Nicosia Cyprus – North and South

Today, I finally phave a free day to visit the city. My hotel is very well located, only a fifteen minute walk to the border crossing from the Greek to the Turkish side of Cyprus.

It was a sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky, the cool breeze gently brushing my face, sun drenching my shoulders, causing me to remove my sweater and tie it around my waist.

First stop was the antiquities museum on the way towards the border. This last weekend, I taught the last workshop of my overseas tour. For two months, I have carried bottles and sacred stones from the Galilee gathered in anticipation of this workshop. My intention was to make shakers based upon the ancient findings in the Galilee. Cyprus and Galilee, sharing a common ancient culture, I expected to find rattles in the museum.

Lo and behold, I found one from the middle Bronze age. It is in the form of an owl, representing wisdom, and the Goddess Athena. On the other side of the large room housing ceramics from the Bronze age, were two round figures, similar in shape to the round rattles found in the Galilee. It was a spectacularly satisfying experience.

Looking for more information, I called the Antiquities Authority Director who agreed to meet with me. He verified that the owl is indeed, a shaker.

From the museum, I continued on towards the border. “I forgot my passport”, I silently remembered to myself. “If God wishes me to pass without my passport”, I will receive Divine guidance.” the voice of faith instructed.

I walked through the UN Buffer Zone, the ancient stone walls of the old city of Nicosia, draped on top with barbed wire, and on the other side two Turkish flags, one white with a red crescent and star, the other red, with a white crescent and star flew in the breeze. A man with cigarette in one hand, a small cup of Turkish coffee in the other, spoke to his companion, a woman whose head was beautifully draped in a white scarf with beige and brown flowers surrounding the edges.

They looked at me as I walked along the street. It seemed strange to me that a cafe would be situated just at the perimeter of the wall, a watchtower for those on the Turkish side to see how the “other half” lives.

The border crossing consisted of two watch houses and a small gate – looking similar to those gates one finds in a municipal parking lot. On the side of the was an opening for pedestrians. I walked right through. No one stopped me. No one asked for my papers. Two steps ahead, and I was fully into Turkish Cyprus – the Turkish street signs and bill boards made it difficult to be confused.

As I reached the end of the block, my phone rang. It was a friend who lives in the Turkish side of the island. I asked her if it is ok to pass without papers. She answered, “I would never do that”. As I remembered our detention at the crossing on my last trip to Cyprus, I decided to play it safe and walk back across. I have a meeting this evening, and did not want to take the chance of being late.

Thoughts of being stopped and asked for my papers came up. What if I don’t have anything to give them? Will they suspect me as a spy? I decided to let the voices of fear take a back seat to the clear decision to stay safe. I walked straight through. No one stopped me. No one asked for my papers. Not one policeman, and there were many there, even looked at me. It was if I were invisible.

I thought to myself, “I have really connected to my spirit if they cannot see me. I literally flew right by”. I felt light and free.

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