FROM OUR ARCHIVES: Stories from Omorphita (In English, Turkish and Greek)
Stories from Omorphita...
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Tel: 99 966518
It was Ali Zeybekoghlu who had first told me the story of a little Greek Cypriot girl of 11-12 years old who had been killed in Kuchuk Kaymakli (Omorphita) back in December 1963... He wanted to take me to her family...
`They are such wonderful people, you should really meet them... Even though the girl had been killed by some Turkish Cypriots, her sister Elli, her husband Kotschios and the mother Christalla have no hatred in their hearts... They are very good friends with us...`
Of course we would go but always something came in between: Let me go and show this burial site and that burial site, let me finish this interview and that meeting... Three years flew by until the day Ahmet Hasan would tell me about that little girl who had been killed in Omorphita... His uncle had been close friends with Hambis and they had been good neighbours... When I wrote this story Elli, the sister of the little girl would call me one day... Elli Venizelou, the daughter of Hambis the confectionary, remembered all her Turkish Cypriot neighbours and friends with fond memories... We would go to visit her in her house in Omorphita, close to the dividing line together with Ali Zeybekoghlu... Three years after Ali had told me about her, we would manage to go and see her...
Elli Venizelou who had been a hairdresser in those good times in Omorphita had a lot of Turkish Cypriot customers:
`The young women would come to me... I had done the hair of the wife of Hasan Ruso for the wedding, her name is Melek...`
Hasan Ruso, as well as Huseyin Ruso would be killed by some Greek Cypriots in Omorphita and Huseyin Ruso is still `missing`... Elli had their photos, almost an album full of photos of Turkish Cypriots of Kaymakli (Omorphita) whom she knew...
`I knew the father Ahmet Ruso who had a bakery in Kaymakli... I would go every day to this bakery to buy bread from here; it was next to my house. Once a week they would not bake bread, on Sundays, so that everyone would prepare meat and potatoes and take it to the bakery of Ruso to be cooked in his ovens... Both Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots would bring their trays of food to Ruso to be baked...`
Ali had been childhood friends with Costas Kotschios Christaki... They would play marbles – Costas had a spintop that made Ali very jealous.
`Costa's mother was Maritsa... As a child I always felt at home in Costa's house. We would come and go as though our home...`
Elli's mother Christalla had been very close friends and neighbours with Huriye, the midwife of Kaymakli. Huriye had also been treating those who had dislocated arms or ankles and would even treat broken bones...
`Huriye would come every morning to my mother and they would have coffee. There was no difference between us. I remember Huriye's daughter Fatma and her children Adnan, Feridun, Ferit, Ahmet, Sonay, Hulya... I remember Ahmet Altiparmak who had been close friends with my father...`
At the end of December when fighting began in Kaymakli, a lot of people had gathered in the house of her father Hambis... Elli remembers this well:
`Some had gone under beds, some under tables... Everyone was trying to protect themselves... Some Turkish Cypriots were shooting at our house and bullets were coming from doors and windows... Then my little sister Georgoulla got shot... This was the 24th of December 1963. Then we put her in a car together with my mother and someone to take them to the hospital. But as the car started, Turkish Cypriots opened fire and the driver left the car, my mother bending over to protect little Georgoulla inside the car, she herself got shot from 24 places – her back was full of bullets... Then someone else tried to take them to the hospital...
When my sister had got shot, she had started crying and saying to my mother, `Call Huriye! Mama, please call Huriye! She will treat me and make me better! Please mama, call Huriye!...`
My sister had died one day after she had been shot but since my mother was also wounded heavily they did not tell her for two months that her daughter had died. My mother kept enquiring about her and the doctors would tell her, `She is in another room...`. Two months later, Makarios would tell my mother that her daughter had died. They sent my mother to East Germany to be treated and the doctors there said it's better to leave the bullets where they are... Since those times, she's living with those bullets in her body...`
We speak of the Greek Cypriots of Omorphita killed by some Turkish Cypriots... Stelios Andreou is `missing` since 1958 – he had gone drinking in Kamil's coffee shop and he `disappeared` from there. Apparently they took him from there, killed him and burned him in a kiln (gamini)... The wife could never get back his body... Ali remembers that there was this place called `Tabana` in Omorphita where they used to slaughter animals and in 1957-58 some Turkish Cypriots had killed an old couple, an old woman and an old man... He also was a witness to the killing of Andreas Michail in 1963... While Andreas Michail was riding his bicycle some Turkish Cypriots shot him... `They fired at him maybe 50 bullets... He fell from his bicycle and died...` His brother could not recognize his body... It was only after three days that they took him to bury him... There was also Arestis Louka who had been sitting in the coffee shop in 1958 when a carful of Turkish Cypriots from TMT would come and fire at the coffee shop and he would die... In 1963, Charalambous Spirou would be killed near Regis... And yet another one, a young boy of 15, who had gone out in his pyjamas on the 23rd of December 1963 to his garden and they would shoot at his head – the young boy would die... And so many Turkish Cypriots who were killed and who went `missing` from Omorphita... Some taken from their homes by some teams of Sampson and later `disappeared`, some who went back to Omorphita to take some quilts and beds and some clothes because they had to flee to Hamit Mandrez and they would `disappear`... We are still searching for those Turkish Cypriots who went `missing` from Omorphita back in 1963... What a shame to both sides who have their signatures of death under these terrible killings...
When the checkpoints were opened in 2003, Ali Zeybekoghlu would try to find his childhood friend Kotschios. They would meet and since than have been seeing each other. Ali also took them to the championship football match of Kuchuk Kaymakli couple of years ago and there are photos from those days...
Ali who has two `missing` from his close family who `disappeared` in December 1963 from Omorphita says, `This family is so special... Imagine the mother of Elli, Christallou who lost her daughter in the conflict and she herself got wounded... I went to visit her and we spoke in Turkish... She speaks Turkish very well. She told me "I missed speaking Turkish`... Both Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots have killed but despite her suffering, Christallou never said a bad word against Turkish Cypriots... Our families know each other well... I don't want our mothers and fathers to cry, we all made mistakes, let us have peace and let us not fight... They killed people from my family too but I have learned to live with that... There are no scales to measure whether Turkish Cypriots or Greek Cypriots have done more evil things, there is no such scales... Both sides did this... Let us not kill each other, let our mothers not cry... Whether they are Turkish Cypriot or Greek Cypriot mothers, they should not have a reason to cry...
In Kaymakli with Kotschios we were like brothers, our mothers used to send the food they had cooked that day to each other... We used to sleep at night our doors and windows open... We had such days... We used to go to the cinemas together, there was a Salih Dayi with a leohoriyo (bus) who would put us all in his bus and we would go to the Crystal Cinema or other cinemas together, Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots...
I have a doctor, a cardiologist who saved my life... I was so sick they had dug a grave for me, waiting for me to die... But Dr. Marios Kasianides, he saved my life... If I am alive today and my heart is beating, I owe this to him. He took such good care of me and gave the real meaning to the Hippocrat Oath of the doctors, never discriminating... Since the last seven years, he's taking care of me... I just heard today that he had a heart attack and I felt as though half of my heart stopped. I just called him and spoke with him, wishing him to get well quickly... One day, Elli called me saying that Kotschios was sick and to help him to make an appointment with Dr. Marios Kasianides. I called Dr. Marios and explained and he told me, `I don't know whether to laugh or cry, a Greek Cypriot is asking for help from you to make an appointment?!` `Yes!` I told him and he helped Kotschios... I want to thank him and express my appreciation to him – I owe my life to him, I had two by-pass operations and he took very good care of me...
Cyprus is such a beautiful island, it can take both Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots, it's enough for both... Let us not argue, let us not fight anymore... Let us have some peace on this island so that our mothers will cry no more...`
23.6.2012
(*) Published in the POLITIS newspaper on the 15th of July 2012.
Kıbrıs: Anlatılmamış Öyküler...
Sevgül Uludağ
Caramel_cy@yahoo.com
*** 1963 çarpışmalarında 12 yaşındaki küçük kızkardeşi Yorgulla öldürülen, annesi Hristalla ağır yaralanan Küçük Kaymaklılı Elli Venizelu, insanlık dersi veriyor: Küçük Kaymaklılı Kıbrıslıtürkler'i sevgiyle anıyor...
Küçük Kaymaklı'dan hatıralar...
Elli Venizelu ve ailesinden bana ilk kez Küçük Kaymaklılı Ali Zeybekoğlu bahsetmişti...
"Öyle bir aile var ki, mutlaka onlarla tanışman lazım" demişti... "Küçük kızları 1963'te Kaymaklı çarpışmalarında öldürüldüğü halde, Kıbrıslıtürkler'e hiçbir düşmanlık beslemediler... Kıbrıslıtürkler'i çok severler... Mutlaka bir gün gidelim..." demişti.
Bugün-yarın derken kısmet olmamıştı gidip bu aileyle tanışmak...
Dernek geçtiğimiz aylarda bir gün Ahmet Işıman, Kaymaklı'da öldürülen o küçük kızı hatırladığını, bu ailenin kendi ailesiyle yakınlığını, öldürülen kız çocuğunun Tatlıcı Hambis'in küçük kızı olduğunu, Tatlıcı Hambis'le dayısı Ahmet Altıparmak'ın baklava yapmayı nasıl denediklerini, Küçük Kaymaklı'dan hatıralarını anlatırken anlatmıştı... Ben de Işıman'ın anlattıklarını bu sayfalarda yayımlamıştım, aynı yazıyı Kıbrıs'ın güneyinde her Pazar yazılarımın yayımlandığı POLİTİS gazetesinde de yayımlayınca bir gün telefonum çalmıştı. Arayan Elli Hanım'dı... Tatlıcı Hambis'in kızı Elli Venizelu hanım... Bana Adnan Işıman'dan, Ferit'ten, Feridun'dan, onların anneleri Fatma Hanım'dan, neneleri Huriye Hanım'dan söz ediyordu... Elli Hanım, Ali Zeybekoğlu'ndan da sözediyordu...
İşte bu Elli Hanım, Ali Zeybekoğlu'nun beni götürmek istediği aileydi... Bu Elli Hanım, Ahmet Işıman'ın bana sözünü ettiği küçük kızın ablasıydı...
Ali Zeybekoğlu'yla birlikte Elli Hanım'ı ziyaret etmeyi kararlaştırmıştık. Aslında Ahmet Işıman da bizimle gelecekti ama o gün çalıştığı için gelememişti ve ne acı tesadüftür ki bizim Elli Hanım'ı ziyarete gittiğimiz gün bir iş kazası geçirip hastaneye kaldırılacaktı... Elli Hanım, Işıman ailesinden de birilerinin kendisini ziyarete gideceğini sanıyordu... Ahmet Işıman'ı telefonla aradığımızda onu Girne Acil Servis'te yatırken, kaburgaları kırılmış vaziyette bulduk: İşyerinde şiro ile kamyonun arasında kalmış, ezilmesine ramak kalmış, birkaç kaburga kırığıyla canı kurtulmuştu... Onları buluşturmak bir başka zamana kalmıştı...
Kaymaklılılar'ın çok iyi tanıdığı Ali Zeybekoğlu, bu ziyaret nedeniyle çok heyecanlıydı... Ledra Palace barikatından geçip bir taksi aldık, bizi Elli Hanım'ın Büyük Kaymaklı'daki evine götürmesini istedik... Bir zamanlar buradan tren yolu geçiyordu, rayları olduğu gibi koruma altına almışlardı. Bu bölgeye daha önce de bazı Kıbrıslıtürkler'in olası bir gömü yerini aramaya gelmiştim bir Kıbrıslırum şahitle ve Kayıplar Komitesi yetkilileriyle birlikte... Lefkoşa'yı ikiye bölen Yeşil Hat'ta çok yakındık...
Elli Hanım hakkında Ali Bey beni uyarmıştı:
"Gideceyik ama eli ayağı durmayacak... Durmadan birşeyler yeyip içmen için seni zorlayacak... Huyu böyledir, ne söylersan söyle, seni dinlemeyecek, illa ki yemen içmen için seni zorlayacak" demişti.
Gerçekten de öyle oldu – Elli Hanım, sütlü börekler, çeşitli tatlılar yapmıştı, masanın üstü açık büfe gibiydi! Mutfakta oturduk, bize kahve yaptı...
Ali Bey'in ilk sorduğu, doktoru oldu... Marios Kasianidis adlı Kıbrıslırum kalp doktoru, Ali Zeybekoğlu'nun hayatını kurtarmıştı kalbinden hastalandığında... O nedenle derhal doktorunu aramak, ona seslenmek istemişti... Ama Elli Hanım'ın eşi ona kötü haberi verdi: Ali Bey'in kalp doktoru bir kalp krizi geçirmişti... Ali Bey çok üzüldü ve ona "Geçmiş olsun" dileklerini iletmelerini istedi...
Elli Hanım, Küçük Kaymaklı'dan Kıbrıslıtürkler'in fotoğraflarını topluyordu... Ali Zeybekoğlu da ona tanıdığı, sevdiği, artık hayatta olmayan Kaymaklılılar'ın fotoğraflarını veriyordu. Elli Hanım'da Ahmet Işıman'ın ninesi Huriye Hanım'ın bugüne kadar hiç görmediğim fotoğrafları vardı... Ali Zeybekoğlu'nun annesi Küçük Kaymaklı'nın bevvap Emete Ablası'nın, Yoğurtçu Musa'nın, rahmetli Hüseyin Ruso'nun fotoğrafları vardı... Üsküdar Bar'dan fotoğraflar... Küçük Kaymaklı futbolcularının fotoğrafları... Bir Kıbrıslıtürk'le evlenen çok yakın bir akrabalarının evlatçıklarının fotoğrafları...
Barikatlar açıldıktan sonra, Elli Hanım Ali Zeybekoğlu'ndan kendisini Küçük Kaymaklı maçına götürmesini istemişti, Ali Bey de onu ve eşi Kosta'yı alarak maça götürmüştü... "Küçük Kaymaklı bizim köyümüzdür, köylülerimiz oynaycak" diyordu Elli Hanım... Bu maçta çekilmiş fotoğraflar vardı...
Bu ne sıcak bir dostluk, bunlar ne güzel insanlardı... Elli Hanım'ın 12 yaşındaki küçük kızkardeşi Yorgulla vurulup öldürülmüştü 1963'teki çarpışmalarda... Elli Hanım'ın sevgili annesi Hristalla ağır yaralanmıştı... O yine de bunları içinde kin yapıp büyütmüyor, olaylarla insanları birbirinden ayırabiliyor, bunun bir savaş olduğunu, savaşta her iki taraftan da öldürülenlerin, yaralananların, "kayıp" edilenlerin olduğunu, her iki tarafın da acı çektiğini biliyordu... Herkese bir insanlık dersi veriyordu... Bana Sonay Işıman'ı soruyordu, Adnan Işıman'ı soruyordu, Feridun Işıman'ı, Ferit'i soruyordu... Onların anneleri rahmetlik Fatma Hanım'dan, neneleri Huriye Hanım'dan, tüm aileden çok büyük bir sevgiyle sözediyordu...
Elli Hanım'ı yerine oturtup iki çift laf edebilmemiz kolay olmadı: Gerçekten de Ali Bey'in söylediği gibi yerinde duramıyordu, durmadan bizim için hazırladığı börekleri, tatlıları getirmek istiyordu. Koşup Kaymaklı fotoğraflarını getiriyor, bunları gösteriyordu... Sonra yerinden fırlayıp fırını yakıyor, bizim için pizza ısıtıyordu, "Yok, istemeyik" desek de kesinlikle bizi dinlemiyordu! En sonunda "Elli Hanım ben niçin geldim buraya? Oturup konuşamayacaksak aha şimdi gidecem" deyince istemeye istemeye yanıma oturdu ve hatıralarını anlattı bana...
Annesini de görmek istiyordum, annesi Latça'daydı... Ali Bey, Elli Hanım'ın annesinin çok iyi Türkçe konuştuğunu anlatıyordu... "Başka bir gün gideriz" diyordu Elli Hanım, bugün bizleri sadece kendisine ayırmak istiyordu...
Elli Venizelu'yla Küçük Kaymaklı'da yaşadıkları ve Kıbrıslıtürkler'le yakın dostluğuna ilişkin röportajımız şöyle:
SORU: Sevgili Elli Venizelu...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Babamın soyadıdır Venizelu, eşimin soyadı Hristu...
SORU: Kaç yaşındasınız?
ELLİ VENİZELU: 66 yaşındayım.
SORU: Küçük Kaymaklı'da dünyaya geldiniz...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Evet... Babamın adı Haralambus Venizelos, Hambis diye bilinir. Annemin adı Hristalla Venizelu. İki erkek kardeşim, bir kızkardeşim var şimdi... Daha önce iki kızkardeşim vardı... Beş kardeştik yani eskiden...
SORU: Babanızın mesleği neydi?
ELLİ VENİZELU: Babam tatlıcıydı... Uzunyol'a (Ledra Street) yakındı tatlıcı dükkanı...
SORU: Rahmetlik Huriye Hanımlar'ın komşusuydunuz...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Evet, Huriye, Altıparmaklar'ın Fatma, onların oğluları, Karabardak ve Keziban... Melek... Adnan, Feridun, Ferit, Ahmet, Sonay, Hülya... Bunlar Fatma'nın evlatçıklarıydı... Bir başka Hülya daha vardı, o da Ahmet Altıparmak'ın kızıydı... Bir de Kıymet vardı...
SORU: Ali Zeybekoğlu'nun bana anlattıklarından çok iyi ilişkileriniz vardı Altıparmaklar ve Işımanlar'la... Ve Kargalar'la...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Bizim Kıbrıslıtürkler'le ilişkilerimiz, Kıbrıslırumlar'la ilişkilerimizle aynıydı. Aramızda hiçbir fark yoktu. Her gün Huriye evimize gelirdi, Ahmet Altıparmak bize gelirdi, Huriye Hanım ebeydi, nenemizdi Huriye... Küçük Kaymaklı'nın kırıkçı-çıkıkçısıydı... Her gün bize gelir, anneme "Hristallu, napan?" derdi. Huriye gelir anneme yardım ederdi... Ben kuafördüm, Küçük Kaymaklılı Kıbrıslıtürk hanımlar hep bana gelirlerdi, saçlarını yapardım, saçlarını keserdim. Pek çok arkadaşım vardır, Melek vardır, Ruso'nun hanımı... Hasan Ruso'nun hanımıdır Melek, evlenecekleri zaman, gelin olacağında ben onardıydım başını... Nermin Hasan, Kargalar...
SORU: 1963 yılında kızkardeşiniz Vulla yani Yorgulla 11-12 yaşlarındaydı...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Pek çok insan bizim evde toplanmıştı... Çarpışmalar çıkmıştı diye insanlar gelip bizim evde, kimisi masanın altına girmişti, kimisi yatakların altına... Kendilerini korumaya almaya çalışıyordu. Mesela birisi küçük kardeşinin potinini bağlamak için eğilmiş ve vurulmuştu... Pencerelerden, kapılardan kurşun yağıyordu bizim eve, bizim eve ateş ediliyordu yani... Kızkardeşim Yorgulla evdeydi vurulduğunda... Normal diğer kurşunların yanısıra sanırım dumdum kurşunu da atılıyordu çünkü kapıda izlerini gördüydük daha sonra...
SORU: Ancak sanırım o tarihlerde Küçük Kaymaklılı Kıbrıslıtürkler'de dumdum kurşunu yoktu... Sanırım Kıbrıslırum askerlerde vardı dumdum kurşunu... Kıbrıslıtürkler'de daha çok av tüfekleri vardı... Benim öğrendiğim kadarıyla küçük kızkardeşiniz Yorgulla da avtüfeği taşıyan bir Kıbrıslıtürk tarafından vurulmuştu... Kızkardeşinizi vururken onu görenler vardır, görgü tanığı vardır yani... Kızkardeşiniz vurulduğunda hemen ölmüş müydü?
ELLİ VENİZELU: Kızkardeşim vurulduktan bir gün sonra ölmüştü. 24 Aralık 1963'te vurulmuştu kızkardeşim ve 25 Aralık 1963'te öldü.
Kızkardeşimi bir arabaya koyarak onu hastaneye göndermeye çalıştığımızda, bu defa da arabaya ateş açmışlardı. Kıbrıslıtürkler, polisin olduğu yerden ateş açılıyordu arabanın üstüne ve annem, kızkardeşimizi korumak için arabada, üstüne kapaklandı, kendi vücudunu siper etmeye çalıştı yaralı kızkardeşime... Tam 24 yerinden yaralandı annem, bütün sırtı kurşun doludur, arabanın içindeyken vuruldu annem bu şekilde. Kızkardeşimin üstüne kapaklandı, onu korumaya çalıştı arabanın içindeyken ve böylece kendisi de açılan ateş sonucu yaralandı. Arabanın şöförü aracı durdurup kaçmıştı... Başka birisi arabayı geri getirmeye çalıştı... Annemin vücudu saçma doludur yani... Sonra onları hastaneye götürmeyi başardılar...
Kızkardeşim vurulduğu zaman ağlamaya başlamıştı... "Anneee! Huriye neneyi çağır da o beni iyileştirir! Huriye nenemi isterim! Huriye nene gelsin!" diye ağlıyordu kızkardeşim...
