Looking East

Posted by Sarah Waldrip on Jun 5, 2011 | 1 comment

“In the absence of light, in the deepening night, we wait for the sun, looking east.”

-Jackson Browne, “Looking East”

Walking in and out of the aged and eclectic streets of old city Nicosia, Cyprus (Lefkosia to the Greek Cypriots), it is hard to imagine that they have been stained with blood and tears for millenia; maybe it’s because we Americans are geographically sheltered from the violence that has plagued the Cypriots and the Eastern world for generations; maybe because the faces, peaceful as they go about their day, were seemingly content, enjoying a life of sunshine and simplicity, sharing the narrow alleyways filled with charming cafes, artisans and shopkeepers. Either way, the image of peace was maintained for only moments, and the reality of East meeting West soon became clear as we, blissfully naive, took our first stroll in the capital city of the island we will call home for the next month of our lives.

Our guide began our tour with an explanation of the medieval walls that still stand mostly intact around the old city area. Though the walls are clearly ancient, it would have been easy to overlook the historical and symbolic meaning of their continued existence. A public park now occupies the mote that was once dug as a desperate defense against the Ottoman invasion, and children play where thousands of indigenous Cypriots fought, died and were conquered in the beginning of a long and violent history of oppression, colonial rule and military occupation… It’s a history still being written as Cypriots continue to passionately pursue peace and independence from the forces threatening them from all sides, vying for control not only of their home, but also their hearts and minds.

We made our way down another narrow stone street past shop after shop filled with candy makers, tailors, bakers, jewelers and so much more. My curiosity about the islands socio-political history was peaked, however, as the line of shops abruptly turned to quiet, residential areas, and the tour guide suddenly became serious in her tone. We had arrived at the cease-fire line which divides the city, and the entire island for that matter, right in half. We were warned that absolutely no photographs were allowed of the soldiers, so we let down our lenses for a moment and proceeded.

Though it’s a description we have all heard and may think ourselves accustomed to imagining, seeing 18 year old boys in uniform, holding automatic weapons and looking at you suspiciously, has a way of snapping one instantly out of the dream and quickly into a very, very sobering reality. I couldn’t help but wonder how Americans ever imagined themselves understanding and valuing “freedom” when so many of us have never lived without it.

Nicosia is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, having been inhabited for more than 5,000 years according to our tour guide, and to this day the people struggle for the right to what has always been their home. The guide explained how the Cypriot forces guard the cease-fire line, while the greatly outnumbered UN forces are left to protect the buffer zone, the only thing that protects the south half of this beautiful island from further invasion from the north. And despite all this, the Cypriot people remain hopeful and determined to see the end of this, the beginning of peace, and the safe return to their ancestral homes.

It’s almost as if what I thought was reality all along was only what I imagined of reality, like a collage of all the images and factoids from history class and Discovery Channel that existed in my mind, carefully and optimistically put together into something that makes sense. The true reality, I discovered, is far less neat and satisfying than I had liked to think, and that the gravity of peoples’ sufferings, when faced with it first hand, moves me more deeply than any word, picture or thought ever could. The beauty of it all is that it is this feeling which drives us all forward, together, waiting for the symbolic sun to rise again and shed warmth and light on all people, everywhere. For the Cypriots, the sun is long overdue, and many wait in suspense, looking east.