Baklava for Breakfast

To kick off our week, we headed into the Old City to film at a confectionary where the gentleman makes baklava.  It was my group's turn to film again and this time I (and I think the rest of my group as well) were determined to be more organized, efficient and share responsibility more evenly during the filming.

Sunday evening we had our preparatory meeting to discuss the best way to alternate the operation of equipment, taking of notes, etc.  We also took this time to make sure the equipment was ready to go (making sure batteries were charged, and the equipment was packed).  This higher level of preparation beforehand meant that, when we arrived Monday morning, we were ready to start filming far more quickly than we had been the first time.

The way we divvied up responsibilities also enabled Lance and Whit (our team leader and producer) to have freedom to move between cameras and audio, making sure that the shots were framed properly and that the audio was clear.  I, personally, feel like everything went so much more smoothly than the first film shoot and I think that also made editing easier.

I'm sure that part of the successful execution of the second shoot was the fact that we had worked with each other before, whereas the first shoot was our first time working as a team.  Added to that were the varying levels of familiarity with the cameras (which are Sony HDV cameras), which tends to make things more complicated initially.  But it's all part of the learning curve and a great experience that simulates a frequent real world scenario.

The confectionary we visited was run by a father and son and, as we have learned all too frequently on this trip, the family business will likely end when these gentlemen retire.  But the care that they put into making their baklava was amazingly apparent in the final product, which happens to be the best baklava I've ever tasted.

This may be because they take the time to apply the filo dough (which can be spelled phyllo or fillo as well) one thin sheet at a time.  According to one of the bakers, many people apply several sheets of filo dough at a time, but if you take care to apply them individually, the finished product will be flakier and lighter. When a sheet of baklava came out of the oven, the gentlemen let us experience their baklava by giving us generous portions.

It is the best breakfast I've had in Cyprus yet.

When we finished filming at the confectionary, my team headed back across the square to Mattheos' restaurant so that we could reshoot our interview with him (this time taking Constantia as our translator, so that Mattheos wouldn't have to try answering in English).  This second shoot of his interview turned out much better than the first; now all we have to do is edit the individual sound bytes we want.

Our professor, Dr. Legg, pointed out that we are experiencing the beginning of a cultural shift on this island and it's really sad to see.  Cyprus is an island with under 900,000 inhabitants and families earned wages and provided for themselves by means of a skill that was passed from generation to generation.  For some that skill is bread making, for others it is hand embroidering lace, making haloumi, or baking desserts.  Most of these skills were perfected in the small villages that Cyprus is comprised of, where there is very little (if any) commercial activity.  Where people leave their doors open and sit outside talking with everyone.

But their children want more.  These younger generations bide their time growing up on the island, dreaming of the day they can leave Cyprus for someplace bigger, somehow grander, tired of being imprisoned by the Mediterranean.

So these children don't take the time to learn the trades that have helped their families survive for generations.  Meaning that their family traditions will end with their parents.  Even if this older generation teaches these skills to someone else, it will somehow be diminished because the tradition has now left the family.  As if the family secret has finally been revealed or exploited.

How many times has this happened in our country's past? Being a child of the 80s, I entered this world at a time when many such traditions were already gone.  But being here in Cyprus now makes me cherish the traditions I know even more.

My grandmother's homemade applesauce.  My mother's homemade sour dough bread or hand sewn items.  Things that we've never really used to pay the bills, but traditions that have brought us closer as a family.

"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."

~ Pericles