Annem, kızının öldüğünü bilmiyordu... Annem de yaralı olduğu için hastanede yatıyordu. Doktorlar ona "Kızın başka bölümde tedavi görür" diyorlardı, ona kızının öldüğünü söylemiyorlardı. Annem sürekli "Kızım nerde? Kızımı görmek isterim... Kızım nasıl oldu?" diye soruyordu... Doktorlar ona kızının öldüğünü söyleme cesareti bulamıyorlardı, "Başka bir odada yatır kızın" diyorlardı kadına.
Ancak iki ay sonra Makarios söylemişti anneme kızı Yorgulla'nın öldüğünü... İki ay gizlediler annemden kızkardeşimin ölümünü...
Annemi tedavi için Doğu Almanya'ya gönderdiler daha sonra. Oradaki doktorlar, vücudunun 24 yerinde bulunan bu kurşunları çıkaramayacaklarını, bu kurşunları olduğu yerde bırakmanın daha iyi olacağını söylediler ve o günden bu yana annem vücudundaki bu saçmalarla yaşıyor... Şimdi Latça'da yaşıyor, bir gün götürürüm seni... Çok güzel Türkçe bilir...
ALİ ZEYBEKOĞLU: Ben gittim, gördüm kendini, sarıldı öptü... Senden, benden daha iyi Türkçe konuşur. "Vallahi özlediydim Türkçe konuşmayı" dedi bana... Kadının bu kadar çok acısı olmasına rağmen – kızı öldürüldü, kendi ağır yaralandı – tabii Kıbrıslıtürkler da öldürdü, Kıbrıslırumlar da öldürdü – hiçbir zaman kötü bir söz söylemedi Kıbrıslıtürkler için... Ben bu aileyi çok iyi bilirim, onlar da benim ailemi çok iyi bilir... Bizi kavga ettirenler Allah'ından bulsun... Günahtır annelerimiz, babalarımız ağlar... Ağlamasın artık annelerimiz babalarımız... Bir barış yapılsın... Çok hatalar yaptık, bitsin artık...
Benim ailemden da öldürdüler çok... Ama onunla yaşamayı öğrendim...
SORU: Küçük Kaymaklı'dan ne zaman kaçtıydınız?
ELLİ VENİZELU: 25 Aralık 1963'te kaçtık Küçük Kaymaklı'dan... Kızkardeşim öldürülmüştü, annem hastanedeydi, babam büyük bir ameliyat geçirmişti hastanede...
SORU: Ondan sonra tekrar ne zaman gördünüz Kıbrıslıtürk komşularınızı?
ELLİ VENİZELU: Sanırım 1963-64'ten üç-beş yıl yıl kadar sonra Ahmet Altıparmak bir evladını evlendirmişti... Altıparmak gelinle güveyiyi sınıra getirmişti görmemiz için, biz da gidip görmüştük evlendireceği evladını çünkü düğüne gidemiyorduk... Yeşil Hat üzerinde buluştuk...
SORU: Düğünlerine gidemediğiniz için hediye da yolladıydınız kendilerine diye anlatılırdı...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Biz o kadar yakındık ki bu aileyle, düşünün küçük kızkardeşim vurulduğunda acı içinde "Huriye neneye çağır, o beni iyileştirir" diye ağlıyordu, anneme sürekli "Huriye neneyi çağır!" diyordu... Çok iyi komşulardık biz... Her sabah Huriye Hanım anneme gelir, birlikte sabah kahvelerini içerlerdi... "Hristallu, bugün ne yapacayık? Ne pişireceyik?" derdi anneme Huriye Hanım...
SORU: Ali Zeybekoğlu'yla nasıl buluştunuz?
ALİ ZEYBEKOĞLU: Bir yeğenleri vardı, Kıbrıslıtürk, onlara sorduydum ben bu aileyi... Biz bu yeğeni aracılığıyla buluştuk... Dedim bu yeğenine "Benim bir çocukluk arkadaşım vardı Goçço... Babası Hristaki..." Bir meydanlığımız vardı meşhur, kadınlar su aldıklarında tek bir çeşme vardı orada ve tenekelerle kavga ederlerdi, eskiden evlerde su yoktu çünkü... Elli'nin eşi Kosta'nın (Goçço) annesi da parça bir kadındı, iri yarı bir kadındı... Maritsa'ydı adı... Bu yeğenleri buluşturdu bizi... Goçço'nun evine geldiğimde hiç yabancılık duymazdım... Goçço'nun teyzesinin kızı, bir Kıbrıslıtürk'le evlendiydi Küçük Kaymaklı'da... Evlatçıkları var... Ben burasını evim gibi hissederim, serbest da konuşurum. Sonra Kaymaklı maçına götürdüm kendilerini... Kaymaklı şampiyonluğa oynardı, istediler Elli'yle eşi Goçço, "Bizim da köyümüzdür, köylülerimiz oynaycak, bizi maça götürün?" dediler. Önce Kaymaklı Kulübü'ne götürdüm kendilerini, Ruso'nun fotoğraflarını gördüler, üzüldüler...
SORU: "Kayıp" Hüseyin Ruso'yu hatırlan herhalde Elli Hanım...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Babalarının fırını vardı Kaymaklı'da, ben hergün fırına gider, ekmek alırdım. Babalarının adı Ahmet Ruso'ydu, evimin yanındaydı zaten fırın. Solcuların kulübü vardı, Haralambos isimli bir Kıbrıslırum davet ettiydi kendilerini ve Hüseyin Ruso bu kulübe Kıbrıslırumlar'la birlikte yemeye içmeye gittiydi... Kaymaklı'da karışırlardı Kıbrıslırumlar, Kıbrıslıtürkler. Öyle solcu-sağcı yoktu... Fotoğrafı da var bende Hüseyin Ruso'nun, çok güzel bir insandı...
SORU: 1963 "kaybı" Goççino'yu da hatırlan herhalde...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Tabii hatırlarım... Çok iyi bir insandı... Dostlarımızdı Goççinolar... Eşini da hatırlarım, evlatçıklarını da... Bir gün oğlu geldiydi bize Goççino'nun...
SORU: Galadari'yi de hatırlan herhalde...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Evet, çok şey hatırlarım... Şunu da hatırlarım: Haftada bir gün Rusolar'ın fırını ekmek çıkarmazdı, Pazar günleri ve o gün herkes fırın kebabı hazırlardı tepsiyle ve fırına götürürdü, pişirilsin diye... Et ve patatesle ohto hazırlardı herkes ve tepsiyi Ruso'ya götürürdü, pişirsin diye... Hem Kıbrıslıtürkler, hem Kıbrıslırumlar, Ruso'nun fırınına tepsi götürürdü Pazarları, fırın kebabı yapılsın diye.
ANDREAS STAVRU KİRİAKİDİS: Ben da Küçük Kaymalılı'yım, Elli'nin kızkardeşiyle evliyim, onun eniştesiyim. Benim babam mozaikçiydi... Çağlayan'ın yakınlarındaydı dükkanı...
SORU: Küçük Kaymaklı'dan alınıp da "kayıp" edilen Kıbrıslıtürkler'le ilgili herhangi bir dedikodu duymuş muydunuz o zaman?
ELLİ VENİZELU: Duymadık çünkü böylesi kötü şeyler yapanlar konuşmaz ki duyasın...
SORU: Bir şey daha duydum ben, 1958'deydi sanırım, bir Kıbrıslırum'u kaçırmış Küçük Kaymaklılı bazı Kıbrıslıtürkler, onu öldürmüşler, sonra da fırının birinde yakmışlar...
ANDREAS STAVRU KİRİAKİDİS: Stelyos Andreu'ydu bu adamın adı... Mozaikçiydi bu adam da, işini bitirmişti o gün ve karısına "Kamil'in dükkanına gideceğim, bir şişe şarap içmeye" demişti. Kamil, kahveciydi...
Sonra Stelyos Andreu o akşam "kayıp" edildi. Aradan birkaç yıl geçtikten sonra Küçük Kaymaklılı bazı Kıbrıslıtürk arkadaşlarımız bize Stelyos'un öldürülüp gaminilerde yakıldığını anlattılar. Yani doğruydu duyduğunuz... Alçı ve tuğla yapılan gaminiler vardı...
KOSTAS GOÇÇOS HRİSTAKİ: Stelyos'un eşi benim annemin yeğeniydi. Stelyos o gece bizim evden geçerek "Maritsa ben Kamil'e içmeye gidiyorum" demişti.
SORU: Stelyos'u kim kaçırıp "kayıp" etmişti?
ANDREAS STAVRU KİRİAKİDİS: Bilmiyoruz... Kamil'in kahvesine gidiyor, ondan sonra "kayıp" ediliyor...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Bir Kıbrıslıtürk arkadaşımız, Stelyos'un karısına gizli gizli "Boşuna beklemeyesin kocanı çünkü öldürdüler onu..." demişti.
O zaman karısı da "Lütfen, cesedini olsun bulayım" demişti...
O zaman bu Kıbrıslıtürk arkadaşımız "Olmaz" demişti, "çünkü yaktılar kendini gaminide..."
SORU: Yani aslında fırında değil gaminide yaktılardı adamı...
ELLİ VENİZELU: Evet, tuğla gaminisinde yakmışlar...
SORU: Ali Bey siz hiç duymamış mıydınız gaminide yakılan bu Kıbrıslırum'un hikayesini?
ALİ ZEYBEKOĞLU: Yok ama Tabana vardı, kasaphane gibi birşeydi. Orada bir kocakarıyla bir yaşlı adam vardı. Bunlar Kıbrıslırum'du, bazı Kıbrıslıtürkler'in onları öldürdüklerini duyduydum. 1957-58, karı-kocaydı bunlar, yaşlı... Kaymaklı'nın biraz dışında... Şimdi Tenten fabrikası var ya onun tam yanındaydı, bahçanın içindeydi, biz Tabana derdik o bölgeye, hayvan keserlerdi onun içinde... Öldürdüler bu yaşlı çifti. Onları bilirdim...
Ben başka bir adamı vururlarken gördüm, annem da bilirdi kendilerini. Mihaili'ydi adamın adı... Ben onu vururlarken gördüm... Bisikletiyle geçerken belki da elli tane mermi attılar kendine... 1963'te, ilk gün... Hüseyin Karga'nın evinin yanında düştü da öldü...
KOSTAS GOÇÇOS HRİSTAKİ: Andreas Mihail'dir bu adamın adı. Kardeşi cesedini görmüş ve tanıyamamıştı, ancak üç gün sonra alıp gömdülerdi kendini...
1958'de öldürülen Kaymaklılı bir Kıbrıslırum daha vardır, Arestis Luka... 1 Ağustos 1958'de kahvede oturuyordu bu adam, bir arabayla geldi bazı Kıbrıslıtürkler ve kahvehaneye ateş açtılar, bu adam da kahvehanede vurularak öldürüldü.
1963'te öldürülen bir diğer şahıs Haralambus Spiru idi... Regis'in yanında öldürülmüştü 25 Aralık 1963'te.
Bir yeğenim vardı, evlerinin arka duvarı bir Kıbrıslıtürk komşularının evine bakıyordu. 23 Aralık 1963'te bir ses duymuş, pijamalarıyla dışarıya çıkmıştı, duvarın arkasına saklanan bazı Kıbrıslıtürkler, onu başından tabancayla vurdular. Bu yeğenimin adı Yorgios Psara idi, henüz 15 yaşında bir çocuktu...
SORU: Her iki taraf da çok kötü şeyler yaptı fakat her bir taraf yalnız kendi acılarını anlatmayı yeğler, kendi yaptıklarını değil. Ben ilk defa duyarım Kaymaklılı bu Kıbrıslırumlar'ın başına gelenleri... Bir de darbede öldürülen Kaymaklılı vardı...
KOSTAS GOÇÇOS HRİSTAKİ: Evet, Kiriakos Varnava 15 Temmuz 1974 darbesinde bazı Kıbrıslırumlar tarafından öldürülmüştü...
SORU: Tüm bu bilgileri paylaştığınız için hem size, hem de Ali Bey'e çok teşekkür ederim... Böylece Kıbrıslıtürkler de Kaymaklı'da yaşananlarla ilgili üzerinde hiç konuşulmayan bu korkunç olayları da öğrenecekler...
ALİ ZEYBEKOĞLU: Benim söylemek istediğim, bu güzel ada hepimize yeter da, artar da... Yeter ki artık, onların da ölüleri vardır, bizim da ölülerimiz vardır, biz bu ölülerle yaşamayalım ama unutmayalım da ve bir kere daha kavga etmeyelim... Şimdi benim istediğim bundan sonra çok güzel bir yaşantıdır, biz yaşayamadık, çocuklarımız güzel yaşasın. Biz yapamadık bunu, beceremedik... Bundan sonra çocuklarımız, ister Kıbrıslırum, ister Kıbrıslıtürk olsun, anneleri ağlamasın... Bizim kuşakların yapmış olduğu hataları genç kuşaklar yapmasın. O onu öldürdüydü, bu bunu öldürdüydü, terazi yoktur elimizde tartalım, Kıbrıslırumlar mı daha çok hata yaptı, Kıbrıslıtürkler mi diye... Bir sünger çekeceyik onların üzerine, biz artık sonbaharımızı yaşarık ama bundan sonra çocuklarımız, torunlarımız bu güzel adada iyi yaşasın. Güzel bir adadır, güneşimiz var, denizimiz var, herşeyimiz var. Bu ada Kıbrıslıtürkler'i da sığar, Kıbrıslırumlar'ı da sığar. İster Kıbrıslıtürk, ister Kıbrıslırum olsun, insanlar birbirlerine saygılı olmalıdırlar, haklarına saygı gösterirlersa birbirlerinin yapamayacağımız şey yoktur ve çok güzel şeyler bekler bizi. İstediğim odur, Bu insanları çok seviyorum, bu eve geldiğimde sanki kendi evime gelmiş gibiyim. Ben öyle hissederim yani. Ben Goçços'u gördüğümde, çocukluğum gelir aklıma. Düşünebilir min Sevgül Hanım, geçirttiğimiz o günler kazındı kafamın içine... Oynardık beraber, pirili oynardık, Goçços'un döndüreği vardı çok güzel, koyardı ve döndürürdü bu topaçı. Ben bazan kıskanırdım Goçços'un topacını, çok güzeldi... Topaçına oynadığımızda ben tam üstüne vururdum topaçının ki kırılsın! Ama pirilide da bu yenerdi bizi...
Annesi Maritsa, babası da boyacıydı... Orada çocuklarıyla, Goçços'un kardeşleriynan gardaş gibi geçinirdik. Meşhur "Guyu Meydanı"mız vardı bizim, onun hemen yanında kalırdı Maritsa... Birbirlerimize analarımız yemek kordu, götürürdük, biz onlara yemek korduk, onlar bize yemek kordu... Kapılarımız, pencerelerimiz açıktı, yatıp uyuduğumuzda kapıyı kapatmazdık, hem da yolun kenarından geçerdi arabalar ama bakmazlardı bile. Öyle günler geçirttik. Sinemalara bile beraber giderdik... Lohoriyocu Salih Dayı vardı rahmetlik, nur içinde yatsın, toplardı bizi, Rum-Türk beraber, binerdik arabasına giderdik. Kristal Sineması'na da giderdik, Tumarhana Tepesi'nde da vardı sinema, ona da giderdik...
Benim unutamayacağım bir şey daha vardır, ben iki tane by-pass ameliyatı geçirttim Rum tarafında, çok çok memnunum... Öldü diye benim mezarımı kazdılar, mezarımı hazırladılar bana. Ama benim bir doktorum vardır, Marios Kasianidis, şimdi duydum hasta olduğunu, ona ben geçmiş olsun derim. Ben bugün hayatta kalbim atıyorsa, nefes alabiliyorsam, ben o adama borçluyum. En fazla duygulandığım iki konu var...
İkinci ameliyatımı Apollonia'da yaptım, bu adam sebep oldu da yolladı beni. Aksi takdirde ölecektim. On gün kaldım ben birinci ameliyatımda, kalkamadım, Gavcanis yaptıydı bana ameliyatı. Üçüncü-dördüncü gün mamurladığımda bu adama açtım, saat 12.00-1.00 evi da uzak ve beni muayene ederken gördü, hünkür hünkür ağladım. Adamın neme lazım gelecek Apollonia'ya, yabancı bir hastaneye ve bir Ali Zeybekoğlu'nu muayene edecek, işte öyle bir duygulandım ki... O kadar sevdim ben bu adamı, vermiş olduğu o Hipokrat Yemini'nin tamamen hakkını verdi. Ben yedi senedir bu adama giderim iki ayda bir... Ne Rum, ne da Türk ayırımı yapar bana. Ayırım yapmaz, saati, günü geldiğinde bana da bakar, hiç torpil morpil yok. Dolayısıyla ben bu adamdan çok memnunum, ailesinden çok memnunum.
Bir gün bana Goçços'un hasta olduğuna dair telefon açar bana Elli, "Goçço hastadır, bak yardımcı ol kendine da Marios Kasianidis senin doktorun, alasın kendine bir randevu" dedi bana. Benim tuhafıma gitti bu! Aradım doktorumu, çat pat Tarzanca böyle, dedi bana "Ağlayım mı, güleyim mi? Bir Rum senden yardım ister, ben bakayım kendine?!"
"Ha!" derim.
"Tamam, söyle gelsin da bakayım kendine..."
Yani bunlar işte... Biz istersak güzel şeyleri yaratabilirik... Ama kötülükler... Terazi yoktur ölçelim "Rumlar çok yaptı, Türkler az yaptı" diye... Yoktur öyle bir şey... Öldürmeyelim birbirimizi artık... Anneler babalar ağlamasın... Benim ailemden da vardır "kayıp", hala daha mezarını bulamayıyoruk... Goççino, Münür Yusuf eniştem... Çok vardır ama bu akıtılan gözyaşları, akmasın artık. Ama Rum olsun, ama Türk olsun, akmasın artık bu gözyaşları... Benim istediğim odur. Doktoruma da, Marios Kasianidis'e da çok çok geçmiş olsun derim, inşallah tez günde iyi olur... Çok üzüldüm duyunca hasta olduğunu, sanki kalbimin yarısı durmuş gibi oldu... Konuştum biraz evvel telefonda kendisiyle, ben ona Allah'tan uzun ömürler dilerim, çok çok severim kendisini...
Ben bunları söylerken, Türk tarafı da şöyledir böyledir demiyorum. O zaman yoktu, şimdi bizimkiler da bu ameliyatları başladılar yapsınlar. Çok iyi bir duruma geldi onlar da.
İsterim artık Rumlar'la Türkler asırlar boyu kavga ederler, kavga etmesinler da birbirlerinin haklarına sahip çıksınlar. Çok teşekkür ederim...
(YENİDÜZEN – Kıbrıs: Anlatılmamış Öyküler – Sevgül Uludağ – Haziran 2012)
Ιστορίες από την Ομορφίτα…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Τηλ: 99 966518
Ήταν ο Ali Zeybekoghlu που μου είχε πει για πρώτη φορά την ιστορία ενός μικρού Ελληνοκύπριου κοριτσιού που ήταν 11-12 χρονών και είχε σκοτωθεί στην Ομορφίτα (Kuchuk Kaymakli) τον Δεκέμβριο του 1963… Ήθελε να με πάρει στην οικογένεια της…
«Είναι τόσο υπέροχοι άνθρωποι, πραγματικά πρέπει να τους γνωρίσεις… Παρόλο που το κορίτσι είχε σκοτωθεί από κάποιους Τουρκοκύπριους, η αδελφή της Έλλη, ο σύζυγος της Κώτσιος και η μητέρα της Χρυστάλλα δεν έχουν μίσος την καρδιά τους… Είναι πολύ καλοί μας φίλοι…»
Φυσικά θα πηγαίναμε αλλά πάντα κάτι προέκυπτε: Άσε με να πάω να δείξω αυτό τον τόπο ταφής και εκείνο τον τόπο ταφής, άσε με να τελειώσω αυτή τη συνέντευξη και εκείνη την συνάντηση… Πέρασαν τρία χρόνια μέχρι τη μέρα που ο Ahmet Hasan θα μου έλεγε για το μικρό κορίτσι που είχε σκοτωθεί στην Ομορφίτα… Ο θείος του ήταν στενός φίλος με τον Χαμπή και ήταν καλοί γείτονες… Όταν έγραψα την ιστορία αυτή, μια μέρα μου τηλεφώνησε η Έλλη, η αδελφή του μικρού κοριτσιού… Η Έλλη Βενιζέλου, η κόρη του Χαμπή του ζαχαροπλάστη, θυμόταν όλους τους Τουρκοκύπριους γείτονες και φίλους της με τρυφερές αναμνήσεις… Πάμε μαζί με τον Ali Zeybekoghlu για να την επισκεφτούμε στο σπίτι της στην Ομορφίτα, κοντά στη διαχωριστική γραμμή… Τρία χρόνια μετά που μου είχε πει για αυτήν ο Ali, καταφέρνουμε να πάμε να την δούμε…
Η Έλλη Βενιζέλου που ήταν κομμώτρια στους καλούς καιρούς της Ομορφίτας, είχε πολλές Τουρκοκύπριες πελάτισσες:
«Οι νεαρές κοπέλες έρχονταν σε μένα… Είχα φτιάξει τα μαλλιά της γυναίκας του Hasan Ruso για το γάμο της, το όνομα της είναι Melek…»
Ο Hasan Ruso, όπως και ο Huseyin Ruso, σκοτώθηκαν από κάποιους Ελληνοκύπριους στην Ομορφίτα και ο Huseyin Ruso είναι ακόμα «αγνοούμενος»… Η Έλλη έχει τις φωτογραφίες του, ένα άλμπουμ σχεδόν γεμάτο με φωτογραφίες των Τουρκοκυπρίων του Καϊμακλί (Ομορφίτα) που ήξερε…
«Ήξερα τον πατέρα, Ahmet Ruso, που είχε φούρνο στο Καϊμακλί… Πήγαινα κάθε μέρα στο φούρνο του και αγόραζα ψωμί από εκεί, ήταν δίπλα από το σπίτι μου. Μια φορά τη βδομάδα, τις Κυριακές, δεν έφτιαχναν ψωμί ώστε όλοι να ετοιμάσουν κρέας και πατάτες και να το πάρουν στο φούρνο του Ruso για να το ψήσουν στους φούρνους του… Και οι Ελληνοκύπριοι και οι Τουρκοκύπριοι έπαιρναν ταψιά με το φαγητό τους στο Ruso για να τους τα ψήσει…»
Ο Ali ήταν παιδικός φίλος με τον Κώστα Κώτσιο Χριστάκη… Έπαιζαν ππιριλιά – ο Κώστας είχε ένα συγκεκριμένο που το ζήλευε ο Ali.
