The language that unites all Cypriots

DEPENDING which side of the divide you live on, Turkish and Greek can be pretty useful. Happily for most of us children of Empire, English is still widely understood. But there’s one language that unites all Cypriots: money talks.

Although generous with their hospitality, there’s a less appealing side to the Cypriot character when it comes to hard cash. The question of money, how to obtain it, preserve it and expand it, is approached with uncommon zeal.

This avid husbandry can take on the most peculiar forms. For example, the youth of our village are like most young Cypriots; loud but likeable. Little gangs pass our house most days, lads of seven or eight through to hulking teens with facial hair, on their way to the football pitch. Their oldfashioned desire to kick a ball around rather than do drugs or beat up old ladies is laudable.

The village senior team plays in one of the TRNC leagues, the second division, I think. Every fortnight in the season they have a home game on their surprisingly smart pitch. We are not talking Chelsea v Barcelona here, but you can’t fault their enthusiasm and on a sunny afternoon they can attract a crowd of a couple of hundred or so.

Now here’s the thing. To enter the ground and sit in the stand costs five lira. A few spectators do. But the majority of the villagers would rather park in a field on the other side and watch standing on the raised embankment there. To me it is incomprehensible that anyone would bother to save such a trifling sum, in the process depriving their local club which does such good work.

But when it comes to money, self-interest — and short-termism — triumphs every time. Offer most Cypriots a dollar today or a hundred next week and they will likely grab what’s in front of them.

No harm in that, you might say; we are all entitled to build a nest-egg and look after our interests. Sure, but there’s a degree of avarice at play here and the unhappy results can be seen all around us.

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