H. Irkad Baris Icin, 4 Mayıs 2003

Huseyin Irkad

 

The Lady Who Forgot

It was about six in the evening. The long winter had at last left us and spring with all its glory ascended over the once capital of Cyprus,Famagusta. Soon stars would appear and the prevailing wind of summer from the North would start blowing. The few orange trees left to fight all sorts of odds would disperse their scent over the city.
My wife was standing at the window filling her lungs with the scent of jasmines . the previous lodger had planted. It had stood against all climatic conditions till now My wife looked after it tenderly. Thanks that she did . The Greek Cpriots visiting our street and going araound were all attracted to it and requeted whether we would allow them to pick the newly opened blossoms.
This gave us both, we as Turkish Cypriots and the as Greek Cypriots, to start a conversation which in no time became very itimate.
"How are you?"
"Where are you from?"
"Are you the owner of this house?"
"Are you the people living here now?"
Qustions would bring new questions and in no time we would know pactically everything about each other. Soon all ice would melt and start addressing each other in the first names.
This time it did not happen like that.
There appeared a lady of about fifty, at the gate and seeing my wife at the window, .said.,
"Kyria"lady". Would you be kind enough to help me? I cannot find my house." . That was challenge enough to my wife to go down and meet the Greek Cypriot lady. My wife inquisitiveness arose and without further ado asked her.
" How could you lose your house.?"
Eleni, the Greek Cypriot lady, said,
"We, I mean my sisiter my dad and me started to built our houses. All at the same place. The pillars were erected and soon the builder would start with the remaing work . But the Turkish invasion struck and we left the town. My husband took us to London where we stayed and worked for almost twenty five years The house I lived then was at a different place. My father followed the developments. I only saw our house twice or thrice"
My wife said, "Isn't there any landmark in your memory that would help you to find the house?"
" I would not call it a house as only the main structure had been erected"
" But if you remember anything, just anything that you can remember we could start from there."
My wife's readiness to help her eased her mind .
It was evening and the sun with its glory was setting in the horizon.
"Yes," said Eleni." There was a church not far from the building site".
We knew a number of churches in the town. My wife accompanied Eleni and drove to the churh my wife had in mind.
The church my wife took Eleni, was also incomplete. The walls were half finished It was natural for Eleni to forget her house. At least my wife had offered her a land mark where to start from.
They returned in about half an hour's time. They could not find the house. As it was becoming dark they agreed to meet the next day and continue their search.
Eleni left feeling happy that somebody volunteered to help her.
My wife with a long gaze after her said, "Poor woman . They lived quite a hard time after they left Famagusta; they went to settle and work in London. They were very tired and had made enough money to maintain their lively hood. Her husband died about six months ago. She remembered that she had a house and with the money she saved she would complete it and pass the rest of her life there.

The next day she was at our door early in the morning. My wife was also waiting for her and without any delay once more started to go round the town.
She remembered the name of the street where her house was located but as names were changed with the Turkish ones it was impossible to search by the names they saw. They would not shed any light on her blurred memory.
They again started from the same spot . The apart the incomplete church all the houses around there were all complete and settled in. There was a possibility that somebody continued and completed the house. My wife and Eleni started looking at houses. Then a door opened. There was a man of about sixty at the door. He said that he would be happy if he could be of any help and invited them into his house From the way the man spoke my wife said that he was a man of culture .
"Let's see whether he can help us in any way"
Unfortunately the man was from Turkey. He was a major in the Turkish army and very recently retired. He liked Cyprus and rented this house to pass his retirement.
He said, " I know a lot of Greek Cypriots. I met some of them in İstanbul. I remember calling them as my dear friends, but one said," we are more than friends. We have been sharing the same geography for centuries. It will be more proper to call each other as close kins. It was this warm outlook that led me to make my choice about coming and living in Cyprus.
Still Eleni and my wife were not succesful to establish the whereabouts of the house. My wife suggested."let's go to the municipality. Definitely they should have maps there showing the old names of the streets.".
She was right. At the municipality a young man instantly rolled out the maps they had. "What was the name of the street your house stood?" he asked
Eleni said,"Artemis, Artenis street."
In no time the young man found the street. It was just in the opposite direction they had spent so much time going around .
The young man offered to take them to the said street. In ten minutes they were in Artemis Street.
There were no unfinished houses in the vicinity. But she at once remembered, looked insistently at three houses most probably comlepleted during the lapse of years . In one house lived a refugee from Turkey. Her husband also died about the same time Eleni'husband passed away. They had something in common. In no time they were weeping for their lost husbands.In the other buiding, a two storeyed house, two Cypriot Turks lived. They had spent quite a lot of money to finish them
"Yes we spent a lot of money. These houses have been our home for about twenty years. But when you return we will not hesitate to hand your house to you. You are the true owner."
Eleni could not hide her tears. To show her gratitute, she said,
"Next time I come we will make sish kebab and enjoy ourselves. I feel like as if I have found a family here."