Republished on the website “RELIGIOUS … OTHERWISE,” Mrs Elena Athanasiou
“I will not say for others. Little interested in the quality and attitude in such moments. Nor expect better treatment. And insults them, caress our ears and nothing changes. I will say to us, and forgive me: the day is coming when the mask is pulled violently. The day that our real self is revealed, we-we do not want, and with out make it good, frighteningly real. We need to look at is a matter of life and death. We have to ask, to tell us who we are. Why only knows.
We turn abruptly to saw a hole in the mirror. Where absent our face? Forgot it in small, humble, abandoned houses, low dust, stony ruins, graves illiterate, crude wise grandparents. There we left buried his true good mornings, the emotion of the lyrics, solidarity ton valuable and that people can not be measured in money. Since then, we went to the “modern world” faceless, naked, fighting to keep the thread of our being uncut, in difficult times, in a landscape that is not like us. We became Gentleman, investing the worst features of both components of the word. “I am married,” and say we stood dressed in grass hotels, with bags in their hands, without true heartfelt wish. “And our marriages, the cool rims and fingers, ginountai inexplicable enigmas for our soul.” Neither riddles or anything. Answered all, all lowercase. Big and empty. Left unconscious in front of the sanctuary, living a shiny, ugly, awkward, loveless, unholy, xodemeno present. Without memory, without a dream, divorced from our being.
The best guys we sell them. Let them spend their lives in books, in corporate offices, in lifeless accounts. The slaves did with managerial titles. Feed them money, studied money, learned to think of money, serve money, money to dream, to marry money, give birth to money, is money. The worst fluent English (these work) and miserable the best Greek (the island). When the money is missing, where would keep? Replace feast in the village square with bouzouki joint. In love with the strip club. Necessary for survival, with a jeep full of useless shopping. In her free time with overtime. We made the play of children overproduction in birthday order. We forgot what are the key components of our existence as individuals and as a society, replacing it with us to showcase polished. convinced us that the advertiser, television or magazine to be. Become supporters groups, fanatics with knives and hatred. Teen, before sick all groups equally, I was with Omonia. One day he was playing with APOEL, sick drummer opponents. They came to another stand and asked me to go on their own to play the drum. I went willingly.
Passed the weather changed. Forgot. They were divided into parties and voted blindly, were divided in a way unmatched in history and tradition. In a pinch site, saying “the other.” We got the worst of Greece and we axioms. To go to such good self, not to come back. Do not cry no, no do not miss him. In hell! The years passed. The girl from the Philippines wept secretly to his bed for the child and his mother left for serving coffee to the main pub, became Sir, to iron their pants expensive Mrs Androulla, who became Madame. The girl turned poor in Bagis City or in Manila. We embrace the mother would kiss her child. We, who returns?
What’s left when Sir and Madame, surprised, lose the car, the maid, the pike and their home? Tikypros1 kept unchanged through time, beneath the surface sinking? Where exactly is indelibly etched the deep characters, our allows, when everything changes, even to say “We?” We now have to decide again, everyone for himself and all of us, who we are. What is important and what is not. What’s worth a try until the end. What words worth saying before we left, how worthy to stand in the face of what, before we die. And, we can do even hungry, jobless and homeless. But it was impossible to make fuller and submissive, with a self-consumer dependent and happy.
We stayed in tents in the open for years. We lost forever homes, villages and lives. We waited every day for years, missing not returned. For decades, we heard an airplane and turns fearful eyes to heaven. Crosswise strips on the windows, not to break the bombing which could at any moment be resumed. Children who came to the school reading with candle in tents, winters in a row, swears in Greece by the Greeks, because they ate positions in universities. The Great Mom did not understand anything. And still does not understand. Why Cyprus can be Greek, but how little of Cyprus is Greece! How little Greek is Greece! Allow small and weak political one unprotected spot to behave like lords empire. Serve parties and pockets, like there’s no threat, danger and the cliff as if it is impossible from one day to the next to become crocodile bite. We saw the tender, pure smiles of the children of the liberation struggle used by barbaric, uneducated “patriots” with shaven heads, bald heads “from without and from within.” We have experienced injustice, loss, abandonment. We know them all, seen it all, experienced it all. Now we fear?
When the ’74 cried, cried for our homes. Today we weep for our mansions? Then cried for our village. We weep for the bank today? Then, for the graves of our parents. Today for our debts? Then, for our lives. Today for our jobs? … I do not think
Our society, this dissolved, incessantly pressing any formal political leadership, but also beyond it, will develop mechanisms to support the unemployed, take care of the children. Not out of charity. Of solidarity. And with the knowledge that if the person next to not live well, nobody lives well. Why, that never kept us in this place, it was a quirky, poetic, absurdly handsome social fabric that protects itself and protects us. This is what forced the deputies to say, even for a moment, “No”. The “No” of the Cyprus Parliament, it is more important than some may suspect malice. And let us return to the House Troikanous imploring them, and let fall on your knees, and let them lick their feet after. And let’s lose more. Why, even for a moment, resembled the Republic to make sense, a meaning forgotten for decades. Detective, even for a moment, the representatives actually represent. The time is recorded and stays, creating a precedent, despite any outcome. And the fact that the precedent set by half portion place dear sensible accountants do even more important. Nothing “your” will not stay ever in history, to signal, to determine, or at least something resembling existentially important. Allow us to rejoice. We do not often offered such joys.
This “No”, and seems to have had tangible results: Besides the possibility of non-taxation of depositors, other than the time frame given for the regulation of trade restriction and creating the Solidarity Fund, which can play an important positive role in the future, given the possibility, albeit fitfully, even at the last minute, albeit with disappointing results, to measure the forces and “friendships”, both Cyprus and Greece. Helped to cleanse the landscape, to finish with illusions to understand again how alone we are, how much responsibility we have. And those who believe that with a “Yes” will sozame something, the People’s Bank of Cyprus or the (really, how “our” may be a bank and with their jobs, or the labors of life that we trusted, not forget that whichever piece left us unprotected, anyway, and the “yes” and “no”, it mangled.
Unfortunately, it was not possible to have a “plan B”. It would not be written by people of my generation and the previous one, by people steeped in consumption, the ephemeral, the interest in and neoploutismo skypros5to nothing, a policy that has depth and seriousness. Yet these people, without safeguards, without reason, instinctively said “No”. Even for a moment. A “No” destructive and redemptive together, that you, dear Greeks mnimoniakoi, politicians and journalists, with a good excuse us, we will never know. Book will also be destroyed, saying “Yes.”
Cypriots prosfygopoioumaste again in our own homeland. We lose again life as we built, we think that the lecture as we thought that we own. And fear. Human. But what really afraid? Whatever you hungry? Hungry before. That will cool? Cool year. That would be alone? Were always alone. That would hurt? Nothing else than pain … that we conquer? Always we have been conquered.
Will we make it, we know it well! Why, finally, do not fear anything. Because, ultimately, the only thing we fear is the obligatory looking in the mirror. The only thing that scares us, is all we really have: our true face. Let’s dig, let’s remember, let’s look. While everyone, friends and enemies, our glare, while our mask falls dead, will smile upon us. “