The world of hideouts and hidings is not the world we know. There are different rules. There is no phones, no names, no clocks, no usual addresses.
Refusals, one after another. You don’t want to know this, child. I will not say anything because my children are still living.
Documents? They were forged during the war and after it. Date of birth? Name? Surname? Occupation? University degree? What defines us when everything there is to know about us is not true?
A boy comes everyday, a farmers’ son, and through a hole in the floor dictates them school lessons, and they absorb, absorb because they are… because the word is the highest experience where there are no other.
When we were conducting interviews which led us to creation of „Hideout” we heard: just please tell them it didn’t end, that we are still in this closet. So we say it.
“And another girl doesn’t remember hunger at all. Hunger didn’t occupy her mind. But she remembers when a man, who was the owner of the hideout, threw them chicken leftovers and how adults jumped greedily and she with them because she thought that’s how you should it.
Yiorgos Onisiforou met Mrs. Ayfer Yalcın in December 2013.
Recorded on the 19th of March 2014 in Ayios Andreas, Nicosia while exchanging songs in the context of Songs of My Neighbours’ research.
While conducting research on the songs of the “other” community, Antonis Antoniou met up with Sertunç Akdoğu and Serhan Öncal.
Here’s a recording made during Marya Lowry‘s workshop on Voice and Empathetic Listening in Lemesos.