On the morning of Day 4, my roommate and I were struggling to figure out what the plan was going to be for our outfit selections of the day. While this sounds trivial, it was an important part of what we were expecting to encounter while away on our visit to Famagusta, which is a city located in the Turkish-occupied area of Cyprus . For context, Cyprus is a country unique in its separation between its northern and southern halves; in between the island is a border known as the Green Line that runs straight through the capital city of Nicosia and situates Greek Cypriots in the South with Turkish Cypriots in the North. The Green Line, also known as the Buffer Zone, was established in 1974 when Turkey invaded Cyprus and took about 40% of the country’s land for themselves and claimed the space as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, although every country besides Turkey views the “republic” as illegal and illegitimate. Many Greek Cypriots living in northern cities were forced to abandon their homes during the invasion and flee to the South, leaving the North to be occupied by Turkish Cypriots (many of whom were also forced to leave their homes in the South and go North) and Turkish immigrants who were sent to live there later on. We planned on crossing the border in order to reach Famagusta and travel through the city to observe what life was like there, as well as visit historical sites like the Cathedral of St. Nicholas. However, the culture in the Turkish side of Cyprus is considered more conservative than in the Greek side, so we erred on the side of caution and wore pants on a considerably warmer day in order to pay respects.

Our observations began as soon as we crossed the border line. Bright red signs with images of armed soldiers on them warned us to not take any pictures or videos of the buildings or streets, as the area was deemed confidential by the stationed military. We drove by homes that were left sitting by the road empty and beaten down by the elements. Entering the actual town of Famagusta was an experience within itself, with our Turkish escort guide frantically trying to get us out of a bad traffic situation by guiding cars away from the bus and our resident tour guide Demetra cracking jokes along the way. Once we had the chance to leave the bus and walk around the busy parts of the city, it was strange looking at familiar architectural patterns and buildings labeled with Turkish words instead of Greek; it was eerie to think that some of that infrastructure was most likely there before the invasion in ’74. Cathedral of St. Nicholas was beautiful to see from the outside but even more impressive from the inside. In order to go in we all had to take off our shoes and the women had to put on skirts if they weren’t wearing pants (my fashion choices ended up paying off here) because the church was converted into a mosque in 1571, and seeing the original foundations of the building from when it acted as a church combined with the interior of a mosque felt surreal to me. Out of all of the experiences that I have had so far on our trip, this was the most grounding and interesting.