«Η μητέρα του Κώστα ήταν η Μαρίτσα… Όταν ήμουν παιδί πάντα ένιωθα άνετα στο σπίτι του Κώστα, σαν στο σπίτι μου. Πηγαίναμε και ερχόμασταν σαν να ήταν το σπίτι μας…»
Η Χρυστάλλα, η μητέρα της Έλλης, ήταν στενή φίλη και γειτόνισσα με την Huriye, τη μαμμού του Καϊμακλιού. Η Huriye θεράπευε επίσης εκείνους που είχαν εξαρθρώσει τους ώμους ή τους αστραγάλους τους και επίσης φρόντιζε και σπασμένα κόκκαλα…
«Η Huriye ερχόταν κάθε πρωί στη μητέρα μου και έπιναν καφέ. Δεν υπήρχε διαφορά μεταξύ μας. Θυμούμαι την κόρη της Huriye, την Fatma και τα παιδιά της Adnan, Feridun, Ferit, Ahmet, Sonay, Hulya... Θυμούμαι τον Ahmet Altiparmak που ήταν στενός φίλος με τον πατέρα μου…»
Στο τέλος του Δεκεμβρίου όταν ξεκίνησαν οι συγκρούσεις στο Καϊμακλί, πολλοί άνθρωποι είχαν μαζευτεί στο σπίτι του πατέρα της, του Χαμπή… Η Έλλη το θυμάται καλά:
«Κάποιοι είχαν κρυφτεί κάτω από τα κρεβάτια, κάποιοι κάτω από τα τραπέζια… Όλοι προσπαθούσαν να προστατεύσουν τους εαυτούς τους… Κάποιοι Τουρκοκύπριοι πυροβολούσαν το σπίτι μας και οι σφαίρες έρχονταν από τις πόρτες και τα παράθυρα… Τότε πυροβολήθηκε η μικρή μου αδελφή Γιωργούλλα… Ήταν η 24η Δεκεμβρίου 1963. Μετά μαζί με την μητέρα μου τη βάλαμε σε ένα αυτοκίνητο και κάποιος τους πήρε στο νοσοκομείο. Όμως όταν ξεκίνησε το αυτοκίνητο, οι Τουρκοκύπριοι άρχισαν να πυροβολούν και ο οδηγός έφυγε από το αυτοκίνητο, η μητέρα μου έσκυψε να προστατεύσει τη μικρή Γιωργούλα μέσα στο αυτοκίνητο και την πυροβόλησαν σε 24 σημεία – η πλάτη της ήταν γεμάτη σφαίρες… Τότε κάποιος άλλος προσπάθησε να τους πάρει στο νοσοκομείο…
Όταν πυροβολήθηκε η αδελφή μου, άρχισε να κλαίει και να λέει στη μητέρα μου «Τηλεφώνα στην Huriye! Μάμμα σε παρακαλώ τηλεφώνησε στην Huriye! Θα με θεραπεύσει και θα με κάνει καλά! Σε παρακαλώ μάμμα, τηλεφώνα την Huriye!...»
Η αδελφή μου πέθανε μια μέρα μετά που την πυροβόλησαν, αλλά εφόσον και η μητέρα μου ήταν βαριά τραυματισμένη δεν της είπαν για δύο μήνες ότι είχε πεθάνει η κόρη της. Η μητέρα μου συνεχώς ρωτούσε για αυτή και οι γιατροί της έλεγαν: «Είναι σε άλλο δωμάτιο…». Δύο μήνες αργότερα, ο Μακάριος είπε στη μητέρα μου ότι η κόρη της είχε πεθάνει. Έστειλαν τη μητέρα μου στην Ανατολική Γερμανία για θεραπεία και οι γιατροί εκεί είπαν ότι ήταν καλύτερα να αφήσουν τις σφαίρες εκεί που ήταν και να μην τις αφαιρέσουν… Από εκείνο τον καιρό, ζει με τις σφαίρες στο σώμα της…»
Μιλούμε για τους Ελληνοκύπριους της Ομορφίτας που σκοτώθηκαν από κάποιους Τουρκοκύπριους… Ο Στέλιος Ανδρέου είναι «αγνοούμενος» από το 1958 – είχε πάει στο καφενείο του Kamil και «εξαφανίστηκε» από εκεί. Προφανώς τον πήραν από εκεί, τον σκότωσαν και τον έθαψαν σε ένα καμίνι… Η γυναίκα του ποτέ δεν πήρε πίσω τα οστά του… Ο Ali θυμάται ότι στην Ομορφίτα υπήρχε ένα μέρος που ονομαζόταν «Tabana» και εκεί έσφαζαν ζώα και το 1957-58 κάποιοι Τουρκοκύπριοι σκότωσαν ένα ηλικιωμένο ζευγάρι, μια ηλικιωμένη γυναίκα και ένα ηλικιωμένο άνδρα… Ήταν επίσης μάρτυρας στη δολοφονία του Ανδρέα Μιχαήλ το 1963… Ενώ ο Ανδρέας Μιχαήλ οδηγούσε το ποδήλατο του, κάποιοι Τουρκοκύπριοι τον πυροβόλησαν… «Τον πυροβόλησαν ίσως με 50 σφαίρες… Έπεσε από το ποδήλατο του και πέθανε…» Ο αδελφός του δεν μπορούσε να αναγνωρίσει το σώμα του… Ήταν μετά από τρεις μέρες που τον πήραν για να τον θάψουν… Υπήρχε και ο Αρέστης Λουκά που καθόταν στο καφενείο το 1958 όταν ένα αυτοκίνητο γεμάτο με Τουρκοκύπριους από την ΤΜΤ ήρθαν και πυροβόλησαν το καφενείο και πέθανε… Το 1963 ο Χαράλαμπος Σπύρου σκοτώθηκε κοντά στο Regis... Και ακόμα ένας, ένα νεαρό αγόρι 15 χρονών, που είχε βγει έξω στον κήπο του με τις πυτζάμες του στις 23 Δεκεμβρίου 1963 και τον πυροβόλησαν στο κεφάλι – το νεαρό αγόρι πέθανε… Και τόσοι Τουρκοκύπριοι που σκοτώθηκαν και έγιναν «αγνοούμενοι» από την Ομορφίτα… Κάποιους τους πήραν από το σπίτι τους ορισμένες ομάδες του Σαμψών και μετά «εξαφανίστηκαν», κάποιοι είχαν πάει πίσω στην Ομορφίτα για να πάρουν παπλώματα και κρεβάτια και ορισμένα ρούχα διότι έπρεπε να διαφύγουν στις Hamit Mandrez και «εξαφανίστηκαν»… Ψάχνουμε ακόμα και εκείνους τους Τουρκοκύπριους που έγιναν «αγνοούμενοι» από την Ομορφίτα το 1963… Τι ντροπή και για τις δύο πλευρές να έχουν την υπογραφή τους του θανάτου σε αυτές τις τρομερές δολοφονίες…
Όταν άνοιξαν τα οδοφράγματα το 2003, ο Ali Zeybekoghlu προσπάθησε να βρει τον παιδικό του φίλο Κώτσιο. Συναντήθηκαν και από τότε βρίσκονται τακτικά. Ο Ali τους πήρε επίσης στον ποδοσφαιρικό αγώνα πρωταθλήματος του Kuchuk Kaymakli πριν από δύο χρόνια και υπάρχουν φωτογραφίες από εκείνες τις μέρες…
Ο Ali έχει δύο «αγνοούμενους» στη στενή του οικογένεια που «εξαφανίστηκαν» το Δεκέμβριο του 1963 από την Ομορφίτα και λέει «Αυτή η οικογένεια είναι τόσο ξεχωριστή… Φαντάσου την Χρυσταλλού, τη μητέρα της Έλλης, που είχε χάσει την κόρη της στις συγκρούσεις και είχε τραυματιστεί και η ίδια… Πήγα να την επισκεφτώ και μιλήσαμε στα τούρκικα… Μιλά πολύ καλά τουρκικά. Μου είπε «Πεθύμησα να μιλήσω τουρκικά»… Και οι Ελληνοκύπριοι και οι Τουρκοκύπριοι έχουν σκοτώσει αλλά παρόλο τον πόνο της, η Χρυσταλλού ποτέ δεν είπε κακά λόγια για τους Τουρκοκύπριους… Οι οικογένειες μας γνωρίζονται πολύ καλά… Δεν θέλω να κλαίνε οι μητέρες και οι πατέρες μας, όλοι κάνουμε λάθη, ας έχουμε ειρήνη και να μην πολεμούμε… Σκότωσαν άτομα και από την οικογένεια μου αλλά έμαθα να ζω με αυτό… Δεν υπάρχουν ζυγαριές να ζυγίσουμε αν οι Τουρκοκύπριοι ή οι Ελληνοκύπριοι έκαναν περισσότερα κακά πράγματα, δεν υπάρχουν τέτοιες ζυγαριές… Είτε είναι Τουρκοκύπριες, είτε Ελληνοκύπριες μητέρες, δεν πρέπει να έχουν λόγο για να κλαίνε…
Στο Καϊμακλί ήμασταν σαν αδέλφια με τον Κώτσιο, οι μητέρες μας έστελλαν το φαγητό που είχαν μαγειρέψει εκείνη τη μέρα η μια στην άλλη… Συνηθίζαμε να κοιμόμαστε το βράδυ με τις πόρτες και τα παράθυρα μας ανοικτά… Ήταν τέτοιες μέρες… Πηγαίναμε στο σινεμά μαζί, ήταν ο Salih Dayi με το λεωφορείο που μας έβαζε όλους μέσα και πηγαίναμε στο σινεμά Crystal ή σε άλλα σινεμά μαζί, Τουρκοκύπριοι και Ελληνοκύπριοι…
Έχω ένα γιατρό, καρδιολόγο, που μου έσωσε τη ζωή… Ήμουν τόσο άρρωστος που έσκαψαν τάφο για μένα, περιμένοντας ότι θα πέθαινα… Όμως ο Δρ. Μάριος Κασσιανίδης μου έσωσε τη ζωή… Αν ζω σήμερα και κτυπά η καρδία μου, το χρωστώ σε αυτόν. Με φρόντισε τόσο καλά και έδωσε την πραγματική έννοια στον όρκο του Ιπποκράτη, χωρίς διακρίσεις… Με φροντίζει τα τελευταία επτά χρόνια… Έμαθα σήμερα ότι έπαθε καρδιακό επεισόδιο και ένιωσα σαν να σταμάτησε η καρδία μου. Του τηλεφώνησα μόλις τώρα και μίλησα μαζί του, του ευχήθηκα καλή ανάρρωση σύντομα… Μια μέρα η Έλλη μου τηλεφώνησε για να μου πει ότι ο Κώτσιος είναι άρρωστος και να τον βοηθήσω να κάνει ραντεβού με τον Δρ. Μάριο Κασσιανίδη. Τηλεφώνησα στον Δρ. Μάριο και του εξήγησα και μου είπε «Δεν ξέρω αν πρέπει να γελάσω ή να κλάψω , ένας Ελληνοκύπριος ζητά από σένα βοήθεια για να πάρεις ραντεβού;!» «Ναι!» του είπα και βοήθησε τον Κώτσιο… Θέλω να τον ευχαριστήσω και να εκφράσω την ευγνωμοσύνη μου σε αυτόν – του χρωστώ τη ζωή μου, έχω κάνει δύο επεμβάσεις ανοικτής καρδίας και με φρόντισε πολύ καλά…
Η Κύπρος είναι ένα τόσο όμορφο νησί, μπορεί να χωρέσει και τους Ελληνοκύπριους και τους Τουρκοκύπριους, είναι αρκετά μεγάλη για όλους… Ας μην τσακωνόμαστε, ας μην πολεμούμε πλέον… Ας έχουμε λίγη ειρήνη στο νησί αυτό, ώστε οι μητέρες μας να μην κλαίνε πια…»
(*) Published in the POLITIS newspaper on the 15th of July 2012.
Photos: Little Yorgoulla…
Kotsios, Eleni and Ali…
Sunday, January 10, 2021
FROM OUR ARCHIVES: Memories of a child from Omorphita... (In English, Turkish and Greek)...
FROM OUR ARCHIVES: Memories of a child from Omorphita... (In English, Turkish and Greek)...
Memories of a child from Omorphita... (*)
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Tel: 99 966518
We sit in my garden, next to the pond with the turtles, enjoying a quiet afternoon on a Sunday... Our dear friend Ahmet Hasan, starts telling me the bitter and sweet stories from his childhood... I have known him for at least 30 years and he had never spoken about his childhood. Perhaps it's the quietness of the neighbourhood, broken only with the clutter of the wings of doves that has encouraged him to speak... Whatever the reason, he has decided to speak... Ahmet tells me his story:
`I was only five and a half years old in December 1963 and we had to leave our house because there was fighting... They would pass us through some holes in some walls of houses and in the end, we would end up at a street which had a dead end... Quickly, they would find a ladder and pass us over the wall in order to reach and gather in the house of the Mukhtar of Kuchuk Kaymakli (Omorphita)… Around 700 Turkish Cypriots would gather in the house of Mukhtar Yusuf…
Then would come some Greek Cypriots with guns… We would be sitting on the steps and we would hear that they were going to search us… As children, we would raise our hands, thinking this was just a game! That they were going to search our bodies to see if we had anything hidden! As the Greek Cypriots would do the body searches, I remember some other Greek Cypriots with guns, hitting the doors of houses with their boots, breaking in and searching…
Then they put us in a row and I remember a Turkish Cypriot fireman in uniform, Osman Hudaverdi, trying to put us in a line…
My mother had my two small sisters with her and my father had me and my elder brothers with him… They would make us walk... We would travel first to the Regis Ice Cream Factory… The floor would be all wet, that I remember quite well…
It was at the Regis Ice Cream Factory that hell would break loose! Women would be shouting and crying since they had started choosing and taking their husbands away… I remember an arch near the factory where they had taken four or five Turkish Cypriot men… I shall never forget the look in their eyes… All those they took away from the Regis Ice Cream Factory are still `missing persons` today… The Turkish Cypriot fireman too, has been `missing` since that day…
Then they would bring trucks and buses. I would be put on a truck… They would take us to a school building called `Kykkos Gymnasium` and while my mother had my younger sisters with her, I would stay with my father and my elder brothers… We would get very bad treatment while at this school…
I still remember the room we were put in, on the second floor… I would have to go to toilet and my father would want to take me – the toilet was just 5-6 meters away but the Greek Cypriots with guns would not allow him to take me to toilet. So I would soil myself, not being able to hold it anymore and afterwards, I remember my father trying to clean me up…
We would be given very little food – just a very thin slice of bread with a few olives, no milk, no nothing…
We would see the bulldozers outside working, opening ditches and the Turkish Cypriots in the Kykkos Gymnasium would realize that these ditches were being dug for them, that they would be killed and buried in those ditches… I remember seeing Greek Cypriots with guns, watching us, among them a Greek Cypriot priest with a beard and a gun!
Things would change dramatically after some days – as I would grow up, I would discover the reason: That there had been one Turkish Cypriot, a woman I think, who had been set free from the 700 Turkish Cypriot prisoners… I think the number of prisoners was more than 700 but I heard different figures – let's say hundreds of prisoners and only one Turkish Cypriot woman had been set free… This woman was either working for the Red Cross or was married to someone who had been working at the Red Cross… She would go and notify the presence of the Turkish Cypriot prisoners and the place they were being kept. A day after her release, we would hear Turkish jets coming and diving above the Kykkos Gymnasium – a sign that they had been notified about our whereabouts…
Next day the atmosphere at the Kykkos Gymnasium would completely change: The Greek Cypriots with guns would be gone, being replaced by Greek soldiers in uniform – probably soldiers of ELDIK – and for the first time we would get milk… Powdered milk but still, milk… Food would be more edible and we would be allowed to go in the yard of the school to play… Then would come British soldiers to take us back but the Turkish Cypriot women would revolt and would not want to go because only women and children would be evacuated from the school. The women would refuse to leave, unless they would leave with their husbands… They would resist and in the end, the whole group of 700 something Turkish Cypriots would be evacuated from where they were being held as prisoners.
I read somewhere that a Greek Cypriot woman, close to Makarios had called him and told him the plans to execute the Turkish Cypriots taken as prisoners from Kaymakli and that he had sent ELDIK immediately in order to prevent this. I don't think that this reflects the truth – the truth is what I have told you – the difference was made by this woman who had been released due to her connection to the Red Cross. And only after the Turkish planes flew over the Kykkos Gymnasium, ELDIK would come… For the record, you should write this in order to correct and reflect what actually happened…
We would be taken to the Turkish sector of Nicosia and we would start living at the Tekke Bahchesi area and very soon after, my father would be called to go to Agios Vassilios (Ayvasil – Turkeli) in order to help open a mass grave where more than 21 Turkish Cypriots had been buried. He would work in the actual opening of the mass grave and would see the little Ayshe, not more than 10 years old, with hands tied and with bullet holes… This little girl had been one of our relatives and I remember my father coming home with a deep sadness and telling my mother about finding Ayshe in the mass grave, among other Turkish Cypriots who had been killed and buried there… After exactly 40 days, my father would become `diabetic` - sure his body must have had a tendency to become diabetic but after such a big trauma and such big sadness, he would get it… We would spend some time at the Tekke Bahchesi area and then we would be sent to the Ataturk Primary School where we would live for two or three years as refugees… Later on, we would go to my uncle's house and then try to pull ourselves together…
I remember another sad story from my childhood, the daughter of Hambis being killed with a stray bullet… Hambis was our neighbor like Elenou and Christallou and Fodu… The daughter of Hambis was about six years old; we would play in the street… Hambis had a confectionary at the Ledra Street and my uncle Ahmet would travel to Istanbul and come back, having learnt how to make baklava. I remember Hambis and my uncle, together trying to make baklava, learning together, trying out many times until they would get it right… The daughter of Hambis would wear a Scotch skirt with a safety pin on the side, a very big safety pin because in those times that would be the fashion… I remember playing with her in the street and later on we would hear that she had been shot and killed during those days of fighting… I would feel sad for losing her like that and years later, my brothers would go and visit the family of Hambis, sharing their memories of neighborhood… I heard that Mr. Hambis has passed away… There would be only one Greek Cypriot neighbor who did not like Turkish Cypriots so we would not mix with her but our friendship with our other neighbors would be fine…`
Ahmet has spent all his life for creating a just, peaceful island, for equality and freedom… He has not allowed the bitter memories of his childhood to hinder his stand – after all, acknowledging what has happened, knowing what has happened, does not hinder us from working for a peaceful island… On the contrary if we do not acknowledge and refuse to know what has happened, we might never be able to find the right path that would lead us towards peace on this island…
24.10.2011
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 13th of November 2011, Sunday.
Kıbrıs: Anlatılmamış Öyküler…
Sevgül Uludağ
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
*** Kaymaklılı Ahmet Hasan anlatıyor...
Küçük Kaymaklı'dan bir çocuğun hatıraları…
Bahçemde, kaplumbağaların yüzdüğü havuzun yanında oturuyoruz bir Pazar günü, sessiz bir ikindi vakti... Sevgili arkadaşımız Ahmet Hasan bana çocukluğunun acı ve tatlı hatıralarını anlatıyor...
Onu en az 30 yıldır tanırım ama bugüne kadar hiçbir zaman çocukluğundan söz etmemişti... Belki de bugün yalnızca kumruların kanat çırpışlarıyla bozulan mahallenin sessizliği onu konuşmaya itti... Belki son 30 yıldır bunları konuşmaya hiç fırsat bulamamıştık... Nedeni ne olursa olsun nihayet konuşmaya karar vermiş gibi görünüyor...
