Time change not an asset in waking up, but we want to walk over to tell Fehmi, our dentist, that we’re here. And here for two weeks, so there’s lots of time. Lovely seeing him again - friend as well as dentist. And he makes us an appointment for tomorrow morning. He’s half way across the castle - the walled city - but that’s no more than a ten minute walk. A walk, though, that takes us past a few restaurants, all of them desperate for business. Embarrassing not to be providing it. Welcome, my friend. Very good food.
Staff often black or Arabic looking. There is an immigration problem which does no credit to anyone. African students, especially from Nigeria, Cameroon and Zimbabwe, come to TRNC (the republic of North Cyprus) lured, sometimes deliberately by recruiters, by the prospect of an affordable university degree and hopes of eventual entry to an EU country. They are often desperate for money to survive and take jobs for which they are likely to be underpaid. Some are unable to return to their own countries because of hopeless political situations. And any money they may earn is almost certain to be in Turkish lira, a currency in deep trouble, while their fees are charged in euros. This is a difficulty they share with the Turkish population. Hard currency is likely to be required for major purchases like cars but may be difficult to obtain. Hence we always pay Fehmi, our dentist, in either euros or sterling, although he would accept Turkish lira, and no doubt does from locals.
We take a walk just outside the walls after dusk and stop for doners, served with the usual salad, chips and rice (Jane always wondered why rice AND chips). Here the clientele is local and the prices lower. The staff a mixture of local and Asian. On the way back we pass several Africans, one a woman, probably Nigerian, carrying a large suitcase on her head.
Staff often black or Arabic looking. There is an immigration problem which does no credit to anyone. African students, especially from Nigeria, Cameroon and Zimbabwe, come to TRNC (the republic of North Cyprus) lured, sometimes deliberately by recruiters, by the prospect of an affordable university degree and hopes of eventual entry to an EU country. They are often desperate for money to survive and take jobs for which they are likely to be underpaid. Some are unable to return to their own countries because of hopeless political situations. And any money they may earn is almost certain to be in Turkish lira, a currency in deep trouble, while their fees are charged in euros. This is a difficulty they share with the Turkish population. Hard currency is likely to be required for major purchases like cars but may be difficult to obtain. Hence we always pay Fehmi, our dentist, in either euros or sterling, although he would accept Turkish lira, and no doubt does from locals.
We take a walk just outside the walls after dusk and stop for doners, served with the usual salad, chips and rice (Jane always wondered why rice AND chips). Here the clientele is local and the prices lower. The staff a mixture of local and Asian. On the way back we pass several Africans, one a woman, probably Nigerian, carrying a large suitcase on her head.