The Secret Blog of an Immigrant

Cyprus Adventure: From Paphos to Larnaca

2013-03-04T15:20:00.000+02:00

I spent another month in my former home: Cyprus. Yes, it was sunny, and yes, I met my friends and saw places and I got nostalgic, after all I did spent 6 years of my life there. But it all started on the wrong foot. For start, I landed in Paphos; nothing special you'd might say, and it is if you do not plan to go to Larnaca on a Wednesday afternoon or in weekends, cause then you will have a problem.

You see, there is no direct connection to Larnaca. You can choose the shuttle bus from the airport to take you to Limassol, and from there the Larnaca airport shuttle bus will take you to Larnaca Airport, and from there find another bus into town, or you can chose to go to Paphos with a regional bus, take an intercity bus from there (if you can find one... or two connecting in Limassol), if they fit your schedule. For me, it was an adventure. Landing in Paphos on a Saturday evening at around 19:00 hrs was almost a condemnation to spending one night in the airport before proceeding to Larnaca the next morning. I was lucky, an acquaintance I have made during the flight offered me a ride to Limassol, and so I managed to get to the Larnaca Airport shuttle bus in useful time. but getting to my address in Larnaca proved to be almost as lenghty as my flight form Barcelona to Paphos (with a 3 hours stop in Milan - Bergamo), but much more nerve consuming.
Having lived here, I could say: "well, this is Cyprus", but landing in Cyprus came after having to use the Spanish and Italian transportation systems (which, themselves, are not perfect), which offers you transfer between airports and other transportation hubs more than 50 km away with a cost of under 10 euros, and a frequency of one bus (or train) every 20 minutes. Impressive, when compared with Larnaca or Paphos airports.
Soon, I realized why it is like this... by just connecting dots. Going out of the airport and realizing I just lost the bus that would get to Paphos in useful time to catch the bus to Limassol, and searching for options, i was approached by Taxi Helpdesk "official", who offered me two solutions:

50 euros to get in useful time in Paphos Town (compared with 1 euro fare for the bus) or
140 euros to my destination in Larnaca. (compared with a combined fare of 20 euros using the two shuttle buses of the connecting in Limassol, going out every 2 hours, or a combined fare of about 10 neuros using the intercity buses that have a pretty weird schedule, and do not run (or they are pretty scarce) in the evening, Wednesdays, or weekends)

For 140 euros you can rent a car for 3 days, and it will take you wherever you want, whenever you want.

Just like Cyprus Airways is littered with cases of nepotism and favoritism, everything else in Cyprus is governed by the same unwritten laws. When more buses were introduced from Larnaca Airport to connect it to the city, there was a "Taxi Drivers Strike". Does anyone remember cases when from Larnaca Airport people were taken to a ride to Ayia Napa at a cost of 170 cyprus pounds (on an non-requested sight-viewing route through the picturesque villages of Cyprus)? The very same guys organized a strike to protest an attempt to optimize transportation to and from the airport. Are there any honest taxi drivers in Cyprus? Of course they are. But, just to make sure, before any trip ask for an estimation.
I am not saying taxi drivers control everything (I am not an conspiracy theory kind of guy), but many arrangements are made (or, better said, not made) to cater to their "needs".
A transportation system that is not well thought of (intentionally or unintentionally) leaves room for freeloading and disappointment, and with that comes bad reputation, and with bad reputation comes the loss of visitors, and with that comes less revenue for the government. I wonder if the government has a strategy for this issue, cause having a hub for the two main airports in Limassol is definitely the wrong one, and makes no sense, when clearly Larnaca is the heart of it. It makes no sense to have 3 companies with intercity routes and all of them to give you a transfer time from Paphos Airport to Larnaca of more than 4 hours!!! Are these people blind? Another thing that makes no sense to me would be the unnecessary stop and bus change in Limassol, when a trip directly to end of the line with a stop in Limassol would optimize schedules, timings and costs. A single line connecting Paphos to Paralimni, with stations only in the main local public transport hubs makes even more sense to me. It would not only benefit the tourism, it will restore trust in the system, it will ease up traffic, it will take less burnt fuel to get from one town to another. A simple train system along the Highways would make even more sense, if you have the finance to do it... And the will to do it!
I get a lot of comments on how can a Romanian comment on a Cyprus thing? To that, I can only say that if one article puts salt on a wound and people act on it to make it better, it makes no difference my nationality.

Perpetual Immigrant

2012-09-12T00:55:00.002+03:00

Packing.

