It’s hard to feel coolwithout other people to compare yourself with.

Delivering Views - Delivering Text #34

What did Natalie see in Nicosia that we might not "see"?

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In an era where travel is often presented through the filtered lens of social media, the recent exploration of Nicosia and Cyprus by independent journalist Natalie Donback offers an antidote to the pursuit of coolness. Her writing, sent to the Cultural Center of Phaneromeni 70 for the project "Delivering Views - Delivering Text," captures the essence of a city that defies the trends of virtual gentrification.

For Natalie, Nicosia has not yet fallen victim to the homogenized aesthetics that Instagram influencers blindly follow. On the contrary, wandering through it, she sees a revelation of a mosaic of contradictions and realizes that Nicosia invites its visitors to engage with its perhaps raw authenticity.

Through "Delivering Views - Delivering Text," the Cultural Center of Phaneromeni 70 opens a dialogue that begins with the impressions of visitors to the island. This project assembles the images that locals often overlook, enriching the understanding and recall of meanings that shape the landscape of Cyprus. The accounts of visitors are delivered to a range of artists and intellectuals, who delve into these experiences, expressing their own thoughts. Through workshops and discussions that follow, the layers of the Cypriot identity unfold, bringing forth reflections on our shared experiences and the complex fabric of the island.

Natalie Donback is a freelance reporter and editor, she focus on stories around climate change, global health, and the many ways technology affects people. She is interested in human-centered stories that illustrate the big-picture issues shaping our world today.

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Curation: Phaneromenis70 Center

Translation: Anna Maria Katomoniati, Marilena Zachariou

Design: Anastasia Matheou

Delivering Views - Delivering Texts #34Nicosia, Cyprus, November 2024

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It’s hard to feel cool without other people to compare yourself with Natalie Donback

People want to feel hip at all times, but especially when they travel. The issue with this much sought-after coolness is that it’s based on a soulless, global taste shaped by Instagram and TikTok. It is, in a way, the gentrification of personal style. This can be applied to much more than a person's clothing and expands to the spaces where they move - and where they are photographed. Nicosia, however, is perhaps the European capital that cares less about this global hunt for coolness. During my brief visit to Europe’s last divided capital, I struggled to make sense of the city. Derelict buildings about to fall apart can be seen next to thriving coffee shops. Polished art galleries line up next to Max Mara and other upscale fashion shops in a new part of town that seems to be about 85% new (and often still empty) retail spaces and only about 15% humans. When we walk through more residential neighborhoods on our way for dinner, the streets are almost ghostly empty. We figured it might be because of the late hours, but the following morning was the same: we roamed street after street without encountering anyone else, except for a few old Nicosians satting on plastic chairs outside of their homes. It’s hard to feel cool without other people to compare yourself with. There’s almost a bit of loneliness creeping in when you go to spot after spot and discover no one else seems to think it’s worth visiting. This is what’s so refreshing in Nicosia: you’re forced to kind of just be, to throw your expectations of a hip, European city out of the window and just take it for what it is. The neighbourhood xxx hosts artist studios and some modern-looking cafes (all shut when we visit on a Tuesday morning) but lack the buzz I’m used to seeing in European capitals: people with MacBook Airs working while sipping on a flat white, girls dressed so cool I want to ask them where they got those earrings, and baristas so grumpy they take away your will to live. We dine in an upscale restaurant recommended by a local friend, but instead of hosting hip groups of friends (which is what I’m used to seeing in Barcelona's wine bars) there are mostly very normal looking Cypriot bros, families, and older couples. Where is the youth in this town, we ask ourselves? Have they all moved to the more glitzy Limassol? Left the country? Either way, Nicosia is strange and I still can’t wrap my head around it. We walk along the green zone and see the UN peacekeepers (is that what they are?) manning small booths on the border separating the north (occupied) and the south parts of the city, and country. It feels like something that belongs to the Cold War era, or at the most a George Orwell book. It’s these contrasts and its total uniqueness that makes Nicosia a city that can’t be described or compared to other European capitals and big cities: gentrified, globalized, and devoid of their own personality. But maybe it won’t be spared for long. In the village of Lefkara, which is known for the old women lining its cobbled streets making lace and embroidery, a new hotel stands out from all the cute guest houses named in Greek. In the middle of the village lies a hotel with an English name so devoid of personality that it could be located anywhere from Brooklyn to Bangkok. Inside, foreign guests feast on 18€ burrata salads - something I think should be considered a crime in the homeland of halloumi - while looking so glamorous it looks borderline stupid given we’re all in a rural village. Oh, and it’s Taco Tuesday. Cocktails are the same in their aesthetic and price as those in my home city Barcelona. In a carefully designed courtyard made for Instagram, how can one tell you’re in a charming Cypriot mountain village? The concept of resort wear was born a few years ago - think 200$ dresses cool enough to wear both to the beach and a swanky dinner by the resort pool. I look around me while I sip my expensive cocktail (because maybe I am one of those people?) and it’s impossible to decode any information: age, nationalities, occupation - the only thing that radiates through is the money that can buy that global coolness that comes with the price tag of uploading, tagging, and editing a shit ton of content. Those weird streets of Nicosia suddenly feel very refreshing, even though I still can’t wrap my head around them. At least they were something different. Natalie Donback is a freelance reporter and editor, she focus on stories around climate change, global health, and the many ways technology affects people. She is interested in human-centered stories that illustrate the big-picture issues shaping our world today.