Küçük Kaymaklı'dan Ahmet Hasan bana çocukluğunda yaşadıklarını anlatıyor:
"Aralık 1963'te ben beş buçuk yaşlarında falandım... 63 olayları çıktığında evimizden ayrılmıştık... Bizi duvarlarda açılan deliklerden, gediklerden geçirerek evden eve geçirmişlerdi... En sonunda bir çıkmaz sokağa girmiştik. Oradan öteye gidilemiyordu... Bunun üzerine çabucak bir merdiven bulup duvara dayamışlar ve bizi duvardan atlatmışlardı... Hepimiz Küçük Kaymaklı'da (Omorfita) Muhtar Yusuf'un evinde toplanmıştık... Sanırım 700 kadar Kıbrıslıtürk, Muhtar Yusuf'un evinde toplanmıştı...
Sonra silahlı bazı Kıbrıslırumlar'ın gelişini hatırlıyorum... Biz çocuklar evin dışında basamaklara oturduyduk, bu Kıbrıslırum askerlerin bizi yoklayacakları söylendiydi, biz da çocuk aklıyla ellerimizi havaya kaldırdıydık, oyun gibi geliyordu bu bize! Yoklayıp bir yerlere birşeyler saklamış mıymışız, ona bakacakmışlar... Bazı Rum askerleri insanların üstünü ararken, bazı silahlı Rum askerlerinin de botlarıyla evlerin kapılarına vurarak, kapıları kırarak evlerin içinde yoklama yaptıklarını hatırlıyorum...
Sonra bizi sıra halinde dizmeye başlamışlardı, itfaiyeci üniforması giymiş olan bir Kıbrıslıtürk'ün de bizi sıraya koymaya çalıştığını hatırlıyorum, sanırım bu, Osman Hüdaverdi idi...
Annemle birlikte iki küçük kızkardeşim vardı, ben babamla birlikteydim, abilerim de bizimle birlikteydi... Bizi uzun uzun yürütmüşlerdi... Yürürlerken, bir ara Ferit abim geriye dönüp neler olduğuna bakınca ona doğru ateş etmişlerdi, Ferit abimi sıyıran kurşunlar bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadına saplanmıştı... O kadın yaralanmıştı ama sanırım sonra onu hastaneye götürmüşlerdi... Nenemiz nüzüldü, yürüyemiyordu ve abilerim onu bir sandalyede oturur vaziyetteyken sandalyenin iki tarafından tutup taşıyorlardı...
Bizi Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'na kadar yürütmüşlerdi... Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nın zemini ıslaktı, bunu da hatırlıyorum...
Esas kıyamet, Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nda kopacaktı! Kadınlar bağırıp çağırıyordu çünkü kocalarının alınıp götürülmesine şiddetle karşı çıkıyorlardı...
Dört-beş tane Kıbrıslıtürk erkeği gruptan ayırıp Regis Dondurma Fabrikası yanındaki bir arka koyduklarını hatırlıyorum... Bu Kıbrıslıtürkler'in gözlerindeki bakışı asla unutmayacağım... Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'ndan alınıp götürülen bu Kıbrıslıtürkler, bugün hala "kayıp"tırlar... O Kıbrıslıtürk itfaiyeci de sanırım Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nda alınıp "kayıp" edilenler arasındaydı... Burada sakallı bir papazın da eli silahlı olarak dondurma fabrikasında bulunduğunu hatırlıyorum...
Sonra dondurma fabrikasına kamyonlar ve otobüsler getirdiklerini hatırlıyorum. Beni bir kamyona bindirmişlerdi...
Sonra bizi "Cikko Cimnasiyosu" dedikleri bir okula götürdüklerini hatırlıyorum... İkinci kattaydık ve bugün dahi sana burasının planını çizebilir, hangi odada kaldığımızı şimdi gitsek gösterebilirim... Annem kızkardeşlerimle birlikte, kadınlarla birlikte kalıyordu, ben, babam ve erkek kardeşlerimle birlikte kalıyordum. Cikko okulunda bize gerçekten kötü davranıyorlardı...
Bu okuda ikinci katta tutulduğumuz odayı hala hatırlarım... Bir ara tuvalete gitmem gerekiyordu, çok sıkışmıştım ve babam beni tuvalete götürmek istemişti. Tuvalet, kaldığımız odanın 5-6 metre ilerisindeydi fakat silahlı Kıbrıslırum askerleri buna müsade etmediler... Böylece çok afedersiniz üstüme yapmıştım, tuvalete gitme iznimiz olmadığı için... Sonradan babamın beni temizlemeye çalıştığını hatırlıyorum...
Pek az yiyecek verdiklerini hatırlıyorum – çok ince bir dilim ekmek, birkaç zeytin. Ne süt, ne başka birşey...
Dışarıda dozerlerin çalıştığını ve çukur kazmakta olduklarını görebiliyorduk, böylece Cikko okulunda kalan Kıbrıslıtürkler, bu çukurların kendileri için kazılmakta olduğunu, öldürülüp bu çukurlara gömüleceklerini anlamışlardı... Sürekli bizi izleyen silahlı Kıbrıslırumlar bulunduğunu hatırlıyorum...
Birkaç gün sonra herşey çok dramatik biçimde değişecekti – ancak büyüdüğüm ve bu konuda abilerimden ve ailemden daha fazla bilgi edindiğim zaman bunun nedenini tam olarak kavrayabilecektim: Bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadın vardı, o 700 kişilik gruptan serbest bırakılan tek kişi bu kadındı... Sanırım 700 civarındaydı Kıbrıslıtürkler ama kesin sayı bilmiyorum, duyduğum rakamlardan bunu çıkarıyorum... Tek bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadın serbest bırakılmıştı. Bu kadın ya Kızılhaç'ta çalıştığı için, ya eşi Kızılhaç'ta çalıştığı için ya da eşi İngiliz olduğu için veya bu tür bir bağlantısı olduğu için serbest bırakılmış. Bu kadın derhal Kıbrıslıtürkler'in Cikko okulunda esir olarak tutulduklarını Kıbrıslıtürk makamlara bildirmiş. Kadın serbest bırakıldıktan bir gün sonra Türkiye'den gelen savaş uçaklarının Cikko Cimnasiyosu üstüne dalış yaparak alçaktan uçuşlar yaptığına tanık olmuştuk... Bu da, Türk yetkililere nerede tutulduğumuzun bildirilmiş olduğuna dair önemli bir işaretti...
İşte ancak bu kadın serbest bırakıldıktan ve Türk jetleri Cikko üstünde alçaktan uçtuktan sonra, ertesi günü Cikko okulunda atmosfer aniden tümüyle değişmişti: Silahlı Kıbrıslırum askerleri gitmiş, yerine üniformalı Yunan askerleri gelmişti... Bunlar herhalde Kıbrıs'taki Yunan Alayı ELDİK'ten askerlerdi... İlk defa bize süt vermeye başlamışlardı... Elbette verdikleri süt, tozsüttü ama yine de süttü... Artık verdikleri yiyecekler biraz daha yenebilir nitelikte yiyeceklere dönüşmüştü... İlk kez okulun avlusuna çıkıp oynamamıza izin vermişlerdi... Sonra İngiliz askerlerinin gelip bizi götürmek istediğini ama Kıbrıslıtürk kadınların gene isyan çıkarıp gitmek istemediklerini hatırlıyorum... Çünkü okuldan sadece kadınları ve çocukları götürmek istiyordu İngiliz askerleri. Oysa kadınlar "Biz da kalacağız" deyip direnmişler ve "Kocalarımızı, oğlularımızı yanımıza almadan hiçbir yere gitmeyiz" demişlerdi... Sonuçta kadınların bu direnişi sonuç vermiş ve bütün grup yani Cikko okulunda tutulan 700 küsur Kıbrıslıtürk, esir tutuldukları bu yerden alınarak serbest bırakılmışlardı...
Bir yerlerde Makarios'a yakın bir Kıbrıslırum kadın olan Urania Hanım'ın Makarios'a telefon ederek Kaymaklı'dan esir alınanların öldürüleceği hakkında Makarios'a bilgi verdiğini, bunun üzerine Makarios'un bunu engellemek ve Cikko okulunda tutulan Kıbrıslıtürk esirleri korumak üzere Yunan Alayı ELDİK'i görevlendirdiğini okuduydum. Ancak bu tam olarak gerçeği yansıtmıyor... Gerçek, sana anlattığımdır – Kızılhaç'la bir bağlantısı bulunan o Kıbrıslıtürk kadın serbest bırakılınca, bir fark yaratmış, gidip esirlerin nerede tutulduğunu bildirmiş ve ancak Türk savaş uçakları Cikko okulu üstünde uçtuktan sonra ELDİK gelip Cikko okulunda esirleri devralmıştı. Kayıtlara geçsin diye söylüyorum bunları, yazasın ki gerçek ortaya çıksın...
Cikko Okulu'ndan alındıktan sonra Lefkoşa'nın Türk kesimine getirilmiştik. Lefkoşa'da Tekke Bahçesi civarında yaşamaya başlamıştık... Burada yaşarken, babam Ayvasıl'da göreve çağrılmıştı... Ayvasıl'daki (Türkeli) toplu mezarların açılışında görev yapmıştı babam, buraya 21 kadar Kıbrıslıtürk gömülmüştü... Babam, bu toplu mezarları açıp içine gömülmüş olan Kıbrıslıtürkler'in naaşlarını çıkaranlar arasındaydı... Hatta bu toplu mezarlardan çekilmiş fotoğraflarda arkası dönük olarak görünüyor... İşte bu toplu mezarları açarken 10 yaşındaki küçük Ayşe'yi de toplu mezarlardan çıkaracaktı, Ayşeciğin elleri bağlanmış, üstünde kurşun delikleri vardı... Bu küçük kız akrabamızdı ve babamın eve gelip anneme küçük Ayşe'yi, başka Kıbrıslıtürkler'le birlikte Ayvasıl'daki toplu mezardan çıkardığını büyük bir üzüntüyle anlatışını hatırlıyorum... Bu toplu mezarlar açıldıktan tam 40 gün sonra babama şeker gelmişti – elbette herhalde diyabete yatkın olabilirdi ancak böylesi büyük bir travma ve böylesi büyük bir üzüntüden sonra gelmişti ona şeker hastalığı...
Tekke Bahçesi'nde bir odacıkta kaldıktan bir süre sonra Atatürk İlkokulu'na gönderilmiştik, burada okulun üst katında iki ya da üç yıl kadar göçmen olarak yaşayacaktık... Daha sonra da dayımın evine giderek toparlanmaya çalışacaktık...
Çocukluğumdan hatırladığım bir başka üzücü hatıram daha vardır – o da Hambis'in kızının serseri bir kurşuna kurban gitmesidir... Hambis, tıpkı Elenu, Hristallu ve Fodu gibi komşularımızdı Kaymaklı'da... Hambis'in kızı altı yaşlarındaydı... Onunla sokakta oynardık... Hambis'in Uzunyol'da (Ledra Street) bir tatlıcı dükkanı vardı, dayım Ahmet'le çok ahbaptı... Dayım Ahmet Altıparmak İstanbul'a gitmiş, orada baklavanın nasıl yapıldığını öğrenmişti. Dayım İstanbul'dan döndükten sonra Hambis'le birlikte ikisinin baklava yapmayı denediklerini hatırlıyorum... Birlikte baklava yapmaya çalışırlardı... Ta ki tam istedikleri kıvamı tutturuncaya kadar pek çok kez baklava hamuru açtıklarını hatırlıyorum... Hambis'in kızı o günlerde moda olan İskoç etek giyerdi, eteğin önünde, yan tarafına doğru da bir ganca iğne olurdu... O günlerde moda böyleydi... Hambis'in bu İskoç etekli küçük kızıyla sokakta oynadığımızı hatırlarım, sonraları o çatışma günlerinde kızının serseri bir kurşunla öldürüldüğünü duymuştuk... Buna çok üzülmüştüm... Yıllar sonra ailem, Hambis'in ailesini ziyaret ederek, komşuluk anılarını tazelemişlerdi.. Bay Hambis'in vefat ettiğini, artık hayatta olmadığını işittim... Kaymaklı'da Kıbrıslırum komşularımızla ilişkilerimiz çok iyiydi... Tek bir Kıbrıslırum kadın vardı komşularımız arasında, Kıbrıslıtürkler'i hiç sevmeyen ama onun dışındakilerle komşuluk ilişkilerimiz çok iyiydi..."
Kaymaklı'dan hatıralarını paylaşan Ahmet Hasan, tüm ömrünü barışçıl bir ada, eşitlik ve özgürlük için mücadelede geçirdi... Çocukluğunun bu acı hatıralarının duruşunu etkilemesine izin vermedi – geçmişle yüzleşmemiz, geçmişte neler yaşandığını öğrenmemiz, geçmişte neler yaşandığını iyice bilmemiz, barışçıl bir ada için mücadelemizi engellemiyor. Tam tersine, eğer geçmişte neler yaşandığını tam olarak bilmezsek, hiçbir zaman bu adada barışa giden doğru yolu bulamayabiliriz...
(*) Bu yazı 18.11.2011 tarihinde YENİDÜZEN gazetesinde yayımlanmıştır.
Αναμνήσεις ενός παιδιού από την Ομορφίτα…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Τηλ: 99 966518
Καθόμαστε στον κήπο μου δίπλα από τη λιμνούλα με τις χελώνες και απολαμβάνουμε ένα ήσυχο Κυριακάτικο απόγευμα… Ο καλός μας φίλος Ahmet Hasan αρχίζει να μου εξιστορεί τις πικρές και γλυκές ιστορίες της παιδικής του ηλικίας… Τον ξέρω για τουλάχιστον 30 χρόνια και ποτέ δεν μίλησε για την παιδική του ηλικία. Ίσως είναι η ησυχία της γειτονιάς που διακόπτεται μόνο από το φτερούγισμα των περιστεριών που τον ενθάρρυνε να μιλήσει… Όποιος και να είναι ο λόγος, αποφάσισε να μιλήσει… Ο Ahmet μου λέει την ιστορία του:
«Ήμουν μόλις πεντέμισι χρονών το Δεκέμβρη του 1963 και έπρεπε να φύγουμε από το σπίτι μας διότι υπήρχαν συγκρούσεις… Μας πέρασαν από ορισμένες τρύπες σε τοίχους σπιτιών και στο τέλος καταλήξαμε σε ένα δρόμο που ήταν αδιέξοδο… Στα γρήγορα βρήκαμε μια σκάλα και μας πέρασαν πάνω από τον τοίχο για να μαζευτούμε στο σπίτι του μουχτάρη του Kuchuk Kaymakli (Ομορφίτα)… Περίπου 700 Τουρκοκύπριοι συγκεντρώθηκαν στο σπίτι του μουχτάρη Yusuf…
Μετά ήρθαν ορισμένοι Ελληνοκύπριοι με όπλα… Καθόμασταν στα σκαλιά και ακούγαμε ότι επρόκειτο να μας ερευνήσουν… Ως παιδιά, σηκώσαμε τα χέρια μας, νομίζοντας ότι ήταν ένα παιγνίδι! Ότι θα έψαχναν τα σώματα μας για να δουν αν είχαμε κρύψει κάτι! Καθώς οι Ελληνοκύπριοι έκαναν τις έρευνες, θυμούμαι κάποιους άλλους Ελληνοκύπριους με όπλα, που κτυπούσαν τις πόρτες των σπιτιών με τα άρβυλα τους, τις έσπαζαν και ερευνούσαν…
Μετά μας έβαλαν σε μια σειρά και θυμούμαι ένα Τουρκοκύπριο ένστολο πυροσβέστη, τον Osman Hudaverdi, που προσπαθούσε να μας βάλει σε σειρά…
Η μητέρα μου είχε τις δύο μικρές μου αδελφές μαζί της και ο πατέρας μου είχε εμένα και τους μεγαλύτερους αδελφού μου… Μας ανάγκασαν να περπατήσουμε… Πρώτα πήγαμε στο Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis… Το πάτωμα ήταν βρεγμένο, αυτό το θυμούμαι καλά…
Ήταν στο Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis που ξέσπασε η κόλαση! Οι γυναίκες φώναζαν και έκλαιγαν αφού άρχισαν να επιλέγουν και να απομακρύνουν τους συζύγους τους… Θυμούμαι μια καμάρα κοντά στο εργοστάσιο όπου είχαν πάρει τέσσερεις ή πέντε Τουρκοκύπριους άντρες… Ποτέ δεν θα ξεχάσω το βλέμμα στα μάτια τους… Όλοι εκείνοι τους οποίους πήραν από το Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis σήμερα είναι ακόμα «αγνοούμενοι»… Και ο Τουρκοκύπριος πυροσβέστης είναι «αγνοούμενος» από εκείνη τη μέρα…
Μετά έφεραν φορτηγά και λεωφορεία. Με έβαλαν σε ένα φορτηγό… Μας πήραν σε ένα σχολείο που ονομάζεται «Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου» και ενώ η μητέρα μου είχε τις μικρότερες αδελφές μου μαζί της, εγώ έμεινα με τον πατέρα μου και τους μεγαλύτερους αδελφούς μου… Μας κακομεταχειρίστηκαν πολύ σε αυτό το σχολείο…
Θυμούμαι ακόμα το δωμάτιο στο οποίο μας έβαλαν, στο δεύτερο όροφο… Έπρεπε να πάω στην τουαλέτα και ο πατέρας μου ήθελε να με πάρει – η τουαλέτα ήταν μόνο 5-6 μέτρα μακριά αλλά οι Ελληνοκύπριοι με τα όπλα δεν τον άφησαν να με πάρει στην τουαλέτα. Έτσι έκανα πάνω μου αφού δεν μπορούσαν να κρατηθώ άλλο και μετά, θυμούμαι τον πατέρα μου να προσπαθεί να με καθαρίσει…
Μας έδιναν πολύ λίγο φαγητό – μια λεπτή φέτα ψωμί με λίγες ελιές, καθόλου γάλα, τίποτα…
Βλέπαμε τις μπουλντόζες που δούλευαν έξω, άνοιγαν χαντάκια και οι Τουρκοκύπριοι στο Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου συνειδητοποίησαν ότι τα χαντάκια αυτά σκάβονταν για αυτούς, ότι θα τους σκότωναν και θα τους έθαβαν εκεί… Θυμούμαι Ελληνοκύπριους με όπλα που μας έβλεπαν και ανάμεσα τους ήταν ένας Ελληνοκύπριος ιερέας με γενειάδα και όπλο!
Τα πράγματα άλλαξαν δραστικά μετά από ορισμένες μέρες – όταν μεγάλωσα ανακάλυψα τον λόγο: Υπήρχε μια Τουρκοκύπρια γυναίκα που αφέθηκε ελεύθερη από τους 700 Τουρκοκύπριους αιχμαλώτους… Νομίζω ότι ο αριθμός των αιχμαλώτων ήταν περισσότερος από 700 αλλά άκουσα διάφορους αριθμούς – ας πούμε εκατοντάδες αιχμαλώτων αλλά μόνο μια Τουρκοκύπρια γυναίκα αφέθηκε ελεύθερη… Η γυναίκα αυτή είτε εργαζόταν στον Ερυθρό Σταυρό είτε ήταν παντρεμένη με κάποιο που εργαζόταν στον Ερυθρό Σταυρό… Πήγε και γνωστοποίησε την παρουσία των Τουρκοκυπρίων αιχμαλώτων και το μέρος στο οποίο κρατούνταν. Μια μέρα μετά την απελευθέρωση της, ακούσαμε Τουρκικά μαχητικά που έρχονταν και πετούσαν πάνω από το Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου – ένα σημάδι ότι ενημερώθηκαν για το που βρισκόμαστε…
Την επόμενη μέρα η ατμόσφαιρα στο Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου άλλαξε εντελώς: Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι με τα όπλα έφυγαν και αντικαταστήθηκαν από Έλληνες ένστολους στρατιώτες – πιθανόν στρατιώτες της ΕΛΔΥΚ – και για πρώτη φορά μας έδωσαν γάλα… Γάλα σε σκόνη, αλλά ήταν γάλα… Τα τρόφιμα ήταν πιο καλά και μας άφηναν να πάμε στην αυλή του σχολείου για να παίξουμε… Μετά ήρθαν Βρετανοί στρατιώτες για να μας πάρουν πίσω αλλά οι Τουρκοκύπριες γυναίκες εξεγέρθηκαν και δεν ήθελαν να πάνε διότι θα απομακρύνονταν μόνο οι γυναίκες και τα παιδιά από το σχολείο. Οι γυναίκες αρνήθηκαν να φύγουν εκτός αν έφευγαν με τους συζύγους τους… Αντιστάθηκαν και στο τέλος ολόκληρη η ομάδα των 700 περίπου Τουρκοκυπρίων εκκενώθηκε από εκεί που κρατούνταν αιχμάλωτοι.
Διάβασα κάπου ότι μια Ελληνοκύπρια γυναίκα, που ήταν κοντά στον Μακάριο, του τηλεφώνησε και του είπε για τα σχέδια να εκτελεστούν οι Τουρκοκύπριοι αιχμάλωτοι από το Καϊμακλί και ότι αυτός έστειλε αμέσως την ΕΛΔΥΚ για να το αποτρέψει. Δεν νομίζω ότι αυτό είναι αλήθεια – η αλήθεια είναι αυτή που σου είπα – η διαφορά έγινε από αυτή την γυναίκα που αφέθηκε ελεύθερη λόγω της σχέσης της με τον Ερυθρό Σταυρό. Και μόνο μετά που πέταξαν τα Τουρκικά μαχητικά πάνω από το Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου ήρθε η ΕΛΔΥΚ… Για την ιστορία, θα πρέπει να το γράψεις αυτό προκειμένου να διορθωθεί και να αντικατοπτρίζει αυτό που συνέβη στην πραγματικότητα...