With a feeling that life will change completely, that I am leaving my protective shell and throwing myself into deeper waters without a floating jacket, excited and scared at the same time. I say: "Bring it on!" while my knees are shaking.

I am not going home (though, I believe going home would give me the same feelings), but to a place where incertitude rules. A new place to call a temporary home, new friends, new people, new customs, new life. I try not to think to much of what lays ahead of me.

Arriving

Spain, middle of the night. Changing from plane to bus and then to train... You find yourself in a lovely city that, somehow, reveals slowly its secrets: opening hours, public holidays, the general willingness to help out or offer information, poor accommodation (unless you are rich, and you can afford a room that can fit a proper bed and desk - unlike mine). It's terrifying!!! The mixture of pros and cons is so confusing that it feels like being under anesthetic.

Sants Station, Barcelona, Spain

Leaving behind

Every place I have been still has a small piece of my heart, and Cyprus makes no exception. It is more a thing of being adjusted than sheer beauty, but it is still has that little piece of my heart.

The most explosive "No Parking" sign - two gas cylinders, Larnaca, Cyprus

Stay healthy!

2012-06-04T09:37:00.000+03:00

It's always harder to live abroad than in your own country, especially if the language is different. It might help if you're in a country in which the second language is English, like the one I'm in. But it's not the language that will make your life hell sometimes...it's the people. Not the people you see on the streets, but those with which you interact when you need something. The doctors, the ones working in the public sector, anywhere you need some official documents etc. While for the locals these places will be like any other place, for immigrants it's the place to go when you feel the need to be insulted, talked down to or ignored.
Here's the setting: my wife was feeling some pain in her lower abdomen. I have medical insurance and she benefits from it, too. I decide to take her to the clinic to see what's wrong. The whole process after getting to the clinic is just something nobody should go through. Get up early at 6, be there before 7, get a number and wait. While the opening hours are from 7 am to 5 pm, the place to make an appointment opens at around 7:40. Morning coffee is very important to these people. After they open, everybody gets in line. But not in the order dictated by the number you got while walking in. Nooo! That would be too easy. They shove and push you to get in front. If you say something to them (in English) they just push you away mumbling something in their language. So, just put your head down, quietly waiting for your turn, whenever it may come. You get there after about 1 hour of waiting and after that it's time to go see the designated doctor. Outside the doctor's office, you wait. But not because there's a line of patients. Don't be naive. The reason for your added wait time is because the nice doctor didn't finish his/her coffee and gossip time. They will open at around 9 am. Get in the office in the end, but all they will do is feel the region in which you have pain and tell you that it may be this, but it can also be that, it's better you go to the general hospital because we can't be sure here. Total time : 3.5 hours. Results : 0.
Next step, the general hospital. Like any big hospital, the feeling you get when you walk in can be summed into one word: Chaos! The steps to take here are quite simple: information office > nurse where the doctor should be > 20-30 minutes of waiting while the nurse tries to get hold of the doctor > go to the office where the doctor should be > wait 20-30 minutes until the doctor comes > the doctor comes, wait another 10-15 minutes until he decides he can see you > the doctor sees you and sends you to the first aid room (emergency) because he needs tests done on you, but he can't be bothered to have one of his nurses (qualified to do those tests) do the tests instead. Total time : 1.5 hours. Results : 0
The last step is the emergency room. A place in which no person with a sensitive stomach should stay. While some of the cases present there are really an emergency (like broken legs, burn victims and people cut by accident) the rest shouldn't even be there. I'm talking about people that suffer from flu, stomach pain, indigestion etc. These people should be checked up by a doctor outside the emergency room. It's not even an emergency. That's why the notion of triage was invented... Of course, the people having these kind of pain and illnesses are suffering and they might disagree with me about the emergency part, but what I'm trying to say is that they should be treated outside the emergency room, leaving that place for the real emergencies. I've drifted from the point a little, but bear with me. We register there and wait. And wait. And wait. So much that we realised the people in the room changed 2 times and we still haven't gotten so much as a hello. I go and ask them if everything is ok and if we are going to be seen by someone soon. Then I saw something that pissed me off on the spot: our registration paper wasn't even in the same stack as the others. I kept looking to see what happens with our paper when the doctors were coming to pick up their patients....they were reading the names on the paper and they kept passing our paper along. Just because I wasn't "one of them". Haven't these people taken an oath to treat anyone regardless of their origin, social status, race? I guess not. After 3.5 hours of waiting, finally a nurse shows up and invites us inside the emergency room. Sits my wife on a bed, takes her blood pressure, her temperature and leaves. Not 15 minutes after I see that nurse dressed normally leaving the emergency room. Her shift was over. So? What now? Is somebody else coming to see my wife? Sure.....not! We waited another hour while hordes of other people come and go. Finally another nurse comes, takes an urine sample and goes to get the results. Comes back after 20 minutes and gives us the treatment. Total time : 5 hours. Result : job done.
So, after 10 hours spent running around and waiting, we get the job done. What I would like to know is, IF I was a local, would that time be less? My firm belief is that it would be less. By a whole lot. The moral of this is......don't get sick when you're abroad!

