Living on the edge.

It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived. ~Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Cyprus is an island divided. This is easily seen when looking at any map.

Despite that, there is little that would reflect this division when wandering around the southern part of the island, the part recognized worldwide as the Republic of Cyprus. Not until you (a) see the massive flag on the side of the mountains in the TRNC (Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus) or (b) hit the green line.

If you've been reading, you know that the green line is the name given to the barrier that runs the width of the island. To the south is the country of Cyprus and to the north is the TRNC (the name given by and only recognized by the Turks, many of whom have lived in the north since the invasion almost 40 years ago). Between the two regions is an area referred to as the "dead zone" and patrolled by the UN. It's basically a no-man's (or no-woman's) land that has been frozen in time since the invasion.

Many might think that being invaded twice in one year, losing almost half your land, all contact with some neighbors and part of your national identity would be tough. This was the reality in Cyprus in 1974.

The south has made leaps toward recovery. They were able to rebuild property, give homes those who were displaced from the north and strengthen their economy. The only place in the south where there are still evident signs of the invasion and division is right near the green line.

Sunday, a few of us went for another visit into the Old City (the part of the city within the Venetian Walls). The first stop was the Ledra Museum-Observatory, which gave us the opportunity to see the city at the highest point. Having such a vantage point gives you a better idea of the city's shape. It also gives a clear picture of the north, in a way that isn't possible from ground-level.

We then moved on to the Levantis Municipal Museum (it was free and huge!) and stayed until it closed. From there, our group continued the trek northwestward until we came to the Famagusta Gate. As it was after four on a Sunday, the gate was closed. Continuing up the street, we came to the green line.

This location offered the best glimpse of the dead zone. The fence was low and inconsequential. Beyond the fence were visible signs of former life. There were buildings and roads, which are now being taken over by trees, grass and weeds. It just seemed...well...dead.

Moving down the street that ran parallel with the line, Dr. Legg explained to us that revitalization efforts were being made in this area. He shared that families were being encouraged to move into the area. As we walked along, signs of children could be seen through the windows and in the doorways. At one house, a little girl peeked her head out the window to watch the strange-looking Americans walking by.

We joked as we walked that you would be unable to walk out your backdoor, since the back wall of your house would be joining against the green line. In reality, we probably weren't that far off.

And that continues to boggle me. It was 37 years ago when this beautiful island nation suffered so much. The people who were children at that time would now have children and, possibly, grandchildren of their own. It seems impossible that they would then, after knowing and hearing all of that, be able to move their families into houses so close to the line. The line that, until a few years ago, no one was allowed to cross.

I can't imagine how difficult it would be for a young, inquisitive child to be told repeatedly that they can't cross the fence. Or that they might not even be able to go behind their house. I wonder if any of these houses even have a backdoor.

In this area, there are other houses that are dilapidated and falling apart. Many are be missing doors, windows, even roofs. Despite that, there's some quaintness to the bits that are left. An almost nostalgic beauty. The kind that you normally see very rarely, but just seems to seep through in the culture of this fascinating country.