Μας πήραν στον Τουρκικό τομέα της Λευκωσίας και αρχίζαμε να ζούμε στην περιοχή Tekke Bahchesi και πολύ σύντομα μετά, ο πατέρας μου καλέστηκε για να πάει στον Άγιο Βασίλειο (Ayvasil – Turkeli) για να βοηθήσει να ανοιχτεί ένας μαζικός τάφος όπου είχαν θαφτεί πάνω από 21 Τουρκοκύπριοι. Εργαζόταν στο άνοιγμα του μαζικού τάφου και είδε την μικρή Ayshe, που δεν ήταν περισσότερο από 10 χρονών, με τα χέρια της δεμένα και με τρύπες από σφαίρες… Αυτό το μικρό κορίτσι ήταν μια συγγενής και θυμούμαι τον πατέρα μου να έρχεται στο σπίτι με μια βαθιά θλίψη και να λέει στην μητέρα μου ότι βρήκε την Ayshe στο μαζικό τάφο, ανάμεσα σε άλλου Τουρκοκύπριους που είχαν σκοτωθεί και θαφτεί εκεί… Μετά από ακριβώς 40 μέρες ο πατέρας μου έγινε «διαβητικός» - σίγουρα το σώμα του είχε τάση για διαβήτη αλλά μετά από ένα τόσο μεγάλο τραύμα και τόση μεγάλη θλίψη, ο διαβήτης εκδηλώθηκε… Περάσαμε λίγο καιρό στην περιοχή Tekke Bahchesi και μετά μας έστειλαν στο Δημοτικό Σχολείο Ataturk όπου ζήσαμε για δύο ή τρία χρόνια πρόσφυγες… Αργότερα, πήγαμε στο σπίτι του θείου μου και προσπαθήσαμε να συνέλθουμε…
Θυμούμαι άλλη μια θλιβερή ιστορία από την παιδική μου ηλικία, την κόρη του Χαμπή να σκοτώνεται από μια αδέσποτη σφαίρα… Ο Χαμπής ήταν ο γείτονας μας, όπως η Ελενού και η Χρυσταλλού και η Φωτού… Η κόρη του Χαμπή ήταν περίπου έξι χρονών και παίζαμε στο δρόμο… Ο Χαμπής είχε ζαχαροπλαστείο στην οδό Λήδρας και ο θείος μου Ahmet ταξίδευε στην Ίνσταπουλ και επέστρεφε έχοντας μάθει πώς να φτιάχνει μπακλαβά. Θυμούμαι τον Χαμπή και το θείο μου να προσπαθούν μαζί να φτιάξουν μπακλαβά, να μαθαίνουν μαζί, να προσπαθούν πολλές φορές μέχρι να πετύχουν τον μπακλαβά… Η κόρη του Χαμπή φορούσε μια καρό Σκοτσέζικη φούστα με μια παραμάνα στη μια πλευρά, μια πολύ μεγάλη παραμάνα διότι εκείνο τον καιρό ήταν στη μόδα… Θυμούμαι έπαιζα μαζί της στο δρόμο και αργότερα μάθαμε ότι πυροβολήθηκε και σκοτώθηκε εκείνες τις μέρες των συγκρούσεων… Ένιωθα θλίψη που την έχασα έτσι και χρόνια μετά, τα αδέλφια μου πήγαν και επισκέφτηκαν την οικογένεια του Χαμπή και μοιράστηκαν τις αναμνήσεις της γειτονιάς… Άκουσα ότι ο κύριος Χαμπής έχει πεθάνει… Υπήρχε μόνο μια Ελληνοκύπρια γειτόνισσα στην οποία δεν άρεσαν οι Τουρκοκύπριοι και έτσι δεν συναναστρεφόμασταν μαζί της, αλλά η φιλία μας με τους άλλους γείτονες ήταν μια χαρά…»|
Ο Ahmet πέρασε όλη του τη ζωή προσπαθώντας να δημιουργήσει ένα δίκαιο, ειρηνικό νησί, ισότητα και ελευθερία… Δεν άφησε τις πικρές αναμνήσεις της παιδικής του ηλικίας να εμποδίσουν τη στάση του – στο κάτω-κάτω, το να αναγνωρίσουμε αυτά που έχουν συμβεί, το να ξέρουμε τι έχει συμβεί, δεν μας σταματά από το να εργαστούμε για ένα ειρηνικό νησί… Απεναντίας, αν δεν αναγνωρίσουμε και αρνούμαστε να ξέρουμε αυτά που συνέβηκαν, μπορεί να μην καταφέρουμε ποτέ να βρούμε το σωστό δρόμο που θα μας οδηγήσει στην ειρήνη σε αυτό το νησί…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 13th of November 2011, Sunday.
Painting by Rene Magritte...
Memories of a child from Omorphita... (*)
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Tel: 99 966518
We sit in my garden, next to the pond with the turtles, enjoying a quiet afternoon on a Sunday... Our dear friend Ahmet Hasan, starts telling me the bitter and sweet stories from his childhood... I have known him for at least 30 years and he had never spoken about his childhood. Perhaps it's the quietness of the neighbourhood, broken only with the clutter of the wings of doves that has encouraged him to speak... Whatever the reason, he has decided to speak... Ahmet tells me his story:
`I was only five and a half years old in December 1963 and we had to leave our house because there was fighting... They would pass us through some holes in some walls of houses and in the end, we would end up at a street which had a dead end... Quickly, they would find a ladder and pass us over the wall in order to reach and gather in the house of the Mukhtar of Kuchuk Kaymakli (Omorphita)… Around 700 Turkish Cypriots would gather in the house of Mukhtar Yusuf…
Then would come some Greek Cypriots with guns… We would be sitting on the steps and we would hear that they were going to search us… As children, we would raise our hands, thinking this was just a game! That they were going to search our bodies to see if we had anything hidden! As the Greek Cypriots would do the body searches, I remember some other Greek Cypriots with guns, hitting the doors of houses with their boots, breaking in and searching…
Then they put us in a row and I remember a Turkish Cypriot fireman in uniform, Osman Hudaverdi, trying to put us in a line…
My mother had my two small sisters with her and my father had me and my elder brothers with him… They would make us walk... We would travel first to the Regis Ice Cream Factory… The floor would be all wet, that I remember quite well…
It was at the Regis Ice Cream Factory that hell would break loose! Women would be shouting and crying since they had started choosing and taking their husbands away… I remember an arch near the factory where they had taken four or five Turkish Cypriot men… I shall never forget the look in their eyes… All those they took away from the Regis Ice Cream Factory are still `missing persons` today… The Turkish Cypriot fireman too, has been `missing` since that day…
Then they would bring trucks and buses. I would be put on a truck… They would take us to a school building called `Kykkos Gymnasium` and while my mother had my younger sisters with her, I would stay with my father and my elder brothers… We would get very bad treatment while at this school…
I still remember the room we were put in, on the second floor… I would have to go to toilet and my father would want to take me – the toilet was just 5-6 meters away but the Greek Cypriots with guns would not allow him to take me to toilet. So I would soil myself, not being able to hold it anymore and afterwards, I remember my father trying to clean me up…
We would be given very little food – just a very thin slice of bread with a few olives, no milk, no nothing…
We would see the bulldozers outside working, opening ditches and the Turkish Cypriots in the Kykkos Gymnasium would realize that these ditches were being dug for them, that they would be killed and buried in those ditches… I remember seeing Greek Cypriots with guns, watching us, among them a Greek Cypriot priest with a beard and a gun!
Things would change dramatically after some days – as I would grow up, I would discover the reason: That there had been one Turkish Cypriot, a woman I think, who had been set free from the 700 Turkish Cypriot prisoners… I think the number of prisoners was more than 700 but I heard different figures – let's say hundreds of prisoners and only one Turkish Cypriot woman had been set free… This woman was either working for the Red Cross or was married to someone who had been working at the Red Cross… She would go and notify the presence of the Turkish Cypriot prisoners and the place they were being kept. A day after her release, we would hear Turkish jets coming and diving above the Kykkos Gymnasium – a sign that they had been notified about our whereabouts…
Next day the atmosphere at the Kykkos Gymnasium would completely change: The Greek Cypriots with guns would be gone, being replaced by Greek soldiers in uniform – probably soldiers of ELDIK – and for the first time we would get milk… Powdered milk but still, milk… Food would be more edible and we would be allowed to go in the yard of the school to play… Then would come British soldiers to take us back but the Turkish Cypriot women would revolt and would not want to go because only women and children would be evacuated from the school. The women would refuse to leave, unless they would leave with their husbands… They would resist and in the end, the whole group of 700 something Turkish Cypriots would be evacuated from where they were being held as prisoners.
I read somewhere that a Greek Cypriot woman, close to Makarios had called him and told him the plans to execute the Turkish Cypriots taken as prisoners from Kaymakli and that he had sent ELDIK immediately in order to prevent this. I don't think that this reflects the truth – the truth is what I have told you – the difference was made by this woman who had been released due to her connection to the Red Cross. And only after the Turkish planes flew over the Kykkos Gymnasium, ELDIK would come… For the record, you should write this in order to correct and reflect what actually happened…
We would be taken to the Turkish sector of Nicosia and we would start living at the Tekke Bahchesi area and very soon after, my father would be called to go to Agios Vassilios (Ayvasil – Turkeli) in order to help open a mass grave where more than 21 Turkish Cypriots had been buried. He would work in the actual opening of the mass grave and would see the little Ayshe, not more than 10 years old, with hands tied and with bullet holes… This little girl had been one of our relatives and I remember my father coming home with a deep sadness and telling my mother about finding Ayshe in the mass grave, among other Turkish Cypriots who had been killed and buried there… After exactly 40 days, my father would become `diabetic` - sure his body must have had a tendency to become diabetic but after such a big trauma and such big sadness, he would get it… We would spend some time at the Tekke Bahchesi area and then we would be sent to the Ataturk Primary School where we would live for two or three years as refugees… Later on, we would go to my uncle's house and then try to pull ourselves together…
I remember another sad story from my childhood, the daughter of Hambis being killed with a stray bullet… Hambis was our neighbor like Elenou and Christallou and Fodu… The daughter of Hambis was about six years old; we would play in the street… Hambis had a confectionary at the Ledra Street and my uncle Ahmet would travel to Istanbul and come back, having learnt how to make baklava. I remember Hambis and my uncle, together trying to make baklava, learning together, trying out many times until they would get it right… The daughter of Hambis would wear a Scotch skirt with a safety pin on the side, a very big safety pin because in those times that would be the fashion… I remember playing with her in the street and later on we would hear that she had been shot and killed during those days of fighting… I would feel sad for losing her like that and years later, my brothers would go and visit the family of Hambis, sharing their memories of neighborhood… I heard that Mr. Hambis has passed away… There would be only one Greek Cypriot neighbor who did not like Turkish Cypriots so we would not mix with her but our friendship with our other neighbors would be fine…`
Ahmet has spent all his life for creating a just, peaceful island, for equality and freedom… He has not allowed the bitter memories of his childhood to hinder his stand – after all, acknowledging what has happened, knowing what has happened, does not hinder us from working for a peaceful island… On the contrary if we do not acknowledge and refuse to know what has happened, we might never be able to find the right path that would lead us towards peace on this island…
24.10.2011
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 13th of November 2011, Sunday.
Kıbrıs: Anlatılmamış Öyküler…
Sevgül Uludağ
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
*** Kaymaklılı Ahmet Hasan anlatıyor...
Küçük Kaymaklı'dan bir çocuğun hatıraları…
Bahçemde, kaplumbağaların yüzdüğü havuzun yanında oturuyoruz bir Pazar günü, sessiz bir ikindi vakti... Sevgili arkadaşımız Ahmet Hasan bana çocukluğunun acı ve tatlı hatıralarını anlatıyor...
Onu en az 30 yıldır tanırım ama bugüne kadar hiçbir zaman çocukluğundan söz etmemişti... Belki de bugün yalnızca kumruların kanat çırpışlarıyla bozulan mahallenin sessizliği onu konuşmaya itti... Belki son 30 yıldır bunları konuşmaya hiç fırsat bulamamıştık... Nedeni ne olursa olsun nihayet konuşmaya karar vermiş gibi görünüyor...
Küçük Kaymaklı'dan Ahmet Hasan bana çocukluğunda yaşadıklarını anlatıyor:
"Aralık 1963'te ben beş buçuk yaşlarında falandım... 63 olayları çıktığında evimizden ayrılmıştık... Bizi duvarlarda açılan deliklerden, gediklerden geçirerek evden eve geçirmişlerdi... En sonunda bir çıkmaz sokağa girmiştik. Oradan öteye gidilemiyordu... Bunun üzerine çabucak bir merdiven bulup duvara dayamışlar ve bizi duvardan atlatmışlardı... Hepimiz Küçük Kaymaklı'da (Omorfita) Muhtar Yusuf'un evinde toplanmıştık... Sanırım 700 kadar Kıbrıslıtürk, Muhtar Yusuf'un evinde toplanmıştı...
Sonra silahlı bazı Kıbrıslırumlar'ın gelişini hatırlıyorum... Biz çocuklar evin dışında basamaklara oturduyduk, bu Kıbrıslırum askerlerin bizi yoklayacakları söylendiydi, biz da çocuk aklıyla ellerimizi havaya kaldırdıydık, oyun gibi geliyordu bu bize! Yoklayıp bir yerlere birşeyler saklamış mıymışız, ona bakacakmışlar... Bazı Rum askerleri insanların üstünü ararken, bazı silahlı Rum askerlerinin de botlarıyla evlerin kapılarına vurarak, kapıları kırarak evlerin içinde yoklama yaptıklarını hatırlıyorum...
Sonra bizi sıra halinde dizmeye başlamışlardı, itfaiyeci üniforması giymiş olan bir Kıbrıslıtürk'ün de bizi sıraya koymaya çalıştığını hatırlıyorum, sanırım bu, Osman Hüdaverdi idi...
Annemle birlikte iki küçük kızkardeşim vardı, ben babamla birlikteydim, abilerim de bizimle birlikteydi... Bizi uzun uzun yürütmüşlerdi... Yürürlerken, bir ara Ferit abim geriye dönüp neler olduğuna bakınca ona doğru ateş etmişlerdi, Ferit abimi sıyıran kurşunlar bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadına saplanmıştı... O kadın yaralanmıştı ama sanırım sonra onu hastaneye götürmüşlerdi... Nenemiz nüzüldü, yürüyemiyordu ve abilerim onu bir sandalyede oturur vaziyetteyken sandalyenin iki tarafından tutup taşıyorlardı...
Bizi Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'na kadar yürütmüşlerdi... Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nın zemini ıslaktı, bunu da hatırlıyorum...
Esas kıyamet, Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nda kopacaktı! Kadınlar bağırıp çağırıyordu çünkü kocalarının alınıp götürülmesine şiddetle karşı çıkıyorlardı...
Dört-beş tane Kıbrıslıtürk erkeği gruptan ayırıp Regis Dondurma Fabrikası yanındaki bir arka koyduklarını hatırlıyorum... Bu Kıbrıslıtürkler'in gözlerindeki bakışı asla unutmayacağım... Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'ndan alınıp götürülen bu Kıbrıslıtürkler, bugün hala "kayıp"tırlar... O Kıbrıslıtürk itfaiyeci de sanırım Regis Dondurma Fabrikası'nda alınıp "kayıp" edilenler arasındaydı... Burada sakallı bir papazın da eli silahlı olarak dondurma fabrikasında bulunduğunu hatırlıyorum...
Sonra dondurma fabrikasına kamyonlar ve otobüsler getirdiklerini hatırlıyorum. Beni bir kamyona bindirmişlerdi...
Sonra bizi "Cikko Cimnasiyosu" dedikleri bir okula götürdüklerini hatırlıyorum... İkinci kattaydık ve bugün dahi sana burasının planını çizebilir, hangi odada kaldığımızı şimdi gitsek gösterebilirim... Annem kızkardeşlerimle birlikte, kadınlarla birlikte kalıyordu, ben, babam ve erkek kardeşlerimle birlikte kalıyordum. Cikko okulunda bize gerçekten kötü davranıyorlardı...
Bu okuda ikinci katta tutulduğumuz odayı hala hatırlarım... Bir ara tuvalete gitmem gerekiyordu, çok sıkışmıştım ve babam beni tuvalete götürmek istemişti. Tuvalet, kaldığımız odanın 5-6 metre ilerisindeydi fakat silahlı Kıbrıslırum askerleri buna müsade etmediler... Böylece çok afedersiniz üstüme yapmıştım, tuvalete gitme iznimiz olmadığı için... Sonradan babamın beni temizlemeye çalıştığını hatırlıyorum...
Pek az yiyecek verdiklerini hatırlıyorum – çok ince bir dilim ekmek, birkaç zeytin. Ne süt, ne başka birşey...
Dışarıda dozerlerin çalıştığını ve çukur kazmakta olduklarını görebiliyorduk, böylece Cikko okulunda kalan Kıbrıslıtürkler, bu çukurların kendileri için kazılmakta olduğunu, öldürülüp bu çukurlara gömüleceklerini anlamışlardı... Sürekli bizi izleyen silahlı Kıbrıslırumlar bulunduğunu hatırlıyorum...
Birkaç gün sonra herşey çok dramatik biçimde değişecekti – ancak büyüdüğüm ve bu konuda abilerimden ve ailemden daha fazla bilgi edindiğim zaman bunun nedenini tam olarak kavrayabilecektim: Bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadın vardı, o 700 kişilik gruptan serbest bırakılan tek kişi bu kadındı... Sanırım 700 civarındaydı Kıbrıslıtürkler ama kesin sayı bilmiyorum, duyduğum rakamlardan bunu çıkarıyorum... Tek bir Kıbrıslıtürk kadın serbest bırakılmıştı. Bu kadın ya Kızılhaç'ta çalıştığı için, ya eşi Kızılhaç'ta çalıştığı için ya da eşi İngiliz olduğu için veya bu tür bir bağlantısı olduğu için serbest bırakılmış. Bu kadın derhal Kıbrıslıtürkler'in Cikko okulunda esir olarak tutulduklarını Kıbrıslıtürk makamlara bildirmiş. Kadın serbest bırakıldıktan bir gün sonra Türkiye'den gelen savaş uçaklarının Cikko Cimnasiyosu üstüne dalış yaparak alçaktan uçuşlar yaptığına tanık olmuştuk... Bu da, Türk yetkililere nerede tutulduğumuzun bildirilmiş olduğuna dair önemli bir işaretti...
İşte ancak bu kadın serbest bırakıldıktan ve Türk jetleri Cikko üstünde alçaktan uçtuktan sonra, ertesi günü Cikko okulunda atmosfer aniden tümüyle değişmişti: Silahlı Kıbrıslırum askerleri gitmiş, yerine üniformalı Yunan askerleri gelmişti... Bunlar herhalde Kıbrıs'taki Yunan Alayı ELDİK'ten askerlerdi... İlk defa bize süt vermeye başlamışlardı... Elbette verdikleri süt, tozsüttü ama yine de süttü... Artık verdikleri yiyecekler biraz daha yenebilir nitelikte yiyeceklere dönüşmüştü... İlk kez okulun avlusuna çıkıp oynamamıza izin vermişlerdi... Sonra İngiliz askerlerinin gelip bizi götürmek istediğini ama Kıbrıslıtürk kadınların gene isyan çıkarıp gitmek istemediklerini hatırlıyorum... Çünkü okuldan sadece kadınları ve çocukları götürmek istiyordu İngiliz askerleri. Oysa kadınlar "Biz da kalacağız" deyip direnmişler ve "Kocalarımızı, oğlularımızı yanımıza almadan hiçbir yere gitmeyiz" demişlerdi... Sonuçta kadınların bu direnişi sonuç vermiş ve bütün grup yani Cikko okulunda tutulan 700 küsur Kıbrıslıtürk, esir tutuldukları bu yerden alınarak serbest bırakılmışlardı...
Bir yerlerde Makarios'a yakın bir Kıbrıslırum kadın olan Urania Hanım'ın Makarios'a telefon ederek Kaymaklı'dan esir alınanların öldürüleceği hakkında Makarios'a bilgi verdiğini, bunun üzerine Makarios'un bunu engellemek ve Cikko okulunda tutulan Kıbrıslıtürk esirleri korumak üzere Yunan Alayı ELDİK'i görevlendirdiğini okuduydum. Ancak bu tam olarak gerçeği yansıtmıyor... Gerçek, sana anlattığımdır – Kızılhaç'la bir bağlantısı bulunan o Kıbrıslıtürk kadın serbest bırakılınca, bir fark yaratmış, gidip esirlerin nerede tutulduğunu bildirmiş ve ancak Türk savaş uçakları Cikko okulu üstünde uçtuktan sonra ELDİK gelip Cikko okulunda esirleri devralmıştı. Kayıtlara geçsin diye söylüyorum bunları, yazasın ki gerçek ortaya çıksın...