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité" on trial

2012-05-30T11:22:00.000+03:00

I come from Romania. Leaving my affection for that place aside, I have to understand that first things you associate with that beautiful corner of the world are : Gypsies, Transylvania, Dracula, Ceausescu, Housemaids, Beggars, Petty Crime and Corruption, widely spread corruption, melted in the administration with a thick layer of bureaucracy on top of everything, and encouraged (many times in the open) by whoever won the elections (it doesn't even matter from which political spectrum they come from). Some, they make me smile, but many scare me to death.
Gypsies, for example, are just like any other ethnic group in Europe, some integrated in society, some...not, some addicted to petty crime, some rich, some poor, some educated, some not so very nice... just like any other group of people. Xenophobic tendencies in us all made them representatives of a despicable way of life, by throwing, wrongfully, upon them all the guilt of being... different, of having crime in their culture. I bet, many of us don't know that many of their family names are associated with trades: Geambasu (traders of horses), Lautaru (musicians), Rudaru (gold workers, jewelers and wood workers), Fieraru (metal workers) and many more. Its very wrong to label them all as people of crime, and what is even worse (for me personally), that many times my nationality is associated with that education in the spirit of crime and begging. It is wrong also for Europe to point finger at Romania claiming that we are not doing enough to help them integrate, while Europe itself discriminates against them (best example of that is France, the place of "Liberté, égalité, fraternité"; They didn't even try to find viable solutions with long lasting effects, the first initiative was expulsion.)

Which brings me to the point I am trying to make: wherever I go, I wear those labels stamped on my forehead, in my ID; the only way to get them of is with deeds. Nobody gives me credit, based on my national identity (fair or not), the only credit I get lays in my deeds. I don't even ask any more, I got so used with it.

Rights in the EU

2012-05-23T11:10:00.002+03:00

Good morning, Immigrants!

Clearly the morning is not at all good and I would like to get a load of my chest. As any integrated member of society, I have need of this invention called a mobile phone. Sure, it isn't that I have just realised we have this invention at our disposal, but as my old phone broke, I decided to buy a new one, a "smart-phone". I set my sights on the new Sony Xperia S, with a retail price of 550 euro. Good! Now, let's get myself to the local phone network company to see what that advertisement with 250 euro off your phone if you get their monthly plan is. The whole idea was that it would have been helpful financially to get that discount.
Getting there, all my dreams have been shattered by this middle-aged, over-weight sales representative as the first thing she asked me was : "Are you a Cypriot?". Dumb-founded I reply: " What does that have to do with it?". It turns out that you can't apply to their monthly plan unless you are a Cypriot or have permanent residence in Cyprus (this means to have lived and worked continuously for 5 years in Cyprus).As I have been living and working continuously here for 3 years, clearly that doesn't apply for me yet. But, if I want to get that monthly plan I'd have to leave a deposit of 500 euro to them. What's the point in that? If I could afford the cost from the beginning, I wouldn't have needed the monthly plan. I could have just bought the damn phone!
Here's the problem: as a citizen of a member state of the UE, shouldn't I be entitled to the same rights as the citizens of the state in which I reside? Well, I do! But there is no competent entity to enforce these rights, nor to punish the ones that do not follow these rights. As a lowly human being, even if I complain to the Consumer Protection Agencies, my cries would have died out without being heard by anyone.
The benefits and rights provided by the UE are all just theories and dreams to be had, because in reality, you are the same as before it was formed. Just another immigrant with no rights only on paper...

FIRE!!!...

2012-04-04T16:40:00.000+03:00

Well, I was working!.. not very hard, not very focused, just enough to call it work, with a slight feeling of guilt for those money I would cash in at the end of the month. It was one of the first days of spring in Larnaca, and the sun was there, smiling at everybody, trying to reassure us that summer was on the way, after a long and freezing winter. It was midday, and the town paced itself to the lazy way of a Cypriot afternoon, ready for an afternoon nap. But, somewhere it was very different...

