Tuesday: Meze Day!

Tuesday meant several things.

We were exactly one week away from departing Cyprus.  And it was time to film our Meze, the through-line of the documentary we were working on for the month of June.

Filming what we needed for the Meze footage was pretty much an all day event.  Earlier Monday afternoon, Dr. Legg took Whit, Kim and Lance (our executive producer and two producers) to the location of the Meze so that they could better determine what shots would be needed and the best way to achieve them.

On Tuesday, Dr. Legg took these three students back to the restaurant and then came back to the apartments to pick up Kendra and myself.  At every shoot up until this point (the bread bakery, the cheese maker, the dessert chef, and the butcher) two students were featured on camera.  So for each set of students, we had to film them leaving the Meze and getting into a car then getting out a car and walking back to the Meze.

Kendra and I were the first two students selected (we were on camera for the cheese process), so we came to the restaurant, walked in the door a few times, walked out of the door a few times, got into the car a few more times and got out of the car several more times.  Then we were finished with our portion for the moment.

Since Lance and Kim (the two producers) were also featured in different segments (the dessert chef and the butcher, respectively), Dr. Legg and Whit asked me to stay behind and help film the remaining pairs of students.  So we repeated the same process Kendra and I had enacted for each additional pair of students, occasionally altering the angle of the shots to provide some variation.  When we finished, we had a couple of hours remaining before we actually sat down to eat and film the Meze.

The only Meze I had experienced up until this point was the non-traditional Meze at Little Plates in Limassol several weeks earlier.  So I was excited to try a more traditional Cypriot Meze.  By this time I had become familiar with a large portion of what we were eating.  I had either tried it, in some form, myself or I had witnessed someone else eating it.

The only two courses I was not prepared for, mentally or physically, were the snails and the liver.

Don't get me wrong, I've had escargot and thoroughly enjoyed it.  But adding butter, garlic and a baguette could make almost anything taste good.  In Cyprus, they serve snails in the shell with just a watery tomato sauce for flavor.  You have to pull the snail out using a toothpick, so it's always a surprise as to how big the snail actually is compared to the shell size.  I had made my mind up to try anything I was given in Cyprus because you don't know you don't like something until you've tried it.

I don't like Cypriot snails.  But I managed to eat one.

The liver was a different story.  When it came to the table it looked like a really dark, dense meat.  It didn't look particularly fatty but it did look sort of rubbery.  Rubbery is not a texture I can handle very well.  But I was willing to try.

No. It didn't happen.  I actually had to spit the liver into a napkin because I was starting to gag and couldn't swallow it.

I've never cried from trying to eat something.  But the liver made me cry.  It was, hands down, the most disgusting thing I have ever attempted to consume. And I will never try it again.

Overall, though, the Meze was really delightful.  We had salad, tahini and tzatziki dipping sauces, mushrooms in commandaria wine (which I didn't particularly care for, but was able to eat one), kleftiko, sheftalia, stuffed vegetables, couscous, spinach, souvlaki, souvla, bread, and a sugar coated dessert pastry filled with some type of cheese (which wasn't particularly flavorful).

I'm definitely glad I got to experience a traditional Cypriot Meze, even if some of the tastes aren't so agreeable with me.

A Cypriot Graduation

As Monday rolled around, the need for rest was palpable throughout our apartments.  Ayia Napa had been an exciting weekend for many in our group, a chance to enjoy the night life that doesn't exist as much in Nicosia among people that spoke the same language.  The resilience of the young never ceases to astound me.  A large portion of students enjoyed the night life Friday night, after a long day of traveling and sight seing.  Then, on Saturday, they turned around and attended an all-night party on the beach that lasted until 9 AM.


I know that I had that kind of energy at one point.  Have I really aged that much?  There have been several instances during this trip that I have felt the age difference, almost painfully, between myself and the other students.  Many of them were born in 1990.  I was legitimately asked: "Aaron, what were the 90s like?"

Really??  Wow. Haha.

But even 21 year olds need rest and time to recuperate.  So the first part of Monday was relaxed with just a few people editing video footage throughout the early afternoon.

We had received an email from Laura early in June about a photography competition among the study abroad students.  The rules were simple, submit up to five pictures you have taken during your trip and the top three photos/photographers will be chosen by the study abroad team.  The prize was to be determined by them.


But with so many things happening on a daily basis, all of us forgot about the competition until Laura sent an email reminder that the competition ended Monday at 5 PM.  I suppose I have a competitive nature, I can admit that.  I like to win or, if I don't win, I like to at least know I have given it my all.

