A bust of the founder of modern Turkey, Kemal Ataturk, takes pride of place in the square which marks the centre of this old Turkish Cypriot village, writes Chris Morris in Ser Darli, northern Cyprus. It reminds everyone that without Turkey's huge financial and military support, the self-declared Turkish Cypriot republic would cease to exist. Around the edge of the square, groups of men sit outside small cafes, mulling over the events of the day.
Their Greek neighbours have long gone, forced out in the often brutal population exchange in the 1960s and 1970s.
"Turkey is our motherland," said the village mayor, Mr Erdin Sutcuogullari, "but we came here 400 years before the Turkish people who arrived recently. We have a better understanding of modern democracy."
There's general agreement that this is a separate culture - a mingling of Turkish and Cypriot traditions. There is also an undercurrent of concern in some quarters that this separate sense of identity is gradually withering away.
Tens of thousands of mainland Turks have settled on Cyprus since the Turkish invasion in 1974 formalised the division, but the Turkish Cypriot administration insists that there is no deliberate policy of colonisation.
"This may be something alleged by the Greeks to mislead the world, but it has nothing to do with reality," the Turkish Cypriot Interior Minister, Mr Ilkay Kamil, says.
The settlers do play a significant role, however. They provide the Turkish Cypriot leader, Mr Rauf Denktash, with the backbone of his political support.
As recent immigrants, they have little interest in a solution which would see Cyprus reunited under a federal system, and they approve of Mr Denktash's hard line approach to any future negotiations. "Mr Denktash believes that Turkish Cypriots are Turks living in Cyprus," said the opposition politician, Mr Mehmet Ali Talat.
"This is not our view, we believe in a distinct identity. But it is becoming harder to maintain." That is true in all walks of life. Newspapers from the mainland outsell their local rivals, and if you want to buy a paper you pay in Turkish lira, the legal tender in northern Cyprus. Telephone numbers and postal addresses are also part of the Turkish national system.
Much of this is done out of necessity - a response to the international isolation imposed on the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Some residents believe it goes deeper, though, and they fear that Turkish Cypriot schools no longer teach enough about their own history and culture.
Most Turkish Cypriots are too polite to mention that they also blame recent immigrants for a sharp rise in crime. Cars and houses whose doors always stood open are now carefully locked at night.
Despite these misgivings, however, most Turkish Cypriots remain deeply grateful to Turkey for the 35,000 troops it has stationed on the island, and for hundreds of millions of pounds in financial assistance.
Turkey and the Turkish Cypriots have promised to move towards even closer integration as long as the Greek Cypriot government pursues its membership application to the EU.
Many Turkish Cypriots see no way out of the impasse, and questions about a political solution on Cyprus are often met with a resigned shrug of the shoulders. As the stalemate drags on, the old links with Greek Cypriots get weaker with each passing year.
"Of course our closest links are with Turkey," said Mr Yurda kul Cafer, a student walking with his friends on a Nicosia street. "It is the only country which recognises our right to exist." The path towards a permanent division of the island is clear, and political flexibility is in short supply.