While enjoying the day, I get the first sign of fire: smell of burnt plastic... than, I see a column of smoke rising... and no alarm, no siren... what is going on?!... I wait for a minute, while trying to figure out where it's all happening, and its close, maybe a couple of hundred meters from my workplace. And still, no siren, no sound of fire engines rushing to the scene. What's happening?!... I decide to call, and dial 112 trusting someone else was faster than me, but it's better to make sure.

"-Alo! I would... " is all I get to say, before the voice of a man interrupts me almost angry at me for daring to dial the emergency number
"-Ne, re, xero... xero" (as in: "yes, mate, I know...") was the reply to an unspoken question

I tried to tell him that I want to report a fire, and he dismissed me very quickly, not even trying to figure out if I am talking about the same fire as he was. I had to insist in telling him at least the area of the incident. And, I ask myself, is this guy paid from the taxes that I pay? That thought was scared away by the sound of the fire engine rushing to the scene. They were coming... finally!

I shook my head in disbelief. You can explain delays in procedures, you can say it is expensive to run an emergency service, or any other public utility company, but you cannot explain attitude! you cannot explain failure to appropriately answer an emergency call! A life, or someone's life savings might depend on that call; it's almost as if I see the power plant explosion all over again, and it's this sort of complacent and relaxed approach, together with a spark, that makes disaster happen. I would not forgive a dispatcher who rushes me, saying he already knows all about it, and sends the ambulance to a wrong address, while a member of my family or a loved one dies. I would not forgive a job so poorly done! Would you?

Summertime....

2012-03-10T12:02:00.001+02:00

The sun fails to shine! And even when it does, it has teeth, caresses my need of warmth with a cold smile... I'm here, but not here, it seems to say...

It was a long winter in Cyprus, long and terrifyingly cold, and not only so because of the weather. The effects of the weather can be felt only outside, and we don't live outside. I, personally felt cold and uncomfortable the whole winter. I thought it was just me, but when I asked around, everybody felt the same and nobody had cure for the chronic chill. Why was that?

Hmm... got me thinking! People live in worse conditions, and I don't hear them complain; I come from Romania, a country with both proper Winter and Summer, and I didn't feel like that before! What was so special here that made me shake everyday, keep me so cold I couldn't even use the computer at times (that's how cold I would feel sometimes). Air condition unit, clothes, hot tea, winter shoes, nothing could cure the bone deep feeling of cold I had, apart from the occasional sunshine invading my bedroom. The air condition would make it better , but has to work continuously, and that would make the air inside so dry, my sinuses would explode of pain. The minute it stops, the temperature will race towards zero at an alarming pace and it would stop at around 7-8 ºC, exactly how much it is outside, making me go through 15ºC difference in half an hour.

The secret of this performance lies in the poor design of housing. Cheaper to build - better profits for the constructor! The outside walls of many buildings are 20 cm wide, and have no thermal insulation, making it from the start an energetically inefficient environment (which combined with the latest rise in the electricity prices, gives us a huge burden). On top of that, the wooden boxes housing the blinds are poorly constructed, giving gaps, and making a direct way of air communication with the outside. Sliding, single pane windows, that just rest in their track make it an even bigger problem. It's not one building like this, but a lot, even in the newest ones. they are made with no consideration for energetic efficiency, it doesn't matter if we talk about winter or summer. And electricity doesn't come cheap in Cyprus, especially now, with the biggest supplier blown up!

It would be simple, if done properly from the very beginning! Insulation is not hard to apply, windows (if designers and contractors think of it beforehand) can be thought of well, blinds can be removed or designed to be housed on an external box, doors properly sealed, floor made of wood instead of tiles, and that alone should bring down the electric bill by 30%, and remove the need of continuous use of the air conditioning unit, in both winter and summer. But it takes money to do so, not much, but it takes some...

I reckon, with an increase of less than 5% of the build cost (lets remember that in Cyprus, from the main contractor to the guy that actually does the work is a long list of subcontractors and "maestro's", that add each a certain percentage only for having their name added to the list of those milking the big cow, literally screwing up 2 types of people that should be very important to them: buyers (who's bill is becoming indecently big - guess, why?, and the actual worker (who gets paid 5 euro/hour, and most of the time he has no idea if the employer paid the contribution to the social insurance, or if he is getting paid on Friday evening, when he finshes at 7, after 12 hours of work, 5 days a week, and often with overtime forgotten by the "maestro"). But this is another topic I will take in a future article.

