Life (in Cyprus) goes on...

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We have now been in Cyprus for 16 days. You do know, of course, that it is Northern Cyprus, more correctly, the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. It is not a real country, because it is only recognised by Turkey. A little like the Transkei in the 80’s. No, Transkei was not recognised by Turkey but… Work this one out for yourself.

The fact that we now live in a non-country has certain advantages and disadvantages. One of the advantages, though my publisher friend Stephen Naude may disagree, is that there are no copyright laws. I know of a number of people (some of which are called Chris), who wouldn’t mind that at all. I still need to explore all the possibilities that this particular form of lawlessness would afford me. One of the disadvantages is that goods may be a little more expensive here than, well South Africa (but only a little), and of course, the Southern part of the Island, inhabited by the Greeks. My erstwhile friends, the Anagnostari (Latinised plural for Anagnostaras), will probably land in their graves and then turn in them if they had to find out that this Afrikaner has betrayed them a second time (at least) by coming to the land of the enemy – THE TURKS. Evan Anagnostaras, the patriarch, has however once begrudgingly admitted that Greek cuisine was largely influenced by the Turks. But I digress (as Trevor Reynolds always said and did).

Back to life in Northern Cyprus: We are trying to buy a little runabout to make our lives much easier than they are now. The public transport is OK, but it is rather cumbersome to get on and off crowded mini-busses with two tantric (I know its wrong, but it does sound like the adjective describing a child throwing a tantrum, doesn’t it?) children, several bags of shopping, (including a number of 5 or 8 litre bottles of water). We were advised not to drink the tap water, not because its dirty, but because it has high levels of calcium or some other innocuous chemical, that may over time be bad for your kidneys if you circulate too much of it through you system. Water is heavy. 1 kg/litre. (For those of you who don’t know, that is one of the cornerstones reference points of the metric system). Fact is, lugging huge amounts around in taxis does tax (no pun intended) the almost 43 year-old out-of-shape body (to quote Rodney Dangerfield, I cannot even donate this body to Science-fiction). I have lost some weight – confirmed by an independent analyst, Jeanne-Marie, which is good, but a car would make our lives considerably easier. Apart from the comfort factor, a car would also allow us to explore more of this wonderful ancient country – well at least the Northern 40% of it. We can also go to Cuban Jazz evenings, and classical concerts in places like the Kyrenia Castle or the Bellapais Abbey, either one by one or depending on how long it takes to find suitable friends that can double as reliable baby sitters, both together. Danny has started school today as part of an evil plot by his parents to find people of the above description – baby sitters! There is also a possibility that we might be able to travel to the South, but different people we meet have different opinions about the feasibility of such an adventure. The only thing we need to guard against is that the Greeks in a rage of typical irrationality may throw us in a ‘damp dirty prison’ (Bob Dylan, 1963) for being “illegal immigrants” (personal communication, Republic of Cyprus Beaurocrat, Nov 2006), and throw away the key. But hell, the guy in Midnight Express made it out… No, that was a Turkish prison, but they all look the same to me. Just a note to the concerned family members – it is in all probability not dangerous and we will not take unnecessary risks.

But cars, according to ex-pat Brits of which there is an abundance on the Island (nice people, but sometimes the English is harder to understand than Turkish), are expensive. We have about £3000 to spend. Doesn’t sound like much, but convert it to Rand and you can probably buy quite a reasonable second-hand skedonk in SA. Here it is a little more difficult, so, anyone with a few thousand rand blocking their way to their favourite couch in their living room can apply for our bank account number and we will help you to get rid of your financial burden (obstacle).

There is much more to say, but I will try to write often. I’ll let you know about the kids and Jeanne-Marie and how they are doing. (I will also ask JM to write, so we can add a bit of laughter to the blog). Furthermore, I can possibly write a whole book, Douglas Adams or Monty Python style already about my experiences of the Girne American University. In the mean time, being a man of great spiritual discipline, I have decided to give up mieliepap, biltong, Castle, and Mrs Balls Chutney for Lent. I will have to make use of some of the local brew Leffe, not half bad, to help me through these trying times. Of course, we also appreciate news from the good ol’ R of SA and you can post it on this blog. Or, use viljoensincyprus@gmail.com. See ya…