Do you know who I am?
After his 20-year-old son was arrested for no apparent reason by plain clothes policemen, Costas Pereos, an official with the American Hellenic Educational Progressive Association (AHEPA) and personal friend of former EDEK president Vassos Lyssarides, went to Paphos Gate police station to ask why. He was refused an answer until he revealed his identity.
“When I asked [the officer] why he arrested my son, he replied that ‘he had the right to do so’,” Pereos senior was quoted last week by the paper as saying. “So I asked him to show me the law and his ID number, and he refused.”
Pereos senior was stubborn and stood his ground, asking to talk to the officer’s superior: “At first he [the officer’s superior] was trying to cover his policeman. After I told him who I was he apologised for the policeman’s behaviour.”
The case has already been making waves in Nicosia’s legal world with police chief Iacovos Papacostas ordering a provisional investigation into Pereos junior’s arrest, Lyssarides publicly criticising the policemen‘s behaviour, and Pereos senior looking into the possibility of legal action but all the above facts are not the main cause of my interest in the story. What fascinates me personally is the question the father had to pop out to make police communicate with him effectively. For the notorious ‘Do you know who I am?’ is something that I hear repeatedly in various surroundings on this island. And yes, in most cases, I have no idea who asks.
Now, let me make it absolutely clear that I have no intention of criticising Pereos senior for being practical and using the phrase under the circumstances. Actually, quite the opposite, I believe he did the right thing and in his place I would have done exactly the same (even though I don’t represent any American Hellenic lobby). However, when I think of how many times I have been asked the question in the most infantile situations you can imagine, I wonder whether it really is the only option the average Cypriot feels he has to get what he wants.
My problem with the ‘Do you know who I am’ argument is that once upon a time I also believed in its power. It was 36 years ago when I was six, wearing an astronaut’s costume and attending a masked ball at a primary school where my mother was a teacher.
It was all fun until my mother’s colleague, also a teacher, came up to me and told me to take part in a particularly silly game. I looked up at her and refused but she insisted.
“But don’t you know who I am,” I protested and the proverbial s..t hit the fan. She called my mother, complained to her about my impunity and then both of them scolded me for having the wrong attitude.
“Never, never again think that you are something special and you don’t have to do exactly the same things as other children,” my mother said. “You have embarrassed me enormously.”
It was a good lesson. I remembered it a few months ago when one of my neighbours started shouting at me because I told him he couldn’t block the whole narrow street with his huge jeep and had to park somewhere else.
“Do you know who I am?” he screamed at me making a huge mistake because, unfortunately, I did. “Yes,” I replied sheepishly. “You are not a very good painter.”
I wanted to follow the answer with an American joke but he started cursing me so violently I fled the scene.
The joke: “A small town prosecuting attorney calls his first witness to the stand in a trial – an elderly woman. He asks, “Mrs Jones, do you know who I am?”
She responds, “Yes, of course, I know, Mr. Williams. I’ve known you since you were a young boy. And frankly, you’ve been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you’re a rising big shot when you haven’t the brains to realise you never will amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you.”
The lawyer is stunned. Not knowing what else to do he points across the room to the defence attorney and asks, “And Mrs Jones, do you know who he is?”
She replies, “Yes I do. I’ve known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. And he, too, has been a real disappointment to me. He’s lazy, bigoted, he has a drinking problem. The man can’t build a normal relationship with anyone and his law practice is one of the shoddiest in the entire state.”
At this point, the judge raps the courtroom to silence and calls both counsellors to the bench. In a very quiet voice, he says, “If either of you asks her if she knows me, I will put you in jail for contempt of court.”
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