I was born in the far eastern corner of the Mediterranean. My birthplace was hiding in the footprints of a small range of a mountain that dominated the skyline, demarcated north from south and blessed the village with periodic rains that brought home violent currents and streams, to water the thirsty lands of the village.

In this small, poor village lived some thousand decent people, who respected each other but who also had strong, high passions that led to disputes, arguments, serious body harm and political enmities of untold stupidity. In this small village I was blessed to be born in a normal for the village family of four siblings, a house of three big rooms and two smaller rooms at the back used as a kitchen and bath place. In between my father created a small paradise of orchard threes and further back a yard full of chicken, ducks, pigeons and the pig sty that provided some additional income to my struggling father to feed us and my mother who weaved a little on the side to make ends meet.

Of course nobody can imagine the sort of life we used to live, enjoy and cherish because somebody else’s life is indeed hard to describe in words and imagine but easier and a lot easier to actually live, remember vividly when that life has been lost to you and all the thousand people who lived in it some fifty years ago. Unimaginable at that time but reality of now.

I used to imagine how life was for the Greeks of Asia Minor through the books of Elias Venezis. I used to read and listen to music the Greeks of Asia Minor took with them when they were forced out of their homes and their lands, their birthplaces and their holy places but it was more the work of imagination rather than the vivid lives and memories when you have actually lived the events, experienced them to a certain degree and relive them daily.

It is the life of a lifetime,  I am about to embark on and try to bring forward for other humans, for all humanity to understand what it means to long to go home, to go back to your birthplace and live the last few moments of your life, exactly where it began in such a sweet way, even though it might have been in misery, poverty, cruelty and abuse.

Welcome to my world and that of another 200,000 on the island of Cyprus. Welcome to the world of millions of refugees, who annually are forced out in the wilderness of our world. In spite of all the calamity befallen on so many millions of people, I am optimistic, I hope and I live in hope!


Peter Constant

Apologies for spelling and grammatical mistakes. This is a working document that will last for a some time. Through art I will narrate life!

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