Sales Pitch

2012-03-08T16:19:00.003+02:00

One can do so much to bring an interested person to the point of making the sale happen! You just need a product and the will to do it. But I´m in Cyprus, and here, well, things get done differently...

I was called couple of days ago, by a insurance company (I won´t name it, it´s pointless, they are pretty much the same). Called, is one way of naming it, as his secretary called me from her mobile (I was thinking this must be a scam), told me what it's all about, and set up a meeting, in a coffee shop (not on the premises of the bank).

The day the meeting was to be held i thought i should better check this. And that I did! I called my contact person in the bank that owns the insurance company, and asked if that person really exists, and if that is a regular practice, to meet potential customers outside the office. The answer was... Yes, that person exists, and that practice seems to be ok. That was a bit shocking for me; so, i get called by the secretary from her personal phone, to arrange a meeting with a guy, on small financial matters, outside the perimeter of the bank.
I don't know much how people run an insurance business, but this had me thinking: How serious are these guys? I found out soon, as I met the guy, and boy, was it interesting!

From the moment we sat down, to the moment I broke off the meeting, the respected insurance agent managed not more than 50 words, organized in about 10 sentences, none of them relevant to the objective of the meeting. The most I could get from him was that he was offering insurance. When asked what type of insurance, he said he has all kinds, and than kept quiet. When asked how much I have to pay, he said it depends, and than kept quiet.

And it went on for 20 minutes!... 20 minutes of unilateral discussion, almost to the point of making it sound like an interrogation, and than i snapped, and just put it in his face that I will never buy anything from him, not when he looks like he's being forced to spend that time with me, not when his texting his girlfriend/wife/boyfriend/pet and make me lead a discussion that was supposed to ease my pocket of 70 euros, monthly! Do you see the irony?

I stopped it, it was insulting, and I don't even know why i went through the 20 minutes. My interest was there, I just needed the idea being channeled to my need, but i didn't get help. Maybe because I am an outsider (but in that case i cannot explain the fact that he had the meeting set up), or because he thought i didn't have the money (even so, the more potential customers you have, the bigger the chances to selling something), I will never know...

Corruption in Cyprus at all levels says former minister - Cyprus Property News

2012-02-22T10:57:00.000+02:00

THERE is a lot of corruption at various levels of public life, former finance minister Charilaos Stavrakis said, and the bad thing is, it is almost acceptable in Cypriot society.
“In dealing with public life for the first time, I clearly realised there is a lot of corruption at various levels,” Stavrakis said in his book Economy in Politics and Politics in the Economy, presented to the media last Friday.
The former minister said certain government departments wield great power and their “sometimes arbitrary “decisions concerning town-planning, health, taxation and other matters, “can create huge benefits or burdens to entrepreneurs and companies.”
“Many times I felt that these people’s main concern was to help certain businessmen instead of trying to defend the state’s interest,” the former minister said.
Stavrakis said he did not believe there was an issue of outright bribery but to maintain good relations with the crème de la crème of Cypriot entrepreneurs “was perhaps more important for some state officials.”
Some aimed at securing important positions in banks or other organisations after retirement from the public service, Stavrakis said.
“It would be interesting for one to count how many former ministry permanent secretaries or ministers or other officials, ended up – after retirement – serving on the boards of companies or in organisations they previously had a close relation with.”
The former minister said Cyprus is a small country and one can see that some entered politics poor and at some stage became very rich.
“What is bad is that this is almost acceptable to Cypriot society and reaction is very limited.”
Stavrakis did not offer any names “because I think many of these people are known.”
Concerning himself, Stavrakis said only once did someone try to approach him.
He was a Greek businessman who owned a very large company operating in the wider financial sector.
“The finance minister’s signature would have fetched him huge revenues and he called me repeatedly asking to meet alone,” at a secret location.
Stavrakis refused, and offered to see the businessman at the ministry in the presence of his associates.
“It is then that he used the characteristic phrase: ‘are you pulling my leg minister?” Stavrakis said.
The former minister acknowledged that his personal wealth was, strictly speaking, an important element.
“I cannot know how big the temptation would be for someone who might be in need of extra income,” he said.

