DAYS 399 – 460: Cyprus, elections, and a bowl of goldfish

As a citizen of a ‘democratic’ country, I am compelled to exercise my right to the freedom of speech.  Expressing one’s thoughts and opinions about the current state of affairs has become a favourite past time, particularly in Cyprus.  The masses have invaded the corner coffee boutiques; these havens of backgammon and long winded frappe-drinking sessions, have rapidly transformed into parliaments of political rallies: troops of disgruntled people voicing their concerns over an ailing economy, a banking system that can only be deemed “effective” – if one is playing by their own rules, and a government that resembles a barnyard fiesta. 

Admittedly, one would not want to assume any administrative role during these problematic times, but one has to acknowledge the kindergarten antics of the faunae trying to manage the island.  And what’s more alarming, is the state of decay on the streets which are constantly overlooked by the disciples – the mayors, who believe that a few hanging plants, dotted around the old market, will disguise the string of bankrupt shops, lining the cash-stricken streets of the town.  I’m appalled at the notion of Pafos presenting itself as the “Cultural Capital of Europe in 2017” without any functional theatre in sight.  And even more alarming, is the confidence of these individuals, marketing themselves to the coffee-induced masses for a vote in the upcoming European parliament elections. 

Undeniably, there are a few worthy candidates floating around; fingers crossed for the honest, pro-active individuals to represent our injured nation abroad.

The local channels are airing their daily low-budget soapies; scenarios that could easily convince one to grab the nearest object in sight and cause self-induced bodily harm.  I reach for the electricity account, resting unopened on the coffee table; the amount due could easily impose heart failure.  I continue to work my way through the pile of envelopes, lost in a sea of supermarket specials, listening simultaneously to the news; the “Cyprus Problem” is on the agenda. 

“The focus of resolving our island’s four-decade division is of vital importance,” says the barnyard autocrat, pounding his fist on the podium as his glasses steam up.  A roaring applause ensues – members of his own political party, idolising their rooster.  A plethora of empty promises are made as the camera captures an ironic grin confirming a solution to the island’s division, no matter what the cost.  A thought bubble suggests that, “I will be the one who goes down in history as the man who resolved the Cyprus issue.”

More news.  The tourism board has reported that Cyprus is on the mend, thanks to the influx of tourists heading to our sun-soaked shores this summer.  A slight hint of optimism, as we begin polishing our social skills, fine-tuning our renowned joie de vivre, and practice our glass-balancing-on-our-head talent to impress the tourists.  In true Cypriot style, we unfurl the red carpet at both airports, raise the prices on our menus and souvenir items, and wait for our European brothers and sisters to help management  put our country back on track.

Weight for me soon. Paul

Paul Lambis has recently written, produced and co-directed a riveting war drama “74”, based on the 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus. He is also the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online, visit www.paul-lambis.com