Let’s talk a bit about Cyprus and all it’s weirdness (…or not). I’ll tell you something about them, nobody ever told them that staring is rude. When I was a kid, it was received wisdom that openly staring at odd balls, weirdoes, crazies, and sick people was a NO NO. It’s a fact of life that has allowed me to get as far as I have in modern society.

Cypriots are completely unaware of this simple rule. In fact, I suspect that young Cypriots are sent to special staring schools where they learn to gawp intently at anything out of the ordinary. If staring were an Olympic sport, the Cypriots would be legendary.

You’re catching on to my general point here. THEY LIKE TO STARE. Apparently shuffling down the road at a snail’s pace is well within the legitimate grounds for Cypriot-style staring. On every normal day, as I wend my way to the shops, you're bound to see people fetching chairs out from their flats and settling down to a protracted staring session.

I've noticed this predilection before, I must admit. When I first came to Cyprus, speaking English in public would cause people to fix their gaze on you as if they expected you to start eating your own leg at any moment. Recently, on the way to an event in a Cypriot village, one woman almost broke her neck in her efforts to stare into the car I was traveling in.

I swear, the other day I saw a blind girl who had been provided with a dog that was specially trained to do her staring for her. The hound fixed me with a beady gaze, its head tilted to one side, as its mistress casually wondered into the path of an oncoming pedestrian. Now, how fcuked up is that???

And if that’s not enough, I've got some real WEIRD neighbors. They moved in some few weeks back. Ok, in my building, there are six flats. I hardly know any of the people living here, I say “hi” when I pass them, but I wouldn't be able to pick them out of a line-up.

But the weirdest thing has just started occurring from my new neighbors. I don’t know who does it, but they ring the door bell before unlocking their own door. That’s right; they come home, ring the bell, with the key in hand, and unlock 10 seconds after ringing. And they seem to get out a lot because it’s almost a constant ringing and unlocking. It’s just weird.

On a another note, winter's upon us. The cold will become unbearable. I wish…I wish I were in some place cozy and warm...if I say that three times, will my wish come true?

-Written by Anonymous for Scanty Gela Blog 'MY STORY' Series...

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Shutting her eyes quickly, she moves some more, much closer to his smooth shaven face. His lips are just whiskers away from her lips. She feels something warm on her neck. It is his tongue, gently teasing, drawing tiny circles at first. He takes his time. He always does...READ MORE Learn more »

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[Continued...] ... The queues were energy draining, moving slow. Eventually, it was my turn, greeting the lady behind the counter with a high energetic tone, and then she bombarded me with some Turkish words which at that time felt like a blast to my face, looking at her other work mate, she replied in something that I did not understand, remained still, with my shoulders and head raised, she went mute. Fortunate enough her counterpart then asked how can I help you, everything lightened up during that moment, and the good part about it she then gave me the flexibility to choose the nationality of the roommates that I wanted to live with, since some were just being chosen randomly, and with that fear of at the current time living with people who you literally cannot communicate with made me to choose a room which had my fellow brothers from Zimbabwe, this had taught me a lot in terms of making pivotal decisions regarding what I want to venture in. Yurt ‘dorm’ 4, room 408, she wrote it on the paper which I had to present to the dormitory officer.

I vividly remember thanking her a lot since it gave relief to both my mother and sister Patience Kanombirira who i was communicating with during that period because the registration period was somehow straining to me however everything was settled. I had to transfer all my bags to the new room that was on the fourth floor. We took time to get to know each other, get to know our neighbors since it was helpful in adjusting to the prevail.

Keith Kanombirira

Lectures had already started but were not yet on a high tone as what it does in the middle or towards the end of the semester, the first lecture which I attended was chemistry, the teacher was a Turkish lady, very energetic and strict as compared to the other lecturers, upon arrival of every student she highlighted that she does not tolerate late comers or those who use mobile phones in her lectures in a way that inflicted fear like no one other including much older students. Her accent, i struggled to clearly get it since her English was inclined to the Turkish tone, but with time I was absorbing it all.

Since it was the first time everyone from different nations took it as an opportunity to greet each other and at that point one could hear different tones and styles, the way people from the other hemisphere greet each, from the famous “how far” which is done by Nigerians to “selam” by Arabs which mostly were people from Iraq, Palestine, Jordan, Dubai, lastly “merhaba” by our host country. This subject was easy to me since it was basically revision of what mostly I had done during my years in high school. The physics lecturer hauled all the way from Italy though he had been teaching in Istanbul for some time before he decided to come to Cyprus, so he was more familiar with being in a Turkish environment. His accent was more Italian, I met resistance in this subject because of the way it was being dished out.

