They aren’t supposed to be friends.
At least, that’s how people would see it in their home country, Cyprus — the third largest island in the Eastern Mediterranean Sea.
Sixteen-year-olds Ugfe (pronounced ooh-fay) Kuyucuoglu and Elena Pirillou, a Turkish and Greek Cypriot, respectively, are in Portland for July, bunking in the same room — hoping to turn that cultural misconception around.
They are two of 14 teenagers from Cyprus, seven from the Greek-speaking south, paired with seven from the Turkish-speaking north, who have come to Portland as part of the Cyprus Friendship Program.
The all-volunteer program pairs teens from across the divide by having them live and work together on “peace-building exercises” in one of four U.S. cities: Portland; Atlanta; Washington, D.C.; and Durham, N.H. A total of 146 Cypriots applied for the program, and 60 were chosen.
Nine Portland-area families host pairs of 15- to 18-year-olds, all English speakers. The four-week program includes group activities, such as community service with Habitat for Humanity, and a field trip to learn native crafts such as loom beading with tribal youth at the Museum at Warm Springs.
In addition to building friendships, each pair of teens researches sustainable practices in one of several categories. For example, Ugfe and Elena chose to try to find better ways to implement recycling and composting in their home country.
Upon their return to Cyprus, the teenagers participate in a one-year alumni program in which they organize activities between the Turks and Greeks and talk to school kids and other groups about their experience.
According to Cheron Calder, the program’s Portland-area coordinator, the hope is to become “living examples of peaceful coexistence between two communities” that have been separated by land mines and a United Nations-enforced barrier for more than three decades.
Back in Cyprus, the teens will prepare a report and presentation about the sustainability practices they observed in Portland, and how to apply them at home. They will present their findings at the program’s graduation event in October.
Crossing the border
Ugfe and Elena say they are here to try to bridge a gap that has divided their island since the country’s split in 1974.
“When my classmates found out I was doing the program, a lot of them would ignore me, or call me a traitor,” says Elena.
Ugfe, who is sharing a room with Elena in a family home in Northwest Portland, adds that 15 years ago, the two would not have even been able to talk to each other on the phone.
A militarized buffer separates the two communities, and travel between them is a tedious and expensive process.
But the girls don’t see any reason they shouldn’t be friends. In fact, Ugfe and Elena live less than 25 miles from each other, but are separated by the border.
Elena says that though Cypriots have been able to cross the border since 2003, she has only done so three times. She and Ugfe are excited to make more trips across the border, together.
“We aren’t taking a huge step here, but we are hoping to get back some of that community feeling between the Turkish and Greek speakers,” Ugfe says.
Before 1974, Turkish and Greek Cypriots lived together, which is why their cultures remain similar in most aspects of everyday life. Much has been done to establish better relations between the two communities, but according to Elena, animosity still runs deep in much of the older generation.
Historically speaking
Turks and Greeks have historically been at odds, dating to 1821, when Greece was liberated from Ottoman rule and Turkey was not. They have since faced each other in four major wars.
The present conflict in Cyprus arose in July 1974, when the Greeks staged a coup against the Cypriot president, Makarios III, shortly followed by a Turkish invasion of the northern third of the island.
Turkish Cypriots, who make up 18 percent of the island’s population compared to the Greek’s 77 percent, claimed the northeast end of the island and dubbed it the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, which is recognized only by Turkey. Advocates from both sides claim that the other is in the wrong.
Elena says those who lived through the past decades of conflicts continue to hold grudges, considering the heavy losses that both communities endured. But the younger Cypriots, she adds, are often fed one-sided stories, leading them to question who is in the wrong.
“We’re both teenagers, and, I mean, we’re just not that different,” she says.
Putting away politics
The four-year-old Cyprus Friendship Program landed in Portland two years ago almost by chance.
Calder, Portland’s program coordinator, recently completed a master’s degree in conflict resolution at Portland State University. Her professor, Harry Anastasiou, and his brother, Nicos, both Greek Cypriots, had helped start the friendship program.
After visiting Cyprus on a class expedition, Calder and her professor decided she should bring the Cyprus Friendship Program to Portland.
The project grew from nine pairs of participating students in 2009 to 30 pairs this summer.
“The idea is that the teens share a room for the summer and become friends for life,” Calder says. “What we have here is people taking peace-building into their own hands, and showing that this sort of project can make a difference.”
Calder oversees the program, making sure all group activities go as planned. She is also the communications director, because the young people are not allowed to use any form of electronics while on the trip.
The program is modeled on a similar project aimed at building friendships in Northern Ireland between Protestant and Catholic youth.
As a nonprofit, it’s funded by individual donors as well as by the HasNa Inc., a Washington, D.C., nonprofit that helps women across Turkey play a prominent role in local economies.
Gizem Kubilay, a Turkish Cypriot who came to Portland with the program last year, says that while they may not be eradicating tensions between north and south, members of the Cyprus Friendship Program are making a difference for the better.
“I think now we started affecting a lot of teenagers in a good way,” Kubilay says. “Thirty pairs is not just 60 teenagers but also their mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Even their friends are involved. If we put away politics, folks are good with each other.”
Kubilay became interested because her grandfather and mother always told her how dangerous and untrustworthy Greek Cypriots were. Her father, however, convinced her that their country needed “peace instead of borders.”
When she first witnessed the divisive border, where people have to show their passports to get to other parts of their own country, Kubilay knew things needed to change.
“When I saw that scene, I was ashamed for my country,” she says.
Now that Kubilay is back, she says her mother and peers are much more open to the idea of interacting with those across the buffer zone.