So I submitted my five photos.  I've never taken photography courses and I've never had faith in my picture taking abilities.  Being surrounded by students who have really nice, expensive cameras with removable and interchangeable lenses certainly didn't do anything to boost my self-confidence.  But what did I have to lose?  I'd be sharing my pictures and, at the very least, I wouldn't get any sort of reward for doing so.  So I really wouldn't be losing anything; I just wouldn't be gaining anything.

The winner of the photography competition would be announced at our graduation ceremony that same evening.

Yep, that's right, I graduated while in Cyprus.  A week and a day before we departed the country.

I almost wore my suit to the graduation ceremony and now I'm glad I hadn't.  It turned out to be much more of an informal event than I expected.  I knew there would be no cap and gown or much pomp and circumstance.  But I guess I thought there would be a little more respect, particularly self-respect from the students who had worked to earn a good grade, than there actually was.

The graduation was slated to begin at 6:30 PM and we were finished within 45 minutes.  Thanos said a few words, thanking us for not getting arrested and for being an enjoyable group to work with throughout the month of June.  Then they called our names and we received our certificates of completion for the time we've spent in Cyprus.  Finally, before dispersing, they announced three winners and two honorable mentions for the photography competition.


I won first place!!  Among students with fancy cameras and pictures that were artistically color corrected and enhanced, my picture of a monument at the Green Line in Nicosia won.  For winning, the top three photographers received a 20 euro voucher for the meal of our choice at a local tavern that the study abroad coordinators chose.


I called my picture "the language of war" because I believed that the name of the monument was "Warphabet."  It's a powerful monument in general, with the Greek words scrolling around, spiraling towards the center where they are disrupted violently by metal poles that poke through at angry angles.

Apparently I imagined the title.

It's actually called "Resolution" and was created in 1995 by a man named Theodoulos.  To the best of my understanding, it is a statement of resolution by Greek Cypriots to remain free in the face of the continued Turkish torment.  Still a powerful message and monument if you ask me.

In celebration of our graduation, we headed back to Presilio for dinner at 8:30.  At this point, my time in Cyprus felt as if it had officially come full circle.  Presilio was the restaurant we ate at on the first Sunday we were in town as a sort of "welcome to Cyprus" from the Dean of the University of Nicosia.  And here we were, this time saying our thanks and goodbyes.

This would be the last time the Tennessee group would see some of the other study abroad students who were heading to Greece and Italy the next morning.  It was the bittersweet revelation of newfound friendships that must part with the uncertainty that we would ever actually see each other in person again.

I can safely say that, while I did not become best friends with every study abroad student on the trip, there are a few that I am glad I met.  They are the handful that I know I will maintain some sort of contact with, even if I don't get to see them very often, if at all.

They are the footprints on the sandy memories of my brief time in Cyprus.

A Weekend Away, the Ayia Napa Way

The last weekend in June (and our second to last weekend in Cyprus) was spent in Ayia Napa.  Ayia Napa is a beach town that, before the Turkish occupation of Northern Cyprus (including the major port city of Famagusta) in 1974, was just a small fishing village and nothing more.  After Famagusta was evacuated and was no longer utilized as a port, Ayia Napa rapidly became a bustling city.

My professor refers to it as "the Myrtle Beach of Cyprus."

And that's an extremely accurate summation.  And we were in the heart of the Ocean Boulevard equivalent.

It was strange to go from an area of Cyprus where people spoke broken English (at best) to a location where the majority of society was not only English speaking, but actually from England. And Ireland. And Scotland.  Ayia Napa is a popular vacation destination for the British Isles because it is a much more affordable trip than, say, flying to the States.

Friday afternoon, however, before we got to Ayia Napa, we stopped in Larnaca to visit the Church of St. Lazarus and Hala Sultan Tekke (a very important Mosque in Islam).

Perhaps the single most important aspect of this Mosque is the fact that it is the burial site of the prophet Mohammed's Great Aunt.  I think, in American culture, we would tend to think "his Great Aunt? Why's that significant?"  But in Islam, her relationship to Mohammed elevates her to a status not unlike that of the Virgin Mary in Christianity.

I'm not sure if it's because she is buried at this site or not, but this Mosque was almost a complete 180 from the Mosque I visited on the Turkish side of Nicosia.  While both Mosques had minimal wall decor, the Mosque in Larnaca had many brilliantly colored rugs on the floor and stacked on windowsills.  There was a hat-tree overflowing with scarves for women to wear.  Even the tomb of Mohammed's Great Aunt was lavishly covered in rich materials.

This Mosque appeared to be a place of reverence, not just of ritual (which was the feeling I received while inside the Mosque in Nicosia).

