Nicosia, Cyprus – On a Wednesday evening, a group of Cypriot Maronites has gathered at the Maronite Archbishopric in the capital city of Nicosia for choir rehearsals. As the choir concludes the last verse of Silent Night, the conductor, Georgia Markou, shakes her hand into a fist in the air.
“Was my Arabic OK?” asks Georgia, turning to her audience of a few Lebanese refugees who fled last September’s attack on Lebanon by Israel.
“It was funny but it was fine!” replies a young man leaning against a table as a Lebanese girl who has joined the choir looks at him, smiling. Maria and Georges are a young couple who recently arrived from Lebanon. “Our last name is Kamar, it means moon,” Maria says, her eyes shining.
They come from Hadet, a village on the outskirts of Beirut and are just two of thousands of Lebanese who have sought shelter in Cyprus in recent months.
Many have been assisted by people like Georgia, who lives in Nicosia but is originally from Asomatos, one of the traditional Maronite villages on the island. While members of her community speak Cypriot Greek in everyday life, a few still speak Sanna, an ancient Arabic dialect spoken by Cypriot Maronites.
Today, they are preparing for the concert: “We will perform Silent Night in four languages,” explains Georgia. “We will sing in English, Greek, Arabic and Sanna.”