the first time in a week and, even though I had been enjoying the endless Frappes, I realized how much I missed hot filter coffee.

We hopped in the yellow Hyundai and drove a short distance to nearby trails where my aunt walks each of the three dogs she rescued (Jasper, Cookie, and Danny) every morning. Each dog gets his or her own individual walk with my aunt. The woods and paths looked similar to the ones back home, and there were even pine trees. One slight difference: we were walking amongst an ancient Minoan cemetery. We trekked until we arrived at Fourni, the archaeological site of the cemetery. We arrived at the gates of the cemetery and found that the guard was absent from his post even though he was supposed to be on duty, letting visitors enter. We traveled all this way to see the site and did not want to leave without doing so. I made an exception to what I would do in normal circumstances, and Eric and I climbed and jumped over the tall, but manageable, fence. We walked down to the site and I was surprised at how well preserved the area was considering some of the tombs are from the 14^th century BC. The cemetery is believed to have been used over a 1,000 year period. The backdrop of the cemetery was scenic with Mount Juktas looming in the sky, overlooking the countryside and homes.

After the cemetery, we stopped at an ancient amphitheater, where they still hold concerts and events to this day. 

Later, we explored kato and ano Arhanes. The village is so simple and quaint, yet contains everything you would ever need. Afterwards, we headed into Heraklion to go to the Saturday market, similar to a farmer’s market in the United States, but much larger. You could do all of your shopping in this one spot and my aunt said, especially after the economy started suffering in Greece, many people do all of their shopping here, as it is relatively inexpensive. There was fruit, vegetables, fish, honey, spices, clothing, sunglasses, wallets, shoes and everything imaginable. I purchased a pair of Oakley sunglasses for 2 euros (clearly faux) and a pair of flowing pants that made me feel like I would look more legitimately Greek (ignore the pale skin and American accent, please).

We visited the ancient Palace of Knossos next, which is the largest Bronze Age archaeological site on Crete and is considered to be the oldest city in Europe. The palace was a city within a city, and served as the center of Minoan civilization. It contained living quarters, storage rooms, and workrooms. Impressively, the palace contained intricate drainage systems and even had bathtubs and showers. We also saw several altars where animal sacrifices were made to honor the Gods. 

Our tour guide was a reddish-haired, blue-eyed Swedish woman named Carin who immigrated to Crete thirty-seven years ago with her young son in tow. She was an interesting character: passionately knowledgeable about her area of expertise, but blunt and somewhat combative all at the same time. She provided us with an extensive history leading up to the Minoan civilization to give us context before entering the palace ruins. She mentioned several times how lucky she is to have a job she loves so deeply, since most people do not enjoy such a luxury. At one point, she said something interesting that remained with me. She said everyone believes in something. Even if you don’t believe in anything, you still believe that you don’t believe.

We entered the massive palace and toured the remains for about two hours. It was astounding how advanced such an ancient civilization was. Carin said history is cyclical, often repeating itself. The knowledge of mankind is cyclical as well. Over the history of the world, man has learned and forgotten, only to have to relearn it all over again. Carin said it is impossible to know for sure, but as many as 8,000 people could have resided in this palace at a given time.

Perhaps the most well known resident of the palace was the legendary King Minos, who is mentioned often in Greek mythology. King Minos prayed for a snow-white bull that he was supposed to sacrifice to Poseidon, the god of the sea. The bull was so beautiful that Minos decided to keep it and sacrifice another one of his bulls instead. Poseidon punished Minos by making his wife, Pasiphae, fall in love with the bull. They bore a hideous monster, known as the Minotaur, which was half man half bull. The name is derived from Minos (Mino) and bull (Taurus or Taur). Minos asked the architect Daedalus and his son Icaras to build a labyrinth to house the Minotaur, who was eventually slain by the Athenian hero Theseus.

Daedalus also built a dancing floor for Minos’s daughter, Queen Ariadne. Depictions of these events are illustrated in colorful depictions that still line the walls of the ancient palace.

After our tour, we traveled around the island and ended up in a place called Bali, where we had a quiet dinner on the water. Full from our meal, we relaxed on lawn chairs, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean Sea, a cool breeze gently lulling us to sleep.