Corruption in Cyprus at all levels says former minister - Cyprus Property News

Motivation

2011-11-01T16:24:00.000+02:00

   Just laying here in front of the screen, I try pick myself up, and find the right words. I know, this is not a contest, nor a life threatening situation, but the need to find motivation blooms in times of life navigation with no heading.
   Where to go from here, what to do? I can go anywhere, but a new place doesn't mean a new, bright, life. I can do anything, anything new, but in doing so, I cannot guarantee myself a solid base for an upper step in life. Even more, there is a risk of turning things to worse.

A new approach!
   A new approach to all the old things in me, around me, away from me, that could be an answer.An answer that all us are looking for, on how to better our life. How? If, you think you might find answer in my article, you're wrong! I am not a guru, I am just a, statistically speaking, part of you! And that small part of you urges you to search, to analyze, and to Improve. Yes, to improve, as we are never to old, or too young for it. Improvement offers you a chance to look at the old you, and say: "I couldn't have done that 3 months before!". Continuous improvement, offers you the chance to repeat that step, over and over again, and that is how you build Confidence. Improving and building confidence unveils a path that has continuation in setting a road map, and that is connected to Motivation. And when all this elements come together, just imagine what you can be!

No clouds over Larnaca; big grey clouds over Cyprus.

2011-07-14T11:14:00.000+03:00

Indeed, not even the smallest cloud over Larnaca! But, the storm was here, and what a dangerous one! It was a storm of men, not of God, a storm designed unknowingly by men, not by nature, of an incredible force, with an terrible ending: loss of life!
How did it come to this? Well, it is pretty clear it´s an almost criminal negligence! No one can explain how that huge amount of dangerous material could be allowed to sit in the open, exposed to all that weather extremes and human errors or limitations, around communities and sites of strategical importance to Cyprus, because there is no explanation other than a death wish. I am no expert in explosives, economics or politics, but i know that what explodes has to be isolated, away from what is important for you, deeply buried into the ground. What is even more scary is that it went on for three years, being like a kamikaze warrior with a headband logo: ¨!!!Accident waiting to happen!!!¨. Taking notice, writing memos, having meetings about it, does not solve a problem like this; when life is in danger, clear, objective minds are needed, that need to see the obvious and react in a responsible manner. Writing a memo, shouldn't have lasted more than one hour, and a meeting in Nicosia about it shouldn't need more than 3 hours (including the trip to get there and back), which should have amounted to maximum one day (I am being really patient when i say one day) before a responsible decision to safely store that material can be taken. Anything else means playing with your children's life! But it didn't happen, whether it was about money (biggest problem of our time), politics (which, represents access to money, the big money!), or simply negligence, and the countdown stopped at 05:50h Cyprus time. Those responsible were not affected, and they will never be, politically or personally. They will come in front of the camera, will tell you they will assess the situation, will take the necessary measures, will put their head down simulating shame and regret, and give their condolences to the families of the victims. A month later they will come again in front of the camera, and they will tell you everything is under control, and that situation is starting to come back to normal, they will bribe you with a sum of money and other incentives (your own money, paid in form of taxes, that should have been used to safely store the danger away), and in a year time they will ask for your vote! ...Smiling, by the book, just like their image counselor told them to!
On the street i heard a lot of rumors, one that it was a terrorist attack, another that it was a frustrated Romanian worker, and even that it is the America's fault.... "America's fault?!?!..." i asked in horror, "How?". the explanation given to me by a poor bloke on the street was that USA forced Cyprus to impound the ship, and than refused to deal with it, leaving this small island with the biggest problem of its time. The word of USA weighs a lot in UN, but if Cyprus wants to be a part of it, it has to assume the same principles that guides it, and assume part of the responsibilities that derive from it. I am very sure the Americans put pressure on Cyprus to impound the ship, and its cargo, but i am also sure they thought Cyprus authorities knew how to handle this situation, and, most important, knew how to store explosives! That was only a word on the street, out of the mouth of a simple man. Unfortunately, I don't think he was thinking with his own mind, he was thinking with the mind given to him by the environment he lived in (a society governed by the same kind of people that will avoid the responsibility -collective or individual- for what had happened in several days ago), where at fault is "the other guy"! We all are guilty, some for knowing, others for not knowing, some for not acting, and some for not acting energetic enough!
I conclude by launching a memory exercise: Let us all remember (wherever you are, Cyprus, Europe, Earth..), this event before we stamp the vote on our favorite candidate, because sometime we pay our voting mistakes with the life of our children!

Go out there and discover!