Trying to adjust, the lecturer advising us to rub of all the knowledge we had acquired from high school emphasizing that university was much more different henceforth what you previously know cannot be applied with respect to the context to be covered. I agreed to fall into this trap, which made me have a mark that was mediocre out of bound of my mark band, furthermore I had not adequately studied hard for that exam since it was my first, having little knowledge of the typical questions which are set. Even though a few days before the exam, I had talked to a few of my Nigerians doing engineering who were somehow reserved and just said it all depends with the teacher, some are hard while some are easy which now I understand what my brothers from the west were trying to imply. All he wanted to do was to cover the syllabus but on the expense of the other students who faced tough challenges, it all soon began to flow smoothly on my part. Moving on to the mathematics, which I can say it was my best course, which i attribute the lump sum of it all to my lecturer Mr Abba Auwalu from Nigeria, who was very patient with us as the students since he took every principle from the ground and taking his time to add the flesh to the bone, moulding it like plasticine.

On my part I excelled excellently with help of the teacher stamped with the enormous hard work that I had to put in day in, day out. In a nutshell I continue to swim in this sea of adventure full of 'un-expectations', continuing to unlock the different phases of life as I build my journey of a tourney since there is indeed light at the end of the tunnel for those who are willing to burn the mid night oil and go an extra mile with that affinity to achieve inching them towards their main goal .

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Written by Keith Kanombirira (NEU)

Contact me on:
FACEBOOK ---- www.facebook.com/keith.kanos
INSTAGRAM---- www.instagram.com/keithworldwide
TWITTER— twitter.com/keithworldwide
EMAIL---- keithtawanda@gmail.com
PHONE MUMBER----- 05338845839

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My name is Keith Kanombirira, 19 years old, all the way from Southern Africa, Zimbabwe, Currently doing my bachelors in Electrical and Electronic Engineering at Near East University.

My life is Cyprus has been filled with highs and lows from meeting new people, a new culture above all being soaked in a place that offers a new twist to life, when I first reached Ercan the airport it looked small and they was little activity as compared to the other airports that is Dubai international airport which is one of the world busiest airports we walked around the port went in into the different stores just to mention a few, the second port was Ataturk airport in Istanbul Turkey.

When we boarded the flight to the island of Cyprus it was a much smaller plane the facilities in that plane where different from the Emirates airplane speaking from a perspective of a person who had used Air Zimbabwe back in 2010, the plane was called Atlas jet, it was filled with students who were dreaded and drunk with sleep because of the two days of flight that we had been going through, regardless of that high hopes had already been instilled in us when we left the mother land Africa-Zimbabwe.

Mr. Keith Kanombirira

When the airplane touched down, we were escorted by the immigration officers as they guarded us into the processes that perspire at the airport. After finishing all the ones and twos at the airport it was time for us to head to the school, they were a lot of buses to pick us up at the airport. The street lights were lit, and that feeling of excitement that finally we have arrived in Cyprus kept tingling in my mind thereby raising my adrenaline thinking of everything I am going to do.

Upon arrival at the school we were received by warm hands since it was a batch of international students who knew nothing but just that we are at Near East University. We were assigned to our temporary rooms for the night until we settle, I got my place at the top a bunk bed which to me was comfortable, to my surprise when I went to use the bathroom, the tap water was salty, this itself heavily hit on me thinking maybe it was a current water problem not knowing that it was a permanent state that I had to adjust to, one of the good thing is we came in during a religious holiday so it was a four day break for everyone, this gave us time to rest after two days of flight, amongst the bad is that the school, did not provide meals for us during the stay in the guest house.

The following day I and my Zimbabwean roommates went on to the market to get some food stuffs, we could hear people speaking in Turkish, but didn’t know the impact it came along with to the foreign students. When we went to the till, I asked “ how much is it?” holding a bottle of 100% orange juice and the ayrani (a turkish yogurt blended with water and salt) which has presently became one my favourites, she then replied in Turkish which at that time it sounded loud ,funny and fast, thinking she would at this time use English I went on to ask again but she then replied in her language, my friends burst in laughter thinking that she is doing it intentionally but she was not, actually she didn’t understand the queen’s language at all, which we as Africans view English as an international language.

We went on to a certain place called Chicken house which sells fast food burgers, fries and all that, we ordered beef burgers but the taste itself was different from the original beef we knew, but after a moment we then read it’s a type of beef they eat as an alternative to the original one which then left unanswered questions in our minds as no one could answer them because of the language barrier.