Cikko Okulu'ndan alındıktan sonra Lefkoşa'nın Türk kesimine getirilmiştik. Lefkoşa'da Tekke Bahçesi civarında yaşamaya başlamıştık... Burada yaşarken, babam Ayvasıl'da göreve çağrılmıştı... Ayvasıl'daki (Türkeli) toplu mezarların açılışında görev yapmıştı babam, buraya 21 kadar Kıbrıslıtürk gömülmüştü... Babam, bu toplu mezarları açıp içine gömülmüş olan Kıbrıslıtürkler'in naaşlarını çıkaranlar arasındaydı... Hatta bu toplu mezarlardan çekilmiş fotoğraflarda arkası dönük olarak görünüyor... İşte bu toplu mezarları açarken 10 yaşındaki küçük Ayşe'yi de toplu mezarlardan çıkaracaktı, Ayşeciğin elleri bağlanmış, üstünde kurşun delikleri vardı... Bu küçük kız akrabamızdı ve babamın eve gelip anneme küçük Ayşe'yi, başka Kıbrıslıtürkler'le birlikte Ayvasıl'daki toplu mezardan çıkardığını büyük bir üzüntüyle anlatışını hatırlıyorum... Bu toplu mezarlar açıldıktan tam 40 gün sonra babama şeker gelmişti – elbette herhalde diyabete yatkın olabilirdi ancak böylesi büyük bir travma ve böylesi büyük bir üzüntüden sonra gelmişti ona şeker hastalığı...
Tekke Bahçesi'nde bir odacıkta kaldıktan bir süre sonra Atatürk İlkokulu'na gönderilmiştik, burada okulun üst katında iki ya da üç yıl kadar göçmen olarak yaşayacaktık... Daha sonra da dayımın evine giderek toparlanmaya çalışacaktık...
Çocukluğumdan hatırladığım bir başka üzücü hatıram daha vardır – o da Hambis'in kızının serseri bir kurşuna kurban gitmesidir... Hambis, tıpkı Elenu, Hristallu ve Fodu gibi komşularımızdı Kaymaklı'da... Hambis'in kızı altı yaşlarındaydı... Onunla sokakta oynardık... Hambis'in Uzunyol'da (Ledra Street) bir tatlıcı dükkanı vardı, dayım Ahmet'le çok ahbaptı... Dayım Ahmet Altıparmak İstanbul'a gitmiş, orada baklavanın nasıl yapıldığını öğrenmişti. Dayım İstanbul'dan döndükten sonra Hambis'le birlikte ikisinin baklava yapmayı denediklerini hatırlıyorum... Birlikte baklava yapmaya çalışırlardı... Ta ki tam istedikleri kıvamı tutturuncaya kadar pek çok kez baklava hamuru açtıklarını hatırlıyorum... Hambis'in kızı o günlerde moda olan İskoç etek giyerdi, eteğin önünde, yan tarafına doğru da bir ganca iğne olurdu... O günlerde moda böyleydi... Hambis'in bu İskoç etekli küçük kızıyla sokakta oynadığımızı hatırlarım, sonraları o çatışma günlerinde kızının serseri bir kurşunla öldürüldüğünü duymuştuk... Buna çok üzülmüştüm... Yıllar sonra ailem, Hambis'in ailesini ziyaret ederek, komşuluk anılarını tazelemişlerdi.. Bay Hambis'in vefat ettiğini, artık hayatta olmadığını işittim... Kaymaklı'da Kıbrıslırum komşularımızla ilişkilerimiz çok iyiydi... Tek bir Kıbrıslırum kadın vardı komşularımız arasında, Kıbrıslıtürkler'i hiç sevmeyen ama onun dışındakilerle komşuluk ilişkilerimiz çok iyiydi..."
Kaymaklı'dan hatıralarını paylaşan Ahmet Hasan, tüm ömrünü barışçıl bir ada, eşitlik ve özgürlük için mücadelede geçirdi... Çocukluğunun bu acı hatıralarının duruşunu etkilemesine izin vermedi – geçmişle yüzleşmemiz, geçmişte neler yaşandığını öğrenmemiz, geçmişte neler yaşandığını iyice bilmemiz, barışçıl bir ada için mücadelemizi engellemiyor. Tam tersine, eğer geçmişte neler yaşandığını tam olarak bilmezsek, hiçbir zaman bu adada barışa giden doğru yolu bulamayabiliriz...
(*) Bu yazı 18.11.2011 tarihinde YENİDÜZEN gazetesinde yayımlanmıştır.
Αναμνήσεις ενός παιδιού από την Ομορφίτα…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Τηλ: 99 966518
Καθόμαστε στον κήπο μου δίπλα από τη λιμνούλα με τις χελώνες και απολαμβάνουμε ένα ήσυχο Κυριακάτικο απόγευμα… Ο καλός μας φίλος Ahmet Hasan αρχίζει να μου εξιστορεί τις πικρές και γλυκές ιστορίες της παιδικής του ηλικίας… Τον ξέρω για τουλάχιστον 30 χρόνια και ποτέ δεν μίλησε για την παιδική του ηλικία. Ίσως είναι η ησυχία της γειτονιάς που διακόπτεται μόνο από το φτερούγισμα των περιστεριών που τον ενθάρρυνε να μιλήσει… Όποιος και να είναι ο λόγος, αποφάσισε να μιλήσει… Ο Ahmet μου λέει την ιστορία του:
«Ήμουν μόλις πεντέμισι χρονών το Δεκέμβρη του 1963 και έπρεπε να φύγουμε από το σπίτι μας διότι υπήρχαν συγκρούσεις… Μας πέρασαν από ορισμένες τρύπες σε τοίχους σπιτιών και στο τέλος καταλήξαμε σε ένα δρόμο που ήταν αδιέξοδο… Στα γρήγορα βρήκαμε μια σκάλα και μας πέρασαν πάνω από τον τοίχο για να μαζευτούμε στο σπίτι του μουχτάρη του Kuchuk Kaymakli (Ομορφίτα)… Περίπου 700 Τουρκοκύπριοι συγκεντρώθηκαν στο σπίτι του μουχτάρη Yusuf…
Μετά ήρθαν ορισμένοι Ελληνοκύπριοι με όπλα… Καθόμασταν στα σκαλιά και ακούγαμε ότι επρόκειτο να μας ερευνήσουν… Ως παιδιά, σηκώσαμε τα χέρια μας, νομίζοντας ότι ήταν ένα παιγνίδι! Ότι θα έψαχναν τα σώματα μας για να δουν αν είχαμε κρύψει κάτι! Καθώς οι Ελληνοκύπριοι έκαναν τις έρευνες, θυμούμαι κάποιους άλλους Ελληνοκύπριους με όπλα, που κτυπούσαν τις πόρτες των σπιτιών με τα άρβυλα τους, τις έσπαζαν και ερευνούσαν…
Μετά μας έβαλαν σε μια σειρά και θυμούμαι ένα Τουρκοκύπριο ένστολο πυροσβέστη, τον Osman Hudaverdi, που προσπαθούσε να μας βάλει σε σειρά…
Η μητέρα μου είχε τις δύο μικρές μου αδελφές μαζί της και ο πατέρας μου είχε εμένα και τους μεγαλύτερους αδελφού μου… Μας ανάγκασαν να περπατήσουμε… Πρώτα πήγαμε στο Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis… Το πάτωμα ήταν βρεγμένο, αυτό το θυμούμαι καλά…
Ήταν στο Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis που ξέσπασε η κόλαση! Οι γυναίκες φώναζαν και έκλαιγαν αφού άρχισαν να επιλέγουν και να απομακρύνουν τους συζύγους τους… Θυμούμαι μια καμάρα κοντά στο εργοστάσιο όπου είχαν πάρει τέσσερεις ή πέντε Τουρκοκύπριους άντρες… Ποτέ δεν θα ξεχάσω το βλέμμα στα μάτια τους… Όλοι εκείνοι τους οποίους πήραν από το Εργοστάσιο Παγωτού Regis σήμερα είναι ακόμα «αγνοούμενοι»… Και ο Τουρκοκύπριος πυροσβέστης είναι «αγνοούμενος» από εκείνη τη μέρα…
Μετά έφεραν φορτηγά και λεωφορεία. Με έβαλαν σε ένα φορτηγό… Μας πήραν σε ένα σχολείο που ονομάζεται «Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου» και ενώ η μητέρα μου είχε τις μικρότερες αδελφές μου μαζί της, εγώ έμεινα με τον πατέρα μου και τους μεγαλύτερους αδελφούς μου… Μας κακομεταχειρίστηκαν πολύ σε αυτό το σχολείο…
Θυμούμαι ακόμα το δωμάτιο στο οποίο μας έβαλαν, στο δεύτερο όροφο… Έπρεπε να πάω στην τουαλέτα και ο πατέρας μου ήθελε να με πάρει – η τουαλέτα ήταν μόνο 5-6 μέτρα μακριά αλλά οι Ελληνοκύπριοι με τα όπλα δεν τον άφησαν να με πάρει στην τουαλέτα. Έτσι έκανα πάνω μου αφού δεν μπορούσαν να κρατηθώ άλλο και μετά, θυμούμαι τον πατέρα μου να προσπαθεί να με καθαρίσει…
Μας έδιναν πολύ λίγο φαγητό – μια λεπτή φέτα ψωμί με λίγες ελιές, καθόλου γάλα, τίποτα…
Βλέπαμε τις μπουλντόζες που δούλευαν έξω, άνοιγαν χαντάκια και οι Τουρκοκύπριοι στο Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου συνειδητοποίησαν ότι τα χαντάκια αυτά σκάβονταν για αυτούς, ότι θα τους σκότωναν και θα τους έθαβαν εκεί… Θυμούμαι Ελληνοκύπριους με όπλα που μας έβλεπαν και ανάμεσα τους ήταν ένας Ελληνοκύπριος ιερέας με γενειάδα και όπλο!
Τα πράγματα άλλαξαν δραστικά μετά από ορισμένες μέρες – όταν μεγάλωσα ανακάλυψα τον λόγο: Υπήρχε μια Τουρκοκύπρια γυναίκα που αφέθηκε ελεύθερη από τους 700 Τουρκοκύπριους αιχμαλώτους… Νομίζω ότι ο αριθμός των αιχμαλώτων ήταν περισσότερος από 700 αλλά άκουσα διάφορους αριθμούς – ας πούμε εκατοντάδες αιχμαλώτων αλλά μόνο μια Τουρκοκύπρια γυναίκα αφέθηκε ελεύθερη… Η γυναίκα αυτή είτε εργαζόταν στον Ερυθρό Σταυρό είτε ήταν παντρεμένη με κάποιο που εργαζόταν στον Ερυθρό Σταυρό… Πήγε και γνωστοποίησε την παρουσία των Τουρκοκυπρίων αιχμαλώτων και το μέρος στο οποίο κρατούνταν. Μια μέρα μετά την απελευθέρωση της, ακούσαμε Τουρκικά μαχητικά που έρχονταν και πετούσαν πάνω από το Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου – ένα σημάδι ότι ενημερώθηκαν για το που βρισκόμαστε…
Την επόμενη μέρα η ατμόσφαιρα στο Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου άλλαξε εντελώς: Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι με τα όπλα έφυγαν και αντικαταστήθηκαν από Έλληνες ένστολους στρατιώτες – πιθανόν στρατιώτες της ΕΛΔΥΚ – και για πρώτη φορά μας έδωσαν γάλα… Γάλα σε σκόνη, αλλά ήταν γάλα… Τα τρόφιμα ήταν πιο καλά και μας άφηναν να πάμε στην αυλή του σχολείου για να παίξουμε… Μετά ήρθαν Βρετανοί στρατιώτες για να μας πάρουν πίσω αλλά οι Τουρκοκύπριες γυναίκες εξεγέρθηκαν και δεν ήθελαν να πάνε διότι θα απομακρύνονταν μόνο οι γυναίκες και τα παιδιά από το σχολείο. Οι γυναίκες αρνήθηκαν να φύγουν εκτός αν έφευγαν με τους συζύγους τους… Αντιστάθηκαν και στο τέλος ολόκληρη η ομάδα των 700 περίπου Τουρκοκυπρίων εκκενώθηκε από εκεί που κρατούνταν αιχμάλωτοι.
Διάβασα κάπου ότι μια Ελληνοκύπρια γυναίκα, που ήταν κοντά στον Μακάριο, του τηλεφώνησε και του είπε για τα σχέδια να εκτελεστούν οι Τουρκοκύπριοι αιχμάλωτοι από το Καϊμακλί και ότι αυτός έστειλε αμέσως την ΕΛΔΥΚ για να το αποτρέψει. Δεν νομίζω ότι αυτό είναι αλήθεια – η αλήθεια είναι αυτή που σου είπα – η διαφορά έγινε από αυτή την γυναίκα που αφέθηκε ελεύθερη λόγω της σχέσης της με τον Ερυθρό Σταυρό. Και μόνο μετά που πέταξαν τα Τουρκικά μαχητικά πάνω από το Γυμνάσιο Κύκκου ήρθε η ΕΛΔΥΚ… Για την ιστορία, θα πρέπει να το γράψεις αυτό προκειμένου να διορθωθεί και να αντικατοπτρίζει αυτό που συνέβη στην πραγματικότητα...
Μας πήραν στον Τουρκικό τομέα της Λευκωσίας και αρχίζαμε να ζούμε στην περιοχή Tekke Bahchesi και πολύ σύντομα μετά, ο πατέρας μου καλέστηκε για να πάει στον Άγιο Βασίλειο (Ayvasil – Turkeli) για να βοηθήσει να ανοιχτεί ένας μαζικός τάφος όπου είχαν θαφτεί πάνω από 21 Τουρκοκύπριοι. Εργαζόταν στο άνοιγμα του μαζικού τάφου και είδε την μικρή Ayshe, που δεν ήταν περισσότερο από 10 χρονών, με τα χέρια της δεμένα και με τρύπες από σφαίρες… Αυτό το μικρό κορίτσι ήταν μια συγγενής και θυμούμαι τον πατέρα μου να έρχεται στο σπίτι με μια βαθιά θλίψη και να λέει στην μητέρα μου ότι βρήκε την Ayshe στο μαζικό τάφο, ανάμεσα σε άλλου Τουρκοκύπριους που είχαν σκοτωθεί και θαφτεί εκεί… Μετά από ακριβώς 40 μέρες ο πατέρας μου έγινε «διαβητικός» - σίγουρα το σώμα του είχε τάση για διαβήτη αλλά μετά από ένα τόσο μεγάλο τραύμα και τόση μεγάλη θλίψη, ο διαβήτης εκδηλώθηκε… Περάσαμε λίγο καιρό στην περιοχή Tekke Bahchesi και μετά μας έστειλαν στο Δημοτικό Σχολείο Ataturk όπου ζήσαμε για δύο ή τρία χρόνια πρόσφυγες… Αργότερα, πήγαμε στο σπίτι του θείου μου και προσπαθήσαμε να συνέλθουμε…
Θυμούμαι άλλη μια θλιβερή ιστορία από την παιδική μου ηλικία, την κόρη του Χαμπή να σκοτώνεται από μια αδέσποτη σφαίρα… Ο Χαμπής ήταν ο γείτονας μας, όπως η Ελενού και η Χρυσταλλού και η Φωτού… Η κόρη του Χαμπή ήταν περίπου έξι χρονών και παίζαμε στο δρόμο… Ο Χαμπής είχε ζαχαροπλαστείο στην οδό Λήδρας και ο θείος μου Ahmet ταξίδευε στην Ίνσταπουλ και επέστρεφε έχοντας μάθει πώς να φτιάχνει μπακλαβά. Θυμούμαι τον Χαμπή και το θείο μου να προσπαθούν μαζί να φτιάξουν μπακλαβά, να μαθαίνουν μαζί, να προσπαθούν πολλές φορές μέχρι να πετύχουν τον μπακλαβά… Η κόρη του Χαμπή φορούσε μια καρό Σκοτσέζικη φούστα με μια παραμάνα στη μια πλευρά, μια πολύ μεγάλη παραμάνα διότι εκείνο τον καιρό ήταν στη μόδα… Θυμούμαι έπαιζα μαζί της στο δρόμο και αργότερα μάθαμε ότι πυροβολήθηκε και σκοτώθηκε εκείνες τις μέρες των συγκρούσεων… Ένιωθα θλίψη που την έχασα έτσι και χρόνια μετά, τα αδέλφια μου πήγαν και επισκέφτηκαν την οικογένεια του Χαμπή και μοιράστηκαν τις αναμνήσεις της γειτονιάς… Άκουσα ότι ο κύριος Χαμπής έχει πεθάνει… Υπήρχε μόνο μια Ελληνοκύπρια γειτόνισσα στην οποία δεν άρεσαν οι Τουρκοκύπριοι και έτσι δεν συναναστρεφόμασταν μαζί της, αλλά η φιλία μας με τους άλλους γείτονες ήταν μια χαρά…»|
Ο Ahmet πέρασε όλη του τη ζωή προσπαθώντας να δημιουργήσει ένα δίκαιο, ειρηνικό νησί, ισότητα και ελευθερία… Δεν άφησε τις πικρές αναμνήσεις της παιδικής του ηλικίας να εμποδίσουν τη στάση του – στο κάτω-κάτω, το να αναγνωρίσουμε αυτά που έχουν συμβεί, το να ξέρουμε τι έχει συμβεί, δεν μας σταματά από το να εργαστούμε για ένα ειρηνικό νησί… Απεναντίας, αν δεν αναγνωρίσουμε και αρνούμαστε να ξέρουμε αυτά που συνέβηκαν, μπορεί να μην καταφέρουμε ποτέ να βρούμε το σωστό δρόμο που θα μας οδηγήσει στην ειρήνη σε αυτό το νησί…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 13th of November 2011, Sunday.
Painting by Rene Magritte...
Sunday, December 27, 2020
Η ιστορία του ερμαριού που περιμένει τους ιδιοκτήτες του…
Η ιστορία του ερμαριού που περιμένει τους ιδιοκτήτες του…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Τηλ: 99 966518
Ένας από τους υπέροχους μου Ελληνοκύπριους αναγνώστες, που πάντοτε με βοηθά πολύ στις έρευνες μου για τους «αγνοούμενους» και επίσης στέλνοντας μου ενθαρρυντικά και εμψυχωτικά μηνύματα για τα άρθρα μου, μια μέρα τις τελευταίες βδομάδες μου είχε στείλει το ακόλουθο μήνυμα:
«Αγαπητή Sevgul, είμαστε από το χωριό Κάμπος (όχι πολύ μακριά από το χωριό Αμπελικού). Το 1969 μετακομίσαμε στο Δίκωμο και γίναμε πρόσφυγες το 1974. Ο πατέρας μου ήταν αγρότης και αποφάσισε να πάει στον Άη Γιάννη το Νοέμβριο του 1975. Κάποια έπιπλα και άλλος εξοπλισμός βρίσκονταν ακόμα στο χωριό. Ένα από αυτά ήταν ένα ερμάρι που χρησιμοποιούσαμε στο σπίτι που ζούσαμε μέχρι το 1993. Ο πατέρας μου μου είπε ότι το βρήκε, όχι στο σπίτι που ζούσαμε, αλλά μέσα στο κυρίως χωριό. Δεν μπορούσε να θυμηθεί όταν τον ρώτησα (δεν ήμουν εκεί αφού ήμουν στο σχολείο στη Λευκωσία). Όταν φύγαμε από τον Άη Γιάννη πήραμε το ερμάρι μαζί μας και τώρα είναι διαλυμένο στο χωριό μας Κάμπος. Υποθέσαμε ότι αν το αφήναμε, κάποιοι άλλοι μπορούσαν να το έπαιρναν και το μέλλον του θα ήταν αμφίβολο (μπορούσε να πουληθεί για λεφτά). Στην πραγματικότητα κάναμε αίτηση στο Εθνογραφικό Μουσείο της Γεροσκήπου για κάποια πιθάρια που χρησιμοποιούσαμε και είναι εκεί.
Σημειώσαμε τα ονόματα που ήταν γραμμένα στο ξύλινο ερμάρι και ελπίζαμε ότι θα επέστρεφε στους ιδιοκτήτες του. Εκτός από τις αναμνήσεις, είναι φτιαγμένο από κέδρο (πολύ καλό ξύλο) και πεύκο και τα ανάγλυφα είναι πολύ καλά. Μπορεί να αποσυναρμολογηθεί. Είμαι σίγουρος ότι μπορεί να αναπαλαιωθεί και θα είναι έργο τέχνης. Αλλά πιο σημαντικές είναι οι αναμνήσεις που κουβαλά. Κατάφερα να βρω τους ιδιοκτήτες του σπιτιού που ζούσαμε στον Άη Γιάννη και πράγματι δεν είναι οι ιδιοκτήτες, όπως μου είπαν. Αν ξέχασα κάτι, θύμισε με. Θα χαρώ να επιστραφεί στους ιδιοκτήτες, μέσω των Ηνωμένων Εθνών ή άλλου οργανισμού. Καλή σου μέρα!»