2011-06-09T15:14:00.000+03:00

I swim!
Being away is an experience that opens up the perspective. It gives you the possibility to do things that were not open to you before. Each case is different, but in every case there is something that has opened for you.
I swim, I take advantage of every free day to throw myself in the sea, and swim all the way to the personal limit of comfort. I'm not a very good swimmer, and I don't do it only to try and keep myself in shape, it is the ever moving hugeness of the sea that attracts me, with it's wave sparkling in the sun, and the chilling sensation that you are so small.... Out there, it is just me and the scare i get looking at the horizon. And it makes me feel so weak, and so powerful at the same time. I couldn't do that in Transylvania. The best i could hope for was a clean pool, or a swim in a lake or a river. but there were other things open to me there.
Each part of this planet has something to offer to you! I am not a guru, I am not a counselor or a psychiatrist, I am but a simple man, that says: Go out there and discover!

To be or not to be....

2011-06-07T22:22:00.000+03:00

I find myself walking the streets with no distinct objective. It is one way I manage to think, while walking. Think about myself, about my life, and trying to find a coherent follow up, that doesn't erode in a week.
I am alone! And I started loving my loneliness, with every day spent confined within the boundaries of my own garden of dreams. In this rocky island, I exist only as far as the maximum expansion of my own fence surrounding my beautiful garden.
Being a traveler made me like this? Perpetuating a sense of insecurity inside developed me into a never stopping runaway mad man. But what am i running away from?

Dear reader, maybe you can find some of this reflections inside you too. Whether you live in the place you were born, or thousand miles away from it, you make that place what it is for you, not the other way around! You make it holly, and you can make it feel empty; you have the power to clean it, build on it, paint it, grow on it... You have the power to control it! That power comes from your will to define the things around you, and not be defined by them!

Are you fully integrated in the society you're living in?

2011-05-25T12:00:00.000+03:00

Are you? Think twice! Or, better said, what does it mean to be fully integrated? Speak the language, adopt the local customs, habits, superstitions, curse like the locals, participate in politics, legalize your status? Another question can be: Do you want to be fully integrated?
I am what I am, and I don't want to change that! If I want to change something, it is not in that direction, but to become a better me, with a higher understanding of things and places. I believe that a better me would have no problem living in any society. And I explain this by saying that a wiser me would have the capacity to educate those around me to accept me as I am! Education, here lies the biggest problem, not only to the situation exposed in this article, but to many other problems in any society! Why do i say that? Well, recently, I had a dispute in a parking lot, with a middle aged guy, who, in any other circumstance would look like an ordinary middle class man. The first thing he said (actually, he was shouting) when he realized I am a foreigner, was: "call the police, these illegals are criminals! I will send you back to where you belong! Why did you come here, to steal from our houses, and steal our jobs?". And that came after i tried to calm the man, speaking nicely, with respect, and not responding to his physical provocation. How do you respond to that? Well, first, a complaint to police needed proof, and witnesses! i cannot chase people on the street asking them to testify for me, i didn't even have the presence to think of it. Then, i searched for organizations that deal with this kind of discrimination, and all i could find was organizations that deal with discrimination against gay people or women! I understand those communities have problems too, but what about those that have been in my situation, where can they find advice and help? They can find help in the future, and that only if those minds in charge, realize that the world is going in a new direction, that mobility in this world of today has reached unprecedented new heights, and the only way to make a society work together is to have a clear understanding of the phenomenon and have clear policies against these manifestations. In this ever changing environment, it will always be a source of tension, maybe even conflict, as well as a source of radical speeches for "Hitler Wannabes" to distract attention from other problems. And politicians should not miss out reading Karl Von Clausewitz , not to study war, but how to stay away from conflict within one culture or society, or between different ones.
Coming back to an earlier question, if I want to be integrated, i say... Yes, but not at the expense of my dignity, not at the expense of my identity!

I am asking you to ask yourselfs

2011-05-17T13:30:00.000+03:00

Yes, i am asking you, to ask yourself, how do you feel having just one day left in the land of your old life, knowing that tomorrow you will be in the land of your choice! If you know exactly how you feel, send me an e-mail, or post a comment with your feelings, maybe i will be able the recognize it in me from the rainbow of emotion testing my nerves now. I don't even know if i am happy or sad, and i don't know how to identify the feelings. But what i know is that good things wait for me in either direction.
The mechanics of breaking away are a mystery to me, even though i did it twice, by choice, but i can't help a thought of remorse that crawls in my mind like a chameleon, covering its tracks, disguising itself into what my mind wants to hear and feel in every given moment. This time, as always, feels like breaking away...
Don't mind my useless rant, and don't bother reading if you haven't been walking my shoes, you will understand nothing, these words are resonating only in the hearts of immigrants!
Best of luck, wherever you are, dear reader!
Paul

Playing with my own heart!

