Heat and Unrest

With several consecutive nights of demonstrations outside the Presidential Palace behind them, police in Nicosia have spent today supervising the clearing of ornamental rocks from the big roundabout in front of the Palace gates. People here are angry. They are calling for the President's resignation as it becomes more and more evident that not only the National Guard was aware of and counselling the removal of the 2000 tonnes of explosives that took out the Navy base and the power station on Monday, but also the Ministers of Justice, Commerce, Defense, Foreign Affairs, and Finance – as well as two high ranking people from the President's office -- all of whom had surely submitted minutes of meetings and reports as to the seriousness of the situation.

But Mr Christofias has yet to offer an apology, or an explanation for the government's continued inaction. And he is sure to duck any responsibility (such is the nature of corruption and cronyism in a society as small and interrelated as ours)  – though he has promised 'A thorough investigation and full accountability.' He had a 'conversation' with the Attorney General the other day.. A chat, I imagine, in which the two discussed how the president might best be exculpated. Nothing like the criminal investigation that should be taking place.

Meanwhile more details are emerging as to the actual events. The base commander, realising the dangers posed by the poorly stored ammunition following some minor explosions of the detonators within the containers last week, organised an exercise that got all personell off-post. The officers, NCOs and conscripts were sleeping under canvas some distance away – and probably cursing their CO for the heat and inconvenience. When the fire broke out in the early hours of Monday morning, the commander orderd that the sentries leave their posts, and dismissing his own driver ('Where shall we go sir? How can we leave the base unguarded?' they asked. But 'Go to the others, go somewhere, just get the hell out of here!' he answered) went with his commander, a senior NCO, and the 19-year-old twin conscripts who were manning the base firefighting apparatus, to assist the fire crews in putting out the brush fire. The driver, on his way out of the gate after collecting something from his office was caught in the blast but survived. Of the base, nothing is left but a huge crater.

The commander had also had the presence of mind to send part of the fire crew to warn the power station, and to block the road to the arriving shift. A friend of Best Beloved's got to work there shortly after seven to find a scene reminiscent of a war zone.

'But if they knew that it was going to blow, why didn't the commanders leave too?' Alex asked last night. 'They could have saved themselves...'

'Because it was their job,' we answered. 'There was still the possibilty of putting out the fire, of saving the base and the power station – and as long as that possibilty existed, they had to go. Even knowing that they were probably not going to make it, trying was their duty. And knowing that the young brothers with them were probably going to die too, they still had to try. That's what it means to lead, to take responsibility – whatever the consequences.'

The last few days have been full of funerals.  S has been to three, including those of the twins:  'These are my friends, guys my age, guys who got drunk and joked, guys I had push-up competitions with... Another friend is lying in hospital with no eyes and half his brain gone.  We all feel bad: our officers are telling us that these guys were heroes -- maybe so, but they're still dead.' The funerals have been marked by anger, but also by dignity. And underlying the sadness and bitterness is a fear for the future: Cypriots were feeling fairly comfortable, despite the recession. Now, with 60% of our electrical generating power knocked out, with rolling power and water cuts affecting pretty much everyone, the economy is set to take a heavy blow.  Small businesses are losing money, people can't use the banks, the supermarkets are dark, hot, running on a skeleton staff.  Traffic lights stop working as the power once again shuts down... It will be a long road back.

Chilly Economy

I went past the Dole office (unemployment exchange, for those who don't speak British English) last week. Kay's Social Security was due, and the offices are in the same building. The parking lot was jammed, and a crowd of people spilled out of the office, onto the pavement, and down the street. Most were Pontic Greeks. Some were English or other foreigners, and a rather frightening number were Cypriot.

'Pontis' – from Georgia or Ukraine – who came to Cyprus when the collapsing Soviet Union allowed them to apply for Greek passports and their Greek passports gave them a right of residency here, are the backbone of our cheap labour force. They're legal, so without the immigration hazards of Syrians, and they usually speak passable Greek. The men work construction sites, the older women do agricultural labour, and the young women serve in shops and supermarkets. Their particular dialect, a mixture of Turkish and Russian – sometimes leaning one way, sometimes the other – is as often heard as Greek or English.

