TO THE inhabitants of the Pyrgos area, on either side of the Green Line, it is almost as if time has stood still for the past 40 years or so. First the intercommunal strife of the early 1960s and then the invasion in 1974 tore asunder the communities of Greek and Turkish Cypriots.
The easing of travel restrictions in April 2003 may have eased communication between the two communities, but for the residents of Kato Pyrgos and Limnitis, “trapped” in the northwest of the island, it seemed as if geography had conspired against them.
This past Friday, Greek and Turkish Cypriots sat down at the same table in a taverna in Kato Pyrgos, shared some traditional Cypriot food and drank wine, and caught up on each other’s news. No doubt the recent political decision to open a crossing point at Limnitis was a hot topic of discussion – and a cause for celebration.
This time, it was the Turkish Cypriots who were the guests. A week earlier, it was the Greeks of Kato Pyrgos who had crossed to Limnitis for a meal.
In both cases, the travellers had to spend more than three hours on the road to get to their destination; and yet their villages are only a couple of kilometres apart. The detour is necessary. If you want to get from Kato Pyrgos to Limnitis, you have to go around the Troodos mountains, then on the highway, onto Nicosia, and then cross into the north from the checkpoint at Zodhia. The Turkish Cypriots from Limnitis have to endure the same inconvenience.
For these villagers, their plight is not at all dissimilar to what goes on in the West Bank today. To give just one example from there – a commercial truck driver headed from Hebron to Jerusalem would normally need only about 45 minutes. Instead, Palestinians have to go round the West Bank barrier, bypassing Jerusalem, then to Ramallah and then cross the Beitunya checkpoint to reach Jerusalem. Israel requires all Palestinian commercial goods bound for Jerusalem to pass through a single entry point – the checkpoint at Beitunya to the north of the city.
Back home. Limnitis, a village located on the shores of the Morphou Bay, was a mixed community (though predominantly Turkish) during the 1960s. It’s now inhabited by around 450 Turkish Cypriots. Like Kato Pyrgos, the locals are mostly farmers.
Musa Feral, is a former civil servant. He used to work as a forest ranger for the government before the troubles that split the two communities apart.
“This [the opening of the crossing at Limnitis] is the best thing that has happened to us in years. It’s a dream come true,” he told the Sunday Mail.
Feral was speaking from the Kato Pyrgos taverna, having just arrived from across the divide.
In almost flawless Greek Cypriot dialect (he also speaks English), Feral explained how for Turkish Cypriots the opening of Limnitis is a “humanitarian issue”.
“All of us have had our share of bad experiences. I like to think of myself as a pacifist. We never stopped being friends with the Greek Cypriots of Kato Pyrgos, whom we know from before 1974.”
Now in his seventies – what you might call a town elder – Feral is the Turkish Cypriot chairman of the joint Committee for the Opening of the Limnitis crossing point.
The committee, unique in its collaboration between Greek and Turkish Cypriots, was formed as a pressure group for the opening of crossing points on the island, not just Limnitis. Its members have staged joint rallies, and have met with the leaders of the two communities, their chief advisors and UN officials.
“It’s been four years since we have been lobbying for a crossing point at Limnitis. You understand, this is a very big deal for us,” said Feral, momentarily switching to English.
Feral’s counterpart is Andreas Karos, the Greek Cypriot head of the joint committee. The two go “way back together”, said Feral, adding: “I also knew his father.”
The Sunday Mail spoke with Karos just as he was waiting for his Turkish Cypriot guests to arrive in Kato Pyrgos.
“We went over there [to Limnitis] last Saturday…now it’s their turn,” Karos said.
As a youth, Karos attended school in Morphou. The Turkish Cypriot village of Limnitis was on the way.
“Yes, I knew many of the Turkish Cypriots from there. They had a cinema at Limnitis. Sometimes, when the equipment broke down, I would go there to fix it.”
Karos, 60, agrees that the opening of a crossing point at Limnitis is a humanitarian issue, but says there are other benefits as well.
“As you may know, Limnitis is famous for its kolokassi and strawberries. Because of the situation right now and the long distances from Nicosia, you get middlemen from the capital coming to the area and buying the goods. Of course, the middleman has to get his cut, so the Turkish Cypriot farmers have to sell their produce for significantly less.
“The same goes for us. By the time we load the perishables on trucks and drive to Paphos, they’ve gone bad. All these little things, which become big things when you add them up, are about to change.”
Karos said the buffer zone in the area has long been demined. He anticipated that the road works cutting across the Green Line, enabling vehicles to travel to and fro, should get underway “within a month’s time”.
“Now that will be something…getting to Nicosia in 50 minutes,” he remarked.