Αυτός ο αγαπητός Ελληνοκύπριος φίλος μου έστειλε επίσης τις φωτογραφίες του παλιού ερμαριού και του εσωτερικού της πόρτας του όπου είχαν γραφτεί με μολύβι τα ονόματα των παιδιών που γεννήθηκαν τη δεκαετία του '40 και του '50 και άρχισα να ερευνώ για το ποιοι μπορεί να είναι οι ιδιοκτήτες… Τον παλιό καιρό οι άνθρωποι έγραφαν τα ονόματα των νεογέννητων τους και την ημερομηνία στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού… Αυτή ήταν η παράδοση… Στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού αυτού, μόλις που διέκρινα τα ονόματα «Selma», «Aysel», «Yildiray» και «Halil»…
Δημοσίευσα τις φωτογραφίες και την ιστορία του ερμαριού από το χωριό Άη Γιάννης στην Πάφο για να δω ποιος μπορεί να βοηθήσει…
Ο γιος μου επίσης είχε φίλους από τον Άη Γιάννη και επικοινώνησε μαζί τους και τους έστειλε το άρθρο μου για το ερμάρι…
Ένας από αυτούς, ο κύριος Djemal Dermush που είναι ο πρόεδρος του Συνδέσμου Πολιτισμού και Αλληλεγγύης Άη Γιάννη, επικοινώνησε με το γιο μου και του είπε ότι γνωρίζει τους ιδιοκτήτες…
Ο γιος μου μου τηλεφώνησε και μου είπε να επικοινωνήσω με τον κύριο Djemal και έτσι θα μπορούσαμε να βρούμε τους ιδιοκτήτες του ερμαριού…
Κατ' ακρίβεια, δεν ήταν από τον Άη Γιάννη, αλλά από τη Μαλούντα στην Πάφο και λόγω του σεισμού το 1953, μετακόμισαν στον Άη Γιάννη…
Οι ιδιοκτήτες του ερμαριού ήταν ο Halil Mustafa και η γυναίκα του Fatma Suleyman… Κατάφερα να επικοινωνήσω με την Aysel Halil Mustafa (Aysel Aksu) και μου είπε την ιστορία της οικογένειας της και του ερμαριού αυτού… Είπε ότι χάρηκε πάρα πολύ όταν άκουσε τα νέα για το ερμάρι και συγκινήθηκε πολύ «Τουλάχιστον θα παραμείνει ένα ερμάρι ως ανάμνηση από τη μητέρα μας» είπε…
Η Aysel Aksu είναι η κόρη του Halil Mustafa και της Fatma Suleyman… Ο κύριος Halil λεγόταν «Sinekchi Halil» που σημαίνει κάποιος που πολεμά τις μύγες και τα έντομα… Αυτό ήταν τότε το επάγγελμα του… Ήταν «Sinekchi» και στη Μαλούντα και στον Άη Γιάννη και αργότερα στη Ζώδια…
Η Aysel ήταν μια από επτά αδέλφια… Η μεγαλύτερη κόρη Selma είχε πεθάνει… Το δεύτερο παιδί ήταν ο Altan και μετά τρίτη ήταν η Aysel… Μετά ήταν ο Suleyman που τώρα ζει στη Λύση… Μετά ο Yildiray, η Sherife και η μικρότερη ήταν η Sevcan. Η κυρία Aysel ζει στη Μόρφου, μια αδελφή στην Πεντάγια και οι περισσότεροι στη Ζώδια…
Η οικογένεια κατ' ακρίβεια δεν ήταν από τον Άη Γιάννη αλλά από τη Μαλούντα στην Πάφο, αλλά μετά τον μεγάλο σεισμό το 1953, αναγκάστηκαν να μετοικήσουν από την Μαλούντα στον Άη Γιάννη…
«Ζούσαμε σε μια παράγκα και προσθέταμε δωμάτια» θυμάται… «Μετά αγοράσαμε γη και κτίσαμε ένα σπίτι… Παντρέψαμε την αδελφή μου και τον αδελφό μου στον Άη Γιάννη…»
Τη ρώτησα για το ερμάρι… Είχαν φέρει το ερμάρι μαζί τους από τη Μαλούντα στον Άη Γιάννη όταν είχαν μετοικήσει…
«Ήμουν παιδί τότε, δεν θυμούμαι ποιος έφτιαξε το ερμάρι αυτό, αλλά είναι τουλάχιστον 80 χρονών» μου λέει.
«Είχε πάνω του σκαλίσματα και είχε συρτάρια… Ο μακαρίτης πατέρας μου έγραφε τα ονόματα και τις ημερομηνίες γεννήσεως των παιδιών του στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού…
Στον Άη Γιάννη είχαμε κήπο, είχαμε περβόλια… Είχαμε ζώα, πρόβατα και κατσίκες… Κάποιοι Ελληνοκύπριοι ήρθαν και τα πήραν όλα… Τα πήραν όλα από την μάντρα και έφυγαν… Είχαμε μια «άκρια» (εργαλείο/μηχάνημα) που χρησιμοποιούσαμε για να φυτεύουμε τα χωράφια. Υπήρχε πετρέλαιο στο σπίτι… Υπήρχε ένα σπίτι γεμάτο σιτάρι… Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι ήρθαν την πρώτη μέρα που ξεκίνησε ο πόλεμος, πήραν την «άκρια», έφεραν ένα φορτηγό και φόρτωσαν όλο μας το σιτάρι… Σε ότι απέμεινε από το σιτάρι έριξαν πάνω πετρέλαιο και άναψαν φωτιά… Ευτυχώς ο πατέρας μου ήρθε έγκαιρα και έσβησε τη φωτιά μέσα στο σπίτι, έβαλε νερό πάνω στο σιτάρι και σταμάτησε τη φωτιά από το να επεκταθεί και η μητέρα μου μας έφτιαξε ψωμί με το σιτάρι που έμεινε…
Ο Άης Γιάννης ήταν Τουρκοκυπριακό χωριό, δεν ήταν μικτό χωριό… Βλέπεις, για παράδειγμα δεν μιλώ ελληνικά… Όμως η μητέρα μου μιλούσε ελληνικά διότι όλοι όσοι εργάζονταν ως εξολοθρευτές εντόμων συναντιούνταν στον ποταμό…
Ήρθαν τη μέρα του πολέμου, σκότωσαν κάποιους Τουρκοκύπριους χωριανούς, έβαλαν σάκους πάνω στο κεφάλι τους… Φοβούμασταν και τρέξαμε μακριά και μετά επιστρέψαμε αργότερα στο χωριό… Κάποιοι Τουρκοκύπριοι έφεραν ένα φορτηγό στο χωριό μας – νομίζω ίσως να ήταν από τα γύρω χωριά, όπως τη Σαλαμιού, την Αρμίνου… Έβαλαν το σιτάρι μας στο φορτηγό και έκαψαν το υπόλοιπο… Ο πατέρας μου κατάφερε να σβήσει τη φωτιά…
Υπήρχε αυτός ο θείος Djemil και μας φώναξε, «Ελάτε πίσω! Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι έφυγαν τώρα!» Και έτσι επιστρέψαμε στο χωριό μας…
Μείναμε στο χωριό για μερικούς μήνες – δεν θυμούμαι πόσο καιρό… Υπήρχαν επίσης οι Άγγλοι στρατιώτες, είχαν στρατοπεδεύσει εκεί και μας προστάτευαν… Κοιμόμασταν στις στέγες των σπιτιών για να προστατευτούμε… Και μετά σιγά σιγά φύγαμε κρυφά από τον Άη Γιάννη…
Φύγαμε με τα ρούχα που φορούσαμε και αυτά που φορούσαμε σκίστηκαν καθώς διαφεύγαμε από τα βουνά… Όταν διαφεύγαμε, δεν μπορούσαμε να πάρουμε οτιδήποτε μαζί μας, έτσι τα πάντα έμειναν εκεί…
Μετά διαφύγαμε από τον Άη Γιάννη και περπατήσαμε μέχρι το Παραμάλι… Καταφέραμε να προλάβουμε το τελευταίο αεροπλάνο που έφευγε από το Παραμάλι…
Όταν μας είδαν, κάποιοι άνθρωποι είπαν «Βρε παιδιά! Είσαστε τυχεροί! Καταφέρατε να προλάβετε το τελευταίο αεροπλάνο…» Μας έδωσαν ρούχα και τα πάντα αφού τα ρούχα μας είχαν σκιστεί στο δρόμο… Πήγαμε με αεροπλάνο στην Τουρκία και μετά στο βόρειο μέρος της Κύπρου.
Ο αδελφός μου ήταν αιχμάλωτος πολέμου και όταν απελευθερώθηκε είχε έρθει στη Ζώδια και βρήκε ένα σπίτι για μας… Ήρθαμε και εγκατασταθήκαμε σε εκείνο το σπίτι και για περίπου δύο μήνες μείναμε μόνοι… Ο πατέρας και η μητέρα μου είχαν μείνει στον Άη Γιάννη και δεν ήρθαν μέχρι να υπάρξει συμφωνία. Μετά υπήρξε συμφωνία και οι Βρετανοί τους πήραν στο βόρειο μέρος…
Στον Άη Γιάννη κάποιοι άνθρωποι είχαν πάει στα βουνά, κάποιοι είχαν περάσει στο βορρά με τη βοήθεια κάποιων Ελληνοκυπρίων.
Όταν άκουσα ότι το ερμάρι βρέθηκε από ένα Ελληνοκύπριο αναγνώστη σου και το κράτησε και θα μας το επέστρεφε, συγκινήθηκα πολύ… Ολόκληρη η οικογένεια συγκινήθηκε πολύ…
Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι πήραν τα πάντα από εμάς, τα ζώα μας, τη γη μας, τα αυτοκίνητα μας… Τουλάχιστον ένα ερμάρι παρέμεινε ως ανάμνηση από τη μητέρα μας, μόνο ένα ερμάρι…
Εύχομαι να μην συνέβαιναν όλα αυτά και μακάρι να μέναμε εκεί που ήμασταν…
Τα έχουμε δει όλα αυτά, είναι αρκετά, μακάρι τα παιδιά μας να μην δουν ποτέ τέτοια πράγματα…
Σε ευχαριστώ που φρόντισες το θέμα αυτό…»
Ευχαριστώ την κυρία Aysel που μοιράστηκε την ιστορία της μαζί μας… Και ευχαριστώ τον κύριο Djemal που μας βοήθησε να την βρούμε… Ευχαριστώ επίσης τον Ελληνοκύπριο φίλο μου που φύλαξε το ερμάρι με φροντίδα και που θα το επιστρέψει στην οικογένεια… Σημαίνει τόσα πολλά για αυτούς το να πάρουν πίσω το ερμάρι αυτό… Είναι σαν μηχανή του χρόνου που τους παίρνει πίσω πολλά χρόνια, στις αναμνήσεις του παρελθόντος…
Τώρα το μόνο θέμα που μένει είναι να πάρουμε το ερμάρι πίσω από τον Κάμπο στη Ζώδια… Και είμαι σίγουρη ότι με τη βοήθεια των αναγνωστών μου και από τις δύο πλευρές της διαχωριστικής γραμμής θα το καταφέρουμε και θα δώσουμε πίσω το ερμάρι στους ιδιοκτήτες του…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 27th of December 2020, Sunday. The article was published in YENIDUZEN newspaper on the 23rd of October 2020 in Turkish on my pages entitled "Cyprus: The Untold Stories" and the link to this article is as follows:
https://www.yeniduzen.com/bir-dolap-olsun-annemizden-hatira-kalsin-bize-16446yy.htm
Photos: The photos of the chest, mentioned in the article…
PS – After the publication of this article in POLITIS today, my reader who has the chest sent me the following note:
"Dear Sevgul, i am so glad!!! Thank you for your work! it's a miracle! I hope we soon manage to give the chest to the owners. I am also glad i learned about the story of it. I have two corrections: To the Folklore Museum of Yeroskipou we gave some large pots (pitharia). They have the name of the owner inscribed on their surface. The chest, we took with us in Kampos and kept it dismantled. These chests were dismantable. Second: The thiefs from Salamiou and nearby villages were Greek Cypriots. Others, from EOKA B were from Kato Platres – … team - everybody knows. I heard they killed at least one Turkish Cypriot…."
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Τηλ: 99 966518
Ένας από τους υπέροχους μου Ελληνοκύπριους αναγνώστες, που πάντοτε με βοηθά πολύ στις έρευνες μου για τους «αγνοούμενους» και επίσης στέλνοντας μου ενθαρρυντικά και εμψυχωτικά μηνύματα για τα άρθρα μου, μια μέρα τις τελευταίες βδομάδες μου είχε στείλει το ακόλουθο μήνυμα:
«Αγαπητή Sevgul, είμαστε από το χωριό Κάμπος (όχι πολύ μακριά από το χωριό Αμπελικού). Το 1969 μετακομίσαμε στο Δίκωμο και γίναμε πρόσφυγες το 1974. Ο πατέρας μου ήταν αγρότης και αποφάσισε να πάει στον Άη Γιάννη το Νοέμβριο του 1975. Κάποια έπιπλα και άλλος εξοπλισμός βρίσκονταν ακόμα στο χωριό. Ένα από αυτά ήταν ένα ερμάρι που χρησιμοποιούσαμε στο σπίτι που ζούσαμε μέχρι το 1993. Ο πατέρας μου μου είπε ότι το βρήκε, όχι στο σπίτι που ζούσαμε, αλλά μέσα στο κυρίως χωριό. Δεν μπορούσε να θυμηθεί όταν τον ρώτησα (δεν ήμουν εκεί αφού ήμουν στο σχολείο στη Λευκωσία). Όταν φύγαμε από τον Άη Γιάννη πήραμε το ερμάρι μαζί μας και τώρα είναι διαλυμένο στο χωριό μας Κάμπος. Υποθέσαμε ότι αν το αφήναμε, κάποιοι άλλοι μπορούσαν να το έπαιρναν και το μέλλον του θα ήταν αμφίβολο (μπορούσε να πουληθεί για λεφτά). Στην πραγματικότητα κάναμε αίτηση στο Εθνογραφικό Μουσείο της Γεροσκήπου για κάποια πιθάρια που χρησιμοποιούσαμε και είναι εκεί.
Σημειώσαμε τα ονόματα που ήταν γραμμένα στο ξύλινο ερμάρι και ελπίζαμε ότι θα επέστρεφε στους ιδιοκτήτες του. Εκτός από τις αναμνήσεις, είναι φτιαγμένο από κέδρο (πολύ καλό ξύλο) και πεύκο και τα ανάγλυφα είναι πολύ καλά. Μπορεί να αποσυναρμολογηθεί. Είμαι σίγουρος ότι μπορεί να αναπαλαιωθεί και θα είναι έργο τέχνης. Αλλά πιο σημαντικές είναι οι αναμνήσεις που κουβαλά. Κατάφερα να βρω τους ιδιοκτήτες του σπιτιού που ζούσαμε στον Άη Γιάννη και πράγματι δεν είναι οι ιδιοκτήτες, όπως μου είπαν. Αν ξέχασα κάτι, θύμισε με. Θα χαρώ να επιστραφεί στους ιδιοκτήτες, μέσω των Ηνωμένων Εθνών ή άλλου οργανισμού. Καλή σου μέρα!»
Αυτός ο αγαπητός Ελληνοκύπριος φίλος μου έστειλε επίσης τις φωτογραφίες του παλιού ερμαριού και του εσωτερικού της πόρτας του όπου είχαν γραφτεί με μολύβι τα ονόματα των παιδιών που γεννήθηκαν τη δεκαετία του '40 και του '50 και άρχισα να ερευνώ για το ποιοι μπορεί να είναι οι ιδιοκτήτες… Τον παλιό καιρό οι άνθρωποι έγραφαν τα ονόματα των νεογέννητων τους και την ημερομηνία στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού… Αυτή ήταν η παράδοση… Στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού αυτού, μόλις που διέκρινα τα ονόματα «Selma», «Aysel», «Yildiray» και «Halil»…
Δημοσίευσα τις φωτογραφίες και την ιστορία του ερμαριού από το χωριό Άη Γιάννης στην Πάφο για να δω ποιος μπορεί να βοηθήσει…
Ο γιος μου επίσης είχε φίλους από τον Άη Γιάννη και επικοινώνησε μαζί τους και τους έστειλε το άρθρο μου για το ερμάρι…
Ένας από αυτούς, ο κύριος Djemal Dermush που είναι ο πρόεδρος του Συνδέσμου Πολιτισμού και Αλληλεγγύης Άη Γιάννη, επικοινώνησε με το γιο μου και του είπε ότι γνωρίζει τους ιδιοκτήτες…
Ο γιος μου μου τηλεφώνησε και μου είπε να επικοινωνήσω με τον κύριο Djemal και έτσι θα μπορούσαμε να βρούμε τους ιδιοκτήτες του ερμαριού…
Κατ' ακρίβεια, δεν ήταν από τον Άη Γιάννη, αλλά από τη Μαλούντα στην Πάφο και λόγω του σεισμού το 1953, μετακόμισαν στον Άη Γιάννη…
Οι ιδιοκτήτες του ερμαριού ήταν ο Halil Mustafa και η γυναίκα του Fatma Suleyman… Κατάφερα να επικοινωνήσω με την Aysel Halil Mustafa (Aysel Aksu) και μου είπε την ιστορία της οικογένειας της και του ερμαριού αυτού… Είπε ότι χάρηκε πάρα πολύ όταν άκουσε τα νέα για το ερμάρι και συγκινήθηκε πολύ «Τουλάχιστον θα παραμείνει ένα ερμάρι ως ανάμνηση από τη μητέρα μας» είπε…
Η Aysel Aksu είναι η κόρη του Halil Mustafa και της Fatma Suleyman… Ο κύριος Halil λεγόταν «Sinekchi Halil» που σημαίνει κάποιος που πολεμά τις μύγες και τα έντομα… Αυτό ήταν τότε το επάγγελμα του… Ήταν «Sinekchi» και στη Μαλούντα και στον Άη Γιάννη και αργότερα στη Ζώδια…
Η Aysel ήταν μια από επτά αδέλφια… Η μεγαλύτερη κόρη Selma είχε πεθάνει… Το δεύτερο παιδί ήταν ο Altan και μετά τρίτη ήταν η Aysel… Μετά ήταν ο Suleyman που τώρα ζει στη Λύση… Μετά ο Yildiray, η Sherife και η μικρότερη ήταν η Sevcan. Η κυρία Aysel ζει στη Μόρφου, μια αδελφή στην Πεντάγια και οι περισσότεροι στη Ζώδια…
Η οικογένεια κατ' ακρίβεια δεν ήταν από τον Άη Γιάννη αλλά από τη Μαλούντα στην Πάφο, αλλά μετά τον μεγάλο σεισμό το 1953, αναγκάστηκαν να μετοικήσουν από την Μαλούντα στον Άη Γιάννη…
«Ζούσαμε σε μια παράγκα και προσθέταμε δωμάτια» θυμάται… «Μετά αγοράσαμε γη και κτίσαμε ένα σπίτι… Παντρέψαμε την αδελφή μου και τον αδελφό μου στον Άη Γιάννη…»
Τη ρώτησα για το ερμάρι… Είχαν φέρει το ερμάρι μαζί τους από τη Μαλούντα στον Άη Γιάννη όταν είχαν μετοικήσει…
«Ήμουν παιδί τότε, δεν θυμούμαι ποιος έφτιαξε το ερμάρι αυτό, αλλά είναι τουλάχιστον 80 χρονών» μου λέει.
«Είχε πάνω του σκαλίσματα και είχε συρτάρια… Ο μακαρίτης πατέρας μου έγραφε τα ονόματα και τις ημερομηνίες γεννήσεως των παιδιών του στο εσωτερικό της πόρτας του ερμαριού…
Στον Άη Γιάννη είχαμε κήπο, είχαμε περβόλια… Είχαμε ζώα, πρόβατα και κατσίκες… Κάποιοι Ελληνοκύπριοι ήρθαν και τα πήραν όλα… Τα πήραν όλα από την μάντρα και έφυγαν… Είχαμε μια «άκρια» (εργαλείο/μηχάνημα) που χρησιμοποιούσαμε για να φυτεύουμε τα χωράφια. Υπήρχε πετρέλαιο στο σπίτι… Υπήρχε ένα σπίτι γεμάτο σιτάρι… Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι ήρθαν την πρώτη μέρα που ξεκίνησε ο πόλεμος, πήραν την «άκρια», έφεραν ένα φορτηγό και φόρτωσαν όλο μας το σιτάρι… Σε ότι απέμεινε από το σιτάρι έριξαν πάνω πετρέλαιο και άναψαν φωτιά… Ευτυχώς ο πατέρας μου ήρθε έγκαιρα και έσβησε τη φωτιά μέσα στο σπίτι, έβαλε νερό πάνω στο σιτάρι και σταμάτησε τη φωτιά από το να επεκταθεί και η μητέρα μου μας έφτιαξε ψωμί με το σιτάρι που έμεινε…
Ο Άης Γιάννης ήταν Τουρκοκυπριακό χωριό, δεν ήταν μικτό χωριό… Βλέπεις, για παράδειγμα δεν μιλώ ελληνικά… Όμως η μητέρα μου μιλούσε ελληνικά διότι όλοι όσοι εργάζονταν ως εξολοθρευτές εντόμων συναντιούνταν στον ποταμό…
Ήρθαν τη μέρα του πολέμου, σκότωσαν κάποιους Τουρκοκύπριους χωριανούς, έβαλαν σάκους πάνω στο κεφάλι τους… Φοβούμασταν και τρέξαμε μακριά και μετά επιστρέψαμε αργότερα στο χωριό… Κάποιοι Τουρκοκύπριοι έφεραν ένα φορτηγό στο χωριό μας – νομίζω ίσως να ήταν από τα γύρω χωριά, όπως τη Σαλαμιού, την Αρμίνου… Έβαλαν το σιτάρι μας στο φορτηγό και έκαψαν το υπόλοιπο… Ο πατέρας μου κατάφερε να σβήσει τη φωτιά…
Υπήρχε αυτός ο θείος Djemil και μας φώναξε, «Ελάτε πίσω! Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι έφυγαν τώρα!» Και έτσι επιστρέψαμε στο χωριό μας…
Μείναμε στο χωριό για μερικούς μήνες – δεν θυμούμαι πόσο καιρό… Υπήρχαν επίσης οι Άγγλοι στρατιώτες, είχαν στρατοπεδεύσει εκεί και μας προστάτευαν… Κοιμόμασταν στις στέγες των σπιτιών για να προστατευτούμε… Και μετά σιγά σιγά φύγαμε κρυφά από τον Άη Γιάννη…
Φύγαμε με τα ρούχα που φορούσαμε και αυτά που φορούσαμε σκίστηκαν καθώς διαφεύγαμε από τα βουνά… Όταν διαφεύγαμε, δεν μπορούσαμε να πάρουμε οτιδήποτε μαζί μας, έτσι τα πάντα έμειναν εκεί…
Μετά διαφύγαμε από τον Άη Γιάννη και περπατήσαμε μέχρι το Παραμάλι… Καταφέραμε να προλάβουμε το τελευταίο αεροπλάνο που έφευγε από το Παραμάλι…
Όταν μας είδαν, κάποιοι άνθρωποι είπαν «Βρε παιδιά! Είσαστε τυχεροί! Καταφέρατε να προλάβετε το τελευταίο αεροπλάνο…» Μας έδωσαν ρούχα και τα πάντα αφού τα ρούχα μας είχαν σκιστεί στο δρόμο… Πήγαμε με αεροπλάνο στην Τουρκία και μετά στο βόρειο μέρος της Κύπρου.
