And here I am, a girl on a bus, going to the opening ceremony for the Cyprus presidency of the EU 2026. A bus full of journalists and press officers, each with their own agendas and to-do lists. Ok maybe it’s not a full bus, maybe the cyprus presidency is not that important. Afterall it is happening every 13,5 years, so you can always catch the next one. I think it is important, because there’s a lot going on in the world right now and tiny Cyprus is called to spearhead an agenda that’s so much bigger than her. The stakes are high and all eyes are on the divided island that’s always strived to be a part of an important collective.
The vibe on the bus was patriarchy at its finest. Men of all ages and backgrounds, know-it-all having opinions about stuff that don’t concern them to have an opinion in the first place.
Upon arrival we were checked in airport fashion and the snipers in plain sight made me wonder if it was all for show or if there was actually high security.
My yellow tag was just a reminder that my clearance level was as low as possible, limited to documenting lavish arrivals and exits.
Highlight of the day was the head of security losing it over a car that escaped the roadblocks and entered from the other side of the road, while previously he was passively threatening journalists to stay in their lane.
The arrivals of the guests were slow and steady, proving a veteran reporter’s point that this year’s ceremony was far more organised than the previous one in 2012. Foreign coworkers on the other hand, had a different experience. In the name of security — ours and the guests — they were mistakenly restricted from taking the desired pictures for their countries’ delegates, as a frustrated Iraqi journalist shared.
Leaving the premises, tired and worn out, the vibe on the bus was completely different. Silent but fulfilled by a day none of us are certain will ever experience again.