It is said every new day brings its own twist to life, days passed by while we took shelter in our temporary dorms waiting for registration. The day finally arrived when we were supposed to register, in my mind I thought it was easy as ABC, but I faced a lot of challenges, to break them down, I woke up went to the shower with my soap my mother had packed for me, little did I know when I turned on the shower the salty water did not react well with the soap to produce lather but it made the mixture to clot, scientifically the salts, the ions in the salty water could not react with the soap, since no one had shared such information with us from the start I continued with my bath but facing problem indeed there was a “problem var” as the Turkish would say, I then applied my lotion and put on amongst my best outfits since it was a new day that I was going to different offices.

Before I went out of our temporary room, on that same fateful day the guard came and gave us a notice that we should be fixing our accommodation papers and vacate since these rooms you are using are reserved for other people who had booked them in advance so they might need to move in anytime as soon as they reach the university. This actually sent shockwaves around my whole body, asking myself what am I going to do? I do not even know any single person here, what if they kick us out, what if the owners of the room suddenly come tonight? I then went out of the dormitory with a confident posture, along the way I met a Turkish guy and with a bright face so as to ask directions on where I can find the international office, before he even finished hearing my question, waving both of his arms he went on to say no English.

I looked left and right trying to find any of my African brothers and sisters I couldn’t find one since the school had not started still on the last semester break, now with a confused face that the next person I might ask again might say the same thing, luckily I then met a Nigerian a guy called Emedu, at first we did not understand each so well since it was my first time speaking to someone from West of the Africa with a totally different tone , he then walked me to the office pointing out the need to learn Turkish language and at the same time telling me the names of the building, assuring me that with time I will get the grip of the new school, the walk seemed long, and it was so hot, the kind of weather which makes one feel drained and deeply thirsty for a liquid.

Upon arrival at the office I then discovered there was a long line, new students also awaiting to register and senior students with those fancy hairstyles that you see on the television. People were just displacing after they asked the last person their number so that, I quickly hold onto a number, not yet satisfied of the number I got and the authenticity of the whole process of getting a number from someone, I went into the office and when I was about to get to the table where a certain Nigerian lady who works in the international office was sitting she then asked with a loud voice have you taken your number, I assume the loud voice was because she got frustrated by being asked the same thing over and over, and the level of disorganization that had filled the place. I politely asked her what I was supposed to do and she responded to me nicely and in a moment I got a grip of what was supposed to be done, I waited for a form where I had to fill in my details and surrender my certificates.

At that moment I was told there are some certain fees that i didn’t pay that included health insurance, social activity so I had to go to the Near east bank, did I know where it was, I did not! I then asked a Zimbabwean who was near and she did not know the place she was new, I looked around asked a senior student, another brother from the west and he properly directed me. It was now time to walk to the place when I stepped down the stairs, the thirst intensified and what it need was to be quenched, I thought to myself where am I going to get the water in the middle of the school like this, walking down the i then saw a cafeteria, went in put out my 100 United States dollar and the lady responded in some Turkish words which I cannot remember but I knew it meant a no because of her body language.

At that point in time, I started feeling a bit dizzy because of the strong heat blaze, I found my way to the bank, the bank was organized as in one just doesn’t sit and wait in line as I had previously did back in Zimbabwe when I was making my bank account, but one had to first take a number from a number generating machine. My number was way above hundreds and they were a lot of people, I thought to myself is this what happens in European banks, the level of activity, suddenly my number popped up on the screens since I only wanted to make a payment into the school’s account.

Finally he then changed my USD dollar notes to Turkish liras and life wholly became normal at that moment since it now gave me flexibility. It was now time to register for my dormitory resident for the semester, with some peeps that I had came with preferring to go stay off campus which my mother had denounced and I was in the same boat with her considering the fact that being a new student, still a new place, coming from the so called dark continent to the white people infested area. The queues where energy draining moving slow, it was now time for my turn, greeting the lady behind the counter with a high energetic tone, and then she bombarded me with some Turkish words which at that time felt like a blast to my face, looking at her other work mate, she replied in something that I did not understand, remained still, with my shoulders and head raised, she went mute.

CLICK TO READ PART 2 of 'MY STORY' by Keith Kanombirira

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Written by Keith Kanombirira (NEU)

Contact me on:
FACEBOOK ---- www.facebook.com/keith.kanos
INSTAGRAM---- www.instagram.com/keithworldwide
TWITTER— twitter.com/keithworldwide
EMAIL---- keithtawanda@gmail.com
PHONE MUMBER----- 05338845839

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To send your write-ups to us for publishing, email writers@scantygela.com or SUBMIT ONLINE | MORE INFO? Click Here . This service is FREE. 

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