Ο αδελφός μου ήταν αιχμάλωτος πολέμου και όταν απελευθερώθηκε είχε έρθει στη Ζώδια και βρήκε ένα σπίτι για μας… Ήρθαμε και εγκατασταθήκαμε σε εκείνο το σπίτι και για περίπου δύο μήνες μείναμε μόνοι… Ο πατέρας και η μητέρα μου είχαν μείνει στον Άη Γιάννη και δεν ήρθαν μέχρι να υπάρξει συμφωνία. Μετά υπήρξε συμφωνία και οι Βρετανοί τους πήραν στο βόρειο μέρος…
Στον Άη Γιάννη κάποιοι άνθρωποι είχαν πάει στα βουνά, κάποιοι είχαν περάσει στο βορρά με τη βοήθεια κάποιων Ελληνοκυπρίων.
Όταν άκουσα ότι το ερμάρι βρέθηκε από ένα Ελληνοκύπριο αναγνώστη σου και το κράτησε και θα μας το επέστρεφε, συγκινήθηκα πολύ… Ολόκληρη η οικογένεια συγκινήθηκε πολύ…
Οι Ελληνοκύπριοι πήραν τα πάντα από εμάς, τα ζώα μας, τη γη μας, τα αυτοκίνητα μας… Τουλάχιστον ένα ερμάρι παρέμεινε ως ανάμνηση από τη μητέρα μας, μόνο ένα ερμάρι…
Εύχομαι να μην συνέβαιναν όλα αυτά και μακάρι να μέναμε εκεί που ήμασταν…
Τα έχουμε δει όλα αυτά, είναι αρκετά, μακάρι τα παιδιά μας να μην δουν ποτέ τέτοια πράγματα…
Σε ευχαριστώ που φρόντισες το θέμα αυτό…»
Ευχαριστώ την κυρία Aysel που μοιράστηκε την ιστορία της μαζί μας… Και ευχαριστώ τον κύριο Djemal που μας βοήθησε να την βρούμε… Ευχαριστώ επίσης τον Ελληνοκύπριο φίλο μου που φύλαξε το ερμάρι με φροντίδα και που θα το επιστρέψει στην οικογένεια… Σημαίνει τόσα πολλά για αυτούς το να πάρουν πίσω το ερμάρι αυτό… Είναι σαν μηχανή του χρόνου που τους παίρνει πίσω πολλά χρόνια, στις αναμνήσεις του παρελθόντος…
Τώρα το μόνο θέμα που μένει είναι να πάρουμε το ερμάρι πίσω από τον Κάμπο στη Ζώδια… Και είμαι σίγουρη ότι με τη βοήθεια των αναγνωστών μου και από τις δύο πλευρές της διαχωριστικής γραμμής θα το καταφέρουμε και θα δώσουμε πίσω το ερμάρι στους ιδιοκτήτες του…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 27th of December 2020, Sunday. The article was published in YENIDUZEN newspaper on the 23rd of October 2020 in Turkish on my pages entitled "Cyprus: The Untold Stories" and the link to this article is as follows:
https://www.yeniduzen.com/bir-dolap-olsun-annemizden-hatira-kalsin-bize-16446yy.htm
Photos: The photos of the chest, mentioned in the article…
PS – After the publication of this article in POLITIS today, my reader who has the chest sent me the following note:
"Dear Sevgul, i am so glad!!! Thank you for your work! it's a miracle! I hope we soon manage to give the chest to the owners. I am also glad i learned about the story of it. I have two corrections: To the Folklore Museum of Yeroskipou we gave some large pots (pitharia). They have the name of the owner inscribed on their surface. The chest, we took with us in Kampos and kept it dismantled. These chests were dismantable. Second: The thiefs from Salamiou and nearby villages were Greek Cypriots. Others, from EOKA B were from Kato Platres – … team - everybody knows. I heard they killed at least one Turkish Cypriot…."
The story of the chest waiting for its owners…
The story of the chest waiting for its owners…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Tel: 99 966518
One of my wonderful Greek Cypriot readers who always helps me a lot in my investigations about "missing persons", as well as always sending me encouraging and empowering messages about my articles, one day in the last weeks had sent me the following message:
"Dear Sevgul, we come from Kampos village (not far from Ambelikou). In 1969 we moved in Dikomo and became refugees in 1974. My father was a farmer and decided to go in Ay Yianni, in November 1975. Some furniture and other equipment were still in the village. One of them was this chest which we used in the house we lived, until 1993. My father told me that he found it not in the house we lived, but within the main village. He could not remember when I asked him (I was not present as I was at school in Lefkosia). When we left Ay Yianni we took the chest with us and it is now dismantled in Kampos, our village. We supposed that if we left it, some others might take it and its future would be doubtful (it could be sold for money). Actually, some pots (pitharia) we used, we applied to give to the Ethnographic Museum of Yeroskipou and they are there.
We noted the names on the wooden chest and hoped it returned back to the owners. Apart from the memories it is made of cedar (very good wood) and pine and the sculpture (anaglyfa) are very good. It is dismantlable. I am sure it can be renovated and will be a work of art. But most important, are the memories it carries. I manged to find the owners of the house we lived in Ay Yianni and indeed they are not the owners, as they told me. If I forgot anything, please remind me. I will be happy if it returns to the owners, through UN or other organization. Good day!"
This dear Greek Cypriot friend would also send me the photographs of the old chest and the inside of the door where names of kids who were born in the 1940s and 1950s had been written with a pencil and I would set out investigating about who the owners might be… In the old days, people would write the names of their newborns and the date inside the chest door… That had been a tradition… And inside the door of this chest, I could barely make out the names "Selma", "Aysel", "Yildiray" and "Halil"…
I would publish the photos of the chest and the story of the chest from Ay Yianni village in Paphos to see who might help…
My son too had friends from Ay Yianni and he would contact them and send them my article about the chest…
One of them, Mr. Djemal Dermush who is the president of the Ay Yianni Culture and Solidarity Association would call my son and he would tell him that he knows the owners…
My son would call me and tell me to contact Mr. Djemal and that's how we would be able to find the owners of the chest…
In fact, they were not from Ay Yianni but Malounda in Paphos and due to the earthquake of 1953, they would emigrate to the Ay Yianni village…
The owners of the chest were Halil Mustafa and his wife Fatma Suleyman… I managed to contact Aysel Halil Mustafa (Aysel Aksu) and she told me the story of her family and this chest… She said she had been so happy to hear of this news about the chest and so touched, "At least a chest will remain as a memory from our mother" she said…
Aysel Aksu is the daughter of Halil Mustafa and Fatma Suleyman… Mr. Halil had been called "Sinekchi Halil" which means someone who fights against the flies… That was his profession at the time… He had been a "Sinekchi" both at Malounda, at Ay Yianni and later at Zodia…
Aysel was one of the seven brothers and sisters… The eldest daughter Selma had passed away… The second child was Altan and then the third, Aysel… Then there is Suleyman who lives in Lyssi now… Then Yildiray, Sherife and the smallest was Sevcan. Mrs. Aysel lives in Morphou, one sister in Pendaya and most of them in Zodia…
The family was actually not from Ay Yianni but from Malounda from Paphos but when there was a big earthquake in 1953, they had to emigrate from Malounda to Ay Yianni…
"We lived in a Baraka and we added rooms" she remembers… "Then we bought land and build a house… We got my sister and brother married in Ay Yianni…"
I ask her about the chest… They had brought the chest with them from Malounda to Ay Yianni when they emigrated…
"I was a child then, I don't remember who built this chest but it is at least 80 years old" she tells me.
"It had carvings on it and had drawers… My late father would write down the names and birthdates of his children inside the door of this chest…
In Ay Yianni, we had a garden, we had pervolia… We had animals, sheep and goats… Some Greek Cypriots came and took them all… They took them all from the mandra and left… We had an akria used for planting the fields. There was petrol in the house… There was a house full of wheat… The Greek Cypriots came on the first day when war started, they took away the akria, they brought a truck and loaded all our wheat… Whatever wheat remained, they put petrol over them and started a fire… Thank God my father came in time to put out the fire inside the house, he put water over the wheat and stopped the fire from spreading and from the remaining wheat my mother would make us bread…
Ay Yianni was a Turkish Cypriot village, it was not a mixed village… You see, I can't speak Greek for instance… But my mother spoke Greek because all those working as flymen used to meet in the potamos…
They came on the day of the war, they killed some Turkish Cypriot villagers, they put sacks over their heads… We were afraid and ran away and then returned to the village later… They brought a truck to our village, some Turkish Cypriots – I think maybe they were from the surrounding villages like Salamiou, Arminou… They put our wheat on the truck and burned the rest… My father could manage to put out the fire…
There was this Uncle Djemil and he called out to us, "Come back! The Greek Cypriots are gone now!" And so we came back to our village…
We remained in the village for a few months – I don't remember how long… There were also the English soldiers, they had set out a camp there and were protecting us… We would sleep on the roofs of the houses in order to protect ourselves… And then secretly we ran away from Ay Yianni slowly…
We ran away with what we had on us and what we had on us were torn apart while escaping from the mountains… When we were escaping, we could not take anything with us, so everything we had remained there…
Then we ran away from Ay Yianni and walked all the way to Paramali… We managed to reach the last plane leaving from Paramali…
When they saw us, some people said, "Vre children! You are lucky! You managed to catch the last plane…" They gave us clothes and everything since our clothes were torn on our way… We went by plane to Turkey and then to the northern part of Cyprus.
My brother had been a prisoner of war and when he got out, he had come to Zodia and found a house for us… We came and settled in that house and for about two months we stayed alone… My father and mother had remained at Ay Yianni village and until there was an agreement, they did not come. Then when there was an agreement, the British took them to the northern part…
In Ay Yianni, some people had gone on the mountains, some people had crossed to the north with help from some Greek Cypriots.
When I heard that the chest was found by one of your Greek Cypriot readers and kept and would be returned to us, I was very touched… The whole family was very touched…
Greek Cypriots took everything from us, our animals, our land, our cars… At least a chest should remain as a memory from our mother, only a chest…
I wish that all of these did not happen and I wish that we had remained where we were…
We have seen all this, it is enough, let our children never see such things…
I thank you for taking care of this issue…"
I thank Mrs. Aysel for sharing her story with us… And I thank Mr. Djemal for helping us find her… I also thank this Greek Cypriot friend of mine who kept the chest with care and who will return it to the family… It means so much to them to get this chest back… It is like a time machine that takes them back many years, to the memories of the past…
Now the only issue is to get the chest back from Kampos to Zodia… And I am sure that with the help of my readers from both sides of the partition line, we will manage that and give back the chest to the owners…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 27th of December 2020, Sunday. The article was published in YENIDUZEN newspaper on the 23rd of October 2020 in Turkish on my pages entitled "Cyprus: The Untold Stories" and the link to this article is as follows:
https://www.yeniduzen.com/bir-dolap-olsun-annemizden-hatira-kalsin-bize-16446yy.htm
Photos: The photos of the chest, mentioned in the article…
PS – After the publication of this article in POLITIS today, my reader who has the chest sent me the following note:
"Dear Sevgul, i am so glad!!! Thank you for your work! it's a miracle! I hope we soon manage to give the chest to the owners. I am also glad i learned about the story of it. I have two corrections: To the Folklore Museum of Yeroskipou we gave some large pots (pitharia). They have the name of the owner inscribed on their surface. The chest, we took with us in Kampos and kept it dismantled. These chests were dismantable. Second: The thiefs from Salamiou and nearby villages were Greek Cypriots. Others, from EOKA B were from Kato Platres – … team - everybody knows. I heard they killed at least one Turkish Cypriot…."
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
Tel: 99 966518
One of my wonderful Greek Cypriot readers who always helps me a lot in my investigations about "missing persons", as well as always sending me encouraging and empowering messages about my articles, one day in the last weeks had sent me the following message:
"Dear Sevgul, we come from Kampos village (not far from Ambelikou). In 1969 we moved in Dikomo and became refugees in 1974. My father was a farmer and decided to go in Ay Yianni, in November 1975. Some furniture and other equipment were still in the village. One of them was this chest which we used in the house we lived, until 1993. My father told me that he found it not in the house we lived, but within the main village. He could not remember when I asked him (I was not present as I was at school in Lefkosia). When we left Ay Yianni we took the chest with us and it is now dismantled in Kampos, our village. We supposed that if we left it, some others might take it and its future would be doubtful (it could be sold for money). Actually, some pots (pitharia) we used, we applied to give to the Ethnographic Museum of Yeroskipou and they are there.
We noted the names on the wooden chest and hoped it returned back to the owners. Apart from the memories it is made of cedar (very good wood) and pine and the sculpture (anaglyfa) are very good. It is dismantlable. I am sure it can be renovated and will be a work of art. But most important, are the memories it carries. I manged to find the owners of the house we lived in Ay Yianni and indeed they are not the owners, as they told me. If I forgot anything, please remind me. I will be happy if it returns to the owners, through UN or other organization. Good day!"
This dear Greek Cypriot friend would also send me the photographs of the old chest and the inside of the door where names of kids who were born in the 1940s and 1950s had been written with a pencil and I would set out investigating about who the owners might be… In the old days, people would write the names of their newborns and the date inside the chest door… That had been a tradition… And inside the door of this chest, I could barely make out the names "Selma", "Aysel", "Yildiray" and "Halil"…
I would publish the photos of the chest and the story of the chest from Ay Yianni village in Paphos to see who might help…
My son too had friends from Ay Yianni and he would contact them and send them my article about the chest…
One of them, Mr. Djemal Dermush who is the president of the Ay Yianni Culture and Solidarity Association would call my son and he would tell him that he knows the owners…
My son would call me and tell me to contact Mr. Djemal and that's how we would be able to find the owners of the chest…
In fact, they were not from Ay Yianni but Malounda in Paphos and due to the earthquake of 1953, they would emigrate to the Ay Yianni village…
The owners of the chest were Halil Mustafa and his wife Fatma Suleyman… I managed to contact Aysel Halil Mustafa (Aysel Aksu) and she told me the story of her family and this chest… She said she had been so happy to hear of this news about the chest and so touched, "At least a chest will remain as a memory from our mother" she said…
Aysel Aksu is the daughter of Halil Mustafa and Fatma Suleyman… Mr. Halil had been called "Sinekchi Halil" which means someone who fights against the flies… That was his profession at the time… He had been a "Sinekchi" both at Malounda, at Ay Yianni and later at Zodia…
Aysel was one of the seven brothers and sisters… The eldest daughter Selma had passed away… The second child was Altan and then the third, Aysel… Then there is Suleyman who lives in Lyssi now… Then Yildiray, Sherife and the smallest was Sevcan. Mrs. Aysel lives in Morphou, one sister in Pendaya and most of them in Zodia…
The family was actually not from Ay Yianni but from Malounda from Paphos but when there was a big earthquake in 1953, they had to emigrate from Malounda to Ay Yianni…
"We lived in a Baraka and we added rooms" she remembers… "Then we bought land and build a house… We got my sister and brother married in Ay Yianni…"
I ask her about the chest… They had brought the chest with them from Malounda to Ay Yianni when they emigrated…
"I was a child then, I don't remember who built this chest but it is at least 80 years old" she tells me.
"It had carvings on it and had drawers… My late father would write down the names and birthdates of his children inside the door of this chest…
In Ay Yianni, we had a garden, we had pervolia… We had animals, sheep and goats… Some Greek Cypriots came and took them all… They took them all from the mandra and left… We had an akria used for planting the fields. There was petrol in the house… There was a house full of wheat… The Greek Cypriots came on the first day when war started, they took away the akria, they brought a truck and loaded all our wheat… Whatever wheat remained, they put petrol over them and started a fire… Thank God my father came in time to put out the fire inside the house, he put water over the wheat and stopped the fire from spreading and from the remaining wheat my mother would make us bread…
Ay Yianni was a Turkish Cypriot village, it was not a mixed village… You see, I can't speak Greek for instance… But my mother spoke Greek because all those working as flymen used to meet in the potamos…
They came on the day of the war, they killed some Turkish Cypriot villagers, they put sacks over their heads… We were afraid and ran away and then returned to the village later… They brought a truck to our village, some Turkish Cypriots – I think maybe they were from the surrounding villages like Salamiou, Arminou… They put our wheat on the truck and burned the rest… My father could manage to put out the fire…
There was this Uncle Djemil and he called out to us, "Come back! The Greek Cypriots are gone now!" And so we came back to our village…
We remained in the village for a few months – I don't remember how long… There were also the English soldiers, they had set out a camp there and were protecting us… We would sleep on the roofs of the houses in order to protect ourselves… And then secretly we ran away from Ay Yianni slowly…
We ran away with what we had on us and what we had on us were torn apart while escaping from the mountains… When we were escaping, we could not take anything with us, so everything we had remained there…
Then we ran away from Ay Yianni and walked all the way to Paramali… We managed to reach the last plane leaving from Paramali…
When they saw us, some people said, "Vre children! You are lucky! You managed to catch the last plane…" They gave us clothes and everything since our clothes were torn on our way… We went by plane to Turkey and then to the northern part of Cyprus.
My brother had been a prisoner of war and when he got out, he had come to Zodia and found a house for us… We came and settled in that house and for about two months we stayed alone… My father and mother had remained at Ay Yianni village and until there was an agreement, they did not come. Then when there was an agreement, the British took them to the northern part…
In Ay Yianni, some people had gone on the mountains, some people had crossed to the north with help from some Greek Cypriots.
When I heard that the chest was found by one of your Greek Cypriot readers and kept and would be returned to us, I was very touched… The whole family was very touched…
Greek Cypriots took everything from us, our animals, our land, our cars… At least a chest should remain as a memory from our mother, only a chest…
I wish that all of these did not happen and I wish that we had remained where we were…
We have seen all this, it is enough, let our children never see such things…
I thank you for taking care of this issue…"
I thank Mrs. Aysel for sharing her story with us… And I thank Mr. Djemal for helping us find her… I also thank this Greek Cypriot friend of mine who kept the chest with care and who will return it to the family… It means so much to them to get this chest back… It is like a time machine that takes them back many years, to the memories of the past…
Now the only issue is to get the chest back from Kampos to Zodia… And I am sure that with the help of my readers from both sides of the partition line, we will manage that and give back the chest to the owners…
(*) Article published in POLITIS newspaper on the 27th of December 2020, Sunday. The article was published in YENIDUZEN newspaper on the 23rd of October 2020 in Turkish on my pages entitled "Cyprus: The Untold Stories" and the link to this article is as follows:
https://www.yeniduzen.com/bir-dolap-olsun-annemizden-hatira-kalsin-bize-16446yy.htm
Photos: The photos of the chest, mentioned in the article…
PS – After the publication of this article in POLITIS today, my reader who has the chest sent me the following note:
"Dear Sevgul, i am so glad!!! Thank you for your work! it's a miracle! I hope we soon manage to give the chest to the owners. I am also glad i learned about the story of it. I have two corrections: To the Folklore Museum of Yeroskipou we gave some large pots (pitharia). They have the name of the owner inscribed on their surface. The chest, we took with us in Kampos and kept it dismantled. These chests were dismantable. Second: The thiefs from Salamiou and nearby villages were Greek Cypriots. Others, from EOKA B were from Kato Platres – … team - everybody knows. I heard they killed at least one Turkish Cypriot…."
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