The Church of St. Lazarus was also a place of reverence.  But, for me personally, it was a deeper sort of reverence than I have ever felt in any church to date.  Knowing that this church was named for the man that Jesus resurrected from the dead was dumbfounding and almost incomprehensible.  Knowing the significant role Lazarus played in bringing Christianity to Cyprus was overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

Seeing the skull of Lazarus and being that close to the remains of someone who knew Jesus personally still leaves me speechless.

In the catacombs of the church you are able to see Lazarus' tomb (from his second death, of course).  In the chapel, right in the middle, is a reliquary that displays Lazarus' skull.  While we were there, we saw individuals be blessed by a priest over the skull.

I think that this blessing was to heal some part of the individual that ails them.  The priest took a cotton ball, dipped it in an ointment, rubbed the soaked cotton swab on the glass covering the skull and then ran the cotton on the appropriate part of the individual's body while saying a prayer.  The cotton was then dropped into a plastic bag and handed to the individual, who kissed the priest's hand and departed.


After the church, a few of us wandered to a castle on the beach and then had lunch along the beachfront before boarding to bus to Ayia Napa.

Once we were settled into our.... inexpensive ... "hotel" (which was called The Green Bungalows but had no actual bungalows...), we walked to the beach.  The sand on this particular beach was excessively coarse and the rocks alternated between being jagged and slippery, making it difficult to reach a decent depth because you had to move so slowly.  After getting sun on the beach for a couple of hours, we headed back to the hotel to wash the salt off in the pool.


For dinner, several people wanted to try a restaurant called Valentino's, which is run by a Top Chef finalist.  Keeping with my English history obsession, I ordered the Richard the Lion-hearted, which was king prawns over pasta with a tomato sauce.  Allegedly a similar dish was served at the King's wedding in Cyprus and it was absolutely delicious.


Saturday a small group of us decided to eat lunch at the Bedrock Cafe.  Yep, that's right, I said Bedrock. As in The Flinstones.  It was utterly bizarre to see the life-sized statues of Fred, Barney, Betty, Wilma, Pebbles and Bam-Bam.  The menus had a Flinstones cartoon on every other page and the dishes had names to match the theme.  Why this restaurant is in Cyprus and not in America baffles me.  But one should definitely be opened State-side.


After lunch, Kendra, Emma, Chelsey, Rachel and I went to the Sea Caves and Cavo Greco with Dr. Legg.  The Sea Caves are a popular cliff jumping spot for Cypriots and the cliff stands between 35-40 feet high.

I jumped.

Four times.

It was the most exhilarating, adrenaline-rushing sensation I've ever had!  I would do it again in a heartbeat.  But I don't think I could cliff jump anywhere other than the Mediterranean.  I was only able to jump here because the water was so clear and I knew exactly what I was jumping into.  Not to mention the fact that I watched a dozen people jump ahead of me.

So, I'm sorry Mom, but I guess if all my friends decided to jump off a cliff I can no longer say that I wouldn't follow them.  And, to be completely honest, I was the instigator for our group.  I jumped first, alone. Then I convinced Rachel to jump with me, holding my hand because she was scared.  Then I got Chelsey to jump, twice. And, finally, Emma caved in and jumped as well.


After my appetite for adrenaline was somewhat satiated, we headed over to Cavo Greco which is a really high cliff overlooking a wide span of Cyprus.  Not to worry, there was no cliff jumping here because the only thing you would land on would be the jagged rocks at the bottom.

When we left Cavo Greco, we thought we were heading back to the hotel, but Dr. Legg had a few surprise stops in store for us.

After a short drive, we found ourselves at a rock bridge that we all wanted to have our picture taken on.  Unfortunately, there was a sign that prohibited crossing the bridge.  We tried to tell Dr. Legg that we wouldn't cross it, we would just go halfway, have our picture taken and then leave the way we got on.  But he wouldn't go for it.  Sad day.

Then we went to a small cove that Dr. Legg said he has taken past groups snorkeling in.  The area seemed perfect for, what else? Cliff jumping!!  So I jumped again!  This cliff was much, much shorter than the cliff at the Sea Caves, but tore my feet up three times as much because the rocks were ridiculously sharp.  And the water, which thoroughly shocked me, was frigid.  It probably has something to do with the fact that sunlight only reaches the water in the cove for a small portion of the day, despite it being sunny for so long during the days in Cyprus.

