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rack of the bus, there were fruits, vegetables and even a few hens in a special cage. No doubt
most of these men were traders.
It was a marvellous feeling to be in a bus. The cool breeze through the window frames, for there
was no glass fitted on the window frames on the sides of the bus, was eagerly devoured by the
passengers in anticipation of the hot, dusty day ahead.
I was hoping the bus route would follow the coast line, for even though our village was less than
four miles from the sea, I had never been to the coast. Unfortunately, the bus followed a differ-
ent route.
The fascination of all objects outside apparently moving backwards, as the bus sped forwards
leaving a cloud of dust behind it, was something I had not experienced before. However, the vi-
bration of the bus as it went over the rough road slowly induced me into a deep sleep.
I woke up an hour later to the sound of dozens of horns sounding simultaneously without a pause.
I opened my eyes to see more cars, buses, vans, bicycles and horse driven carriages than I had
ever thought could possibly exist in the whole world.
Our bus was now moving very slowly with at least ten vehicles in front of it and as many behind.
Hordes of donkeys and mules moving slowly along the side of the asphalt roads carried all sorts
of produce from the villages. Bicycles whizzed around in all directions, their bells frantically try-
ing to fill any unexpected gaps in the noise made by the horns from the motor driven vehicles.
The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the asphalt was a new and fascinating sound. For
the donkeys and the mules in our village walked only on fields and on paths of beaten earth and
didn't produce such a wonderful sound.
The men around me in the bus first answered my questions on various things and then showed
me others telling me their names, their use, their significance and history, especially of the most
impressive buildings and monuments that happened to be on our way. The big bridge which was
at least one hundred feet long and twenty feet wide, made the bridge in our village appear
minute. The construction of this enormous bridge apparently took years to complete, especially
because of its height as the river underneath it was at least fifty feet below.
Just after the bridge, there was a huge building on the right, nearly as big as half the houses of
my village put together. That was the Nicosia General Hospital. A beautiful flower garden on the
other side was followed by the Museum, more big houses and finally the bus terminal.
Reaching the bus terminal made me suddenly awake to reality and remember that the purpose
of my trip to Nicosia was not sight-seeing, but something of much greater significance. Within a
few minutes of arriving, the bus driver asked me to follow him to the other bus that would take
me near to the English School. The two drivers seemed to know each other well. The second
driver promised he would tell me where to get off. I had nothing to worry about.
When the bus stopped outside the school gates, fear of the unknown made my spine tingle. The
school was on the top of a hill hidden amongst a forest of acacias, eucalyptus, pine and cypress
trees. It was a majestic stone building with dozens of large rooms, situated two hundred yards
from the main road. Many people were walking, cycling or driving towards the school. The driver
told me I had plenty of time before the examinations started.
Near the entrance, a large board indicated the examination rooms, which were allocated in al-
phabetical order. Those whose surname started with "P" would be in the big hall. For the first time
in my life I felt lonely, even though surrounded by so many people. Most of the people spoke
differently; they spoke like my school teacher. Even the boys entering for the examination spoke
like that. I was envious; I couldn't possibly speak like them.
Then the words of my teacher came back to me. "You can't compete with those boys from the
cities and the big villages. They learn everything that any twelve year old boy can possibly learn.
You will be wasting your time."
Photo - the school building in 1956
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