2011-05-16T21:08:00.000+03:00

Transilvania, here I am!
Back to land that fed me spiritually when I was young... It always is (coming back here) a mixed feeling, a growing happiness mixed with a terrible fear. A fear that many cannot comprehend, and are even mocking me for it, but what they don't know is that, despite the fact that i come from here, and i was happy, here, sometime ago, this place gave me no chance to raise myself above the ranks. But, enough with this matter for now, i will probably deal with it in a later posting. Today, it's about being home, the home of my memories and childhood, the roots of my transformation from dust to what I am today.
I am sure, everyone feels connected one way or another to that particular place where we were born, or were we grew. I even noticed that I never stopped calling this place home, even though I don't live here anymore. It could be impregnated in our blood and flesh, encrypted in our brain, from the times we took our first steps, said our first words, and, somehow, these places stay with us for the rest of our lifes.
I arrived in my town early in the morning, when the sun was struggling to penetrate a meeting of fluffy clouds, and the feeling was that I lived this before (If I think of it, all my time spent here felt like I did it all before, so familiar were this places still). the silence in the morning is unique and waking up feels like escaping the jaws of sleep rather than just waking up. The rain recites to me unknown texts, while looking outside my windows gives me the view of a discreetly moving painting

Successful in another country?

2011-04-11T14:04:00.000+03:00

   I have no recipe on how to be successful in a foreign country. If i had that, i would be on an yacht, sipping my rum & coke, on a permanent summer vacation. The truth is, I am just an average guy, on a permanent search for self improvement, not necessarily with the goal of getting rich.

   First time away from home was Kuwait. Now, that was an interesting experience! A friend of mine told me that before getting in Kuwait he thought he will get palm trees, sunshine, good food... while in Kuwait, he said he was still waiting for the palm trees. I got confused, the palm trees were there! Then, he said: 'i am still waiting for the real ones!" and he was right: the place was gorgeous, somehow, but fake. And still, i loved it! Being European in Kuwait was fantastic, opened a lot of doors.

   Now, i am in Cyprus. Before landing here, i thought it is a small paradise island. How wrong I was! From the creepy airport (Larnaca was operating the old airport back then, but now that has changed a lot), to shitty services offered, and the general picture of the city... I thought I am making a step back! And there was no way back for me, I didn't wanted to go home with the tail between my legs, and say I was wrong going away. And I stayed. I lived with a friend for 2 weeks, then for another 2 weeks I lived in a decommissioned house, and then i found a job... small one, just to get by, but i could start only a month later... the thought of sleeping on the beach ate away my courage, and in the old, decommissioned house, i couldn't stay anymore, the owner didn't allow me to. At that point, i had about 10 euros in my pocket, and those were given to me by a friend.

Welcome to a different World!

2011-04-10T15:21:00.000+03:00

How many of us are away from home?

I am among those who left the safety of my nest, to start over, and why not, to find adventure. Some did find it (in a good sense), i for one, did not... I dived in a world that i wasn't prepared for, a world that has been cruel to me, that shaped my life in unexpected ways. But it wasn't all wrong! Somehow, i managed to get by, and, yes, be successful, and by that i mean staying alive, and keeping myself sane.

I come from a place that many heard of, but never knew how it is, which is a shame. I come from a place cut from a pastoral time, and forcefully brought into this century, where you can still drink spring water, find mushrooms in the forest, and get lost in the immensity of an untouched landscape. I grew up eating cherries and apples from the orchards around my town, and probing the slopes on a plastic bag in the winter (that almost broke my ass and legs a few times, in the same trees that were offering me cherries in the summer). I come from Transilvania! Sounds scary, doesn't it? Well, it isn't! Even now, when i put my foot on that beloved piece of soil, i find, well... Peace. Whenever i go there, i stop, just stop everything for a minute, look around, and breathe in that air that fed me as a child, and i can feel the ground keeping me there, with a magnetic touch... and i become a stone, a part of it again, even if only for a moment. I can feel that piece of land being proud of having me stepping on those old paths, proud of having me back, even for a short time, being happy that I've remembered where i come from.

How far are we from home?
Before asking that question, we should ask ourselves, where is home for us, what home means to us. I am home, i live in someone's heart, and it means everything to me! everything else is... well, memory mixed with melancholy.

Paul