First Steps in the Ghost Town of Maraş (2023)
On May 27th, 2023, I visited the place where my mother was born. I had never been there before - it was my mothers’ first time being back since she was 5 years old, in 1968.
Maraş (more commonly known as Varosha) is located in the southern quarter of Gazimağusa (more commonly known as Famagusta) on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean island of Cyprus. Currently, Maraş is under the occupation of mainland Turkey since its invasion of Cyprus in 1974. Maraş, once a beachside resort town, has lain barren, abandoned and undisturbed ever since. Graffiti dating back to the 1970’s, and old signs and architecture lay untouched, decaying slowly. The area was heavily restricted to civilians until 2020, when new roads were paved and the town was opened to the general public as a sort of tourist attraction with pristine sandy beaches. The lost homes and property have yet to be reunited with their original owners and efforts to rebuild the town stay on hold as the Greek and Turkish conflict is still technically in a ceasefire. Click Here to learn more about the conflict (note: the telling of the recent history of Cyprus is very rarely unbiased and I felt that this article came closest to arguing a neutral perspective. When looking into the history further, please understand that this history is extremely nuanced and complicated.)
My mother was born in a hospital in Maraş, and calls Gazimağusa her hometown. She is Turkish-Cypriot, and was forced to migrate due to the growing intercommunal conflict when she was just 5 years old along with thousands of other Cypriots. I have only heard tales of Maraş and always knew it as the birthplace of my mother, and assumed I would never get to visit it due to heavy restrictions by the Turkish military, Greek military and the UN. However, to my great surprise, Maraş was opened, and I had the opportunity to visit during my most recent trip to Cyprus with my mother. I felt both awe and intense unease walking through the streets. This town fell victim of “dark tourism” - it felt horribly wrong watching tourists take smiling selfies with their friends in front of a disintegrating hotel, in a post-apocalyptic-like landscape, or coming across snack carts and beach umbrellas set up on the pristine shore as though a war-torn, abandoned city wasn’t a strange thing to have as a backdrop. These photos are rooted in wonder and discomfort at this space, at the whispers of what once was and what was lost. For more information about Varosha, Click Here.
