A handmade work of art, made from the blonde stone of the area. As I observe the deserted village, I feel a connection to the depths of time. I understand that this is how people built their dwellings from prehistory until recently, with care and beauty. Today, the site is used to keep goats and sheep. I searched and found the family of the old mukhtar of Souskiou, in Kythrea. The mukhtar has died but his son recounts as we meet in their coffeeshop full of Turkish flags: ‘My father owned a lot of land and helped everyone, Turks and Christians, he was especially loved. When the moment came and we had to flee, I remember, my father leaned on his tractor and wept.’ The mukhtar’s wife said: ‘I visited once, they cut down the trees, there is nothing left. The river is dry. The eels were sweet as honey. I do not want to go back, there is nothing left.’ The son said: ‘If we are allowed to, I will return, that is where I want to live.’