Surprisingly exhausted from all the adrenaline I used up, I wanted a nap when I got back to the hotel.  Instead, we headed back to the Bedrock Cafe for supper!  This time there was live music.  The Bedrock Cafe is truly an enigma.  Not only is it themed from an American cartoon from the 1980s, but they only play American country music.  Even the live musician specialized in country songs.  I just don't get it.... On the Greek side of Cyprus in a town populated by people from the British Isles, they love American country music.  Who knew???

For dessert we headed across the street to an ice cream parlor where I discovered that they had cafe ice cream!!  My elation over this discovery must not be underestimated.  I have looked for this ice cream since I visited Monaco in 1999.  Cafe ice cream is coffee flavored ice cream that actually has coffee beans in it.  It is, hands down, my favorite ice cream (even more than bluebell's banana pudding ice cream or cookie dough) and I have never  found it anywhere other than the one time I had it in Monaco. Yet I've never forgotten it.  And here it was in Ayia Napa, Cyprus.

We had to check out of our rooms by noon on Sunday but the bus wasn't heading back to Nicosia until 4 PM.  The idea was that this would give students more time to enjoy the beach or the pool or go sight seeing if they wanted.  To me it just seemed excessive and a bit of a nuisance.  Fortunately, Dr. Legg had driven his own car and offered a few of us a ride back to Nicosia at noon.  So I was happily napping before the rest of the group had even left Ayia Napa.

And that was fine by me :)

From Kleftiko to Greek Dancing

Thursday morning began bright and early with a heavy helping of meat.

Okay, so I guess this is kind of misleading.  I didn't eat meat for breakfast Thursday morning; rather, we spent the morning at a butcher shop filming the process involved in making kleftiko.

Kleftiko is the term used for a particular way of preparing meat in Cyprus.  Many moons ago, kleftiko was invented by Cypriots as a way to eat meat in a time when such an act was forbidden/illegal.  People would take their meat and cook it in an oven that was buried in the ground and then covered up.  This prevented the smell of cooking meat from escaping, which prevented the discovery of the meal.

You may have noticed that Kleftiko sounds like klepto (or maybe you didn't, I didn't at first), which makes sense because they kind of mean the same thing.  The Cypriots were basically stealing the meat because it was illegal and klepto means "to steal." Thus, the term kleftiko was born.


I have never seen so much raw meat or so many dead animals in my entire life.  Fortunately the butcher's shop was cold enough that there was no smell.  Unfortunately, the whole environment didn't seem to be very sanitary as men used their bare hands when chopping the meat and there were an incalculable number of flies flocking around various animal parts.

Sound appetizing?  Yeah, it made me lose my appetite too, which is probably why I'm not a butcher.

Making kleftiko though is a rather lengthy process between the preparation through the actual cooking.  First, terracotta pots (resembling slightly rounded flower pots with no hole in the bottom) are filled with a mixture of herbs and spices and then layered with lamb meat.  Then a certain amount of alcohol is added with some juice and more herbs and spices.  Once the pot is full, it is covered (these days with foil) and taken to the oven.

The gentleman we visited was making traditional kleftiko, but in addition to the lamb meat, he included a lamb's head and chopped up cow's tail to the pots.  The lamb's head and cow's tail are also a form of kleftiko, but when you order kleftiko in a restaurant you will only receive the lamb meat.  You have to specifically ask for the cow's tail or lamb's head. And apparently people do order it.

The oven that the kleftiko is cooked in is also traditionally Cypriot.  It looks like an earthen dome and the modernized version has a steel door.  These ovens get exceedingly hot prior to the kleftiko being cooked and, once the kleftiko is in the oven, the meat is cooked for eight hours before it is removed.

Observing the kleftiko process I learned several things: I could never be a butcher, I would never have the patience to make kleftiko and, while I do not like lamb, the flavor of kleftiko is actually quite good.

Later that evening, we had another group dinner where we watched my group's film of the baklava experience.  After that, Laura and Constantia were taking a group of students to eat a Meze at a tavern in the old city.  The Tennessee group was invited, even though we ate beforehand, to participate in Greek dancing there.

Naturally, I was curious to experience traditional Greek dancing.  So I went.

Sadly, there was only about ten minutes (of the three and a half hours we were there) that any dancing took place.  And we were the only ones dancing in this restaurant, which happened to jam packed with tables.  So, here we were, a group of 15 Americans, weaving our way in and out of the narrow spaces between tables and chairs, trying not to hit people or knock food off their tables while we danced to the live music.

While the dancing lasted for a much shorter time than I had hoped for, it was still a tremendous amount of fun.  And, for just a few minutes of my trip, as no one spoke and everyone just danced, I felt like a true Cypriot.

For those ten minutes, we were all speaking the same language.