Despite our politicians' assurances that Cyprus will remain unscathed by the economic turmoil knocking the rest of the world for six, the signs point to our facing a grim period. Friends are out of work with no sign of jobs on the horizon, and everyone is talking of cutting back. With hotel bookings down forty percent for the summer – most of our tourists come from Britain and the UK is looking at 2 million-plus unemployed, few of whom are considering a vacation on Aphrodite's Isle – hotels are considering closing... And our other major industry, housing for the foreign market, is suffering because building a second home isn't high on anyone's agenda, either.

The hoteliers are screaming to the government: “Do something!” The government is considering its options, and the whole shower of them need a good shaking. The deteriorating situation in the tourism industry has been building for years – ever since the hoteliers decided to take the Get-Rich-Quick route of catering to mass budget tourism instead of building up a quality product that can compete with the lower prices of our neighbours the Greeks, Turks, Egyptians, and Croats.

A few months ago TUI and Thompson – the companies that bring the lion's share of tourists to Cyprus – had a conference with the hoteliers to suggest changes that might raise the number of bookings to Cyprus. They cited prices and conditions as two of the reasons that tourists were opting for the competition over us. Our costs are too high, our waiters too rude, our hotels too ugly and too dirty.

I'm not in the tourism industry, so maybe I'm talking through my hat. But if I were, I'd be scrambling to improve my product instead of expecting the government to bail me out. Maybe it's too late for that: Cypriots own the businesses, but few work in them any more. Staff are Romanian, Bulgarian, Ponti, or Sri Lankan. Lacking a connection to this island, how can they promote it as effectively as someone who knows and loves it as home? Budget holiday-makers are increasingly opting for all-inclusive deals – meaning that they breakfast, lunch, drink, snack, and dine in the resorts, and smaller businesses – tavernas, bars, and cafes – are feeling the loss of business. Pretty soon they'll start letting staff go. Closing, even.

Bizarrely, the government approved a plan last month to build fourteen new golf courses (we only have three at the moment) in Cyprus – with attendant villas and hotel facilities. The water crisis means that each course has to have a desalination plant. Things keep getting crazier – from what I've heard, fewer people are playing at the golf courses we already have, and the houses planned for those sites have stopped selling. Does any one smell a kickback?

Speaking of property sales, last week Best Beloved pulled the figures from the Cyprus Land Registry for 2007-2008. Those for Paphos and Agia Napa, Cyprus' other great ex-pat centre, showed an 80% reduction in transactions. Limassol, Larnaca, and Nicosia weighed in at 70% down. Figures to February 2009 show a 90% decrease for Paphos. That's why all the builders are standing in line at the Dole.

The Dole is not easy to get here. The length of time that someone can sign on is directly proportional to how long they have been paying in – and after about six months, even someone who has been paying in for more than a decade sees a sharp drop in benefits. Collecting unemployment benefit is also not usual for Cypriots. Despite all the cracks about how locals are lazy gossips and non-stop coffee drinkers, there is a strong work ethic here. Many locals work two -- even three -- jobs rather than sign on, and to see Cypriots in the Dole queue was a shock.

“How,” I asked Best Beloved the other night. “Is the government going to afford all these payments?”

“It's not,” he answered. “Paphos went from a population of 20,000 ten years ago to one of 70,000 today. A decade ago there was work for anyone who wanted it. Now it's drying up: I saw a mid-sized construction project today up at the hospital with six concrete mixers lining up ready to unload. Remember how even three years ago you'd see a building site with a frantic civil engineer screaming into a mobile phone trying to find his next load of concrete? That's all ending. People will start to leave soon: The English are going already, but can't sell their houses for love nor money, the Eastern Europeans will be next – better to be poor at home than in someone else's country, and a lot of the Pontis will be packing up as well. We're looking at some big changes.”

Some of the lorries and diggers for sale at the building site between the roundabouts. It used to be difficult to buy a lorry, and some of these are quite new. The sign in Greek reads 'Don't look for us, we'll find you!'