More or less every 10 years, the government (of the day) takes a look at education and devises a ‘new approach’, full of promise, to the curriculum. But, we’ve seen some dissenting voices recently, even from erudite personalities at the heart of Malta’s educational establishment. One of the supposed shortcomings of the new curriculum many point to is its rigidity; its inability to allow schools room to experiment, innovate and inspire.  In fulfilling the curriculum requirements, schools may have little time left to offer experiences that differentiate them or are adapted to their particular student intake.

Increasingly, there are parents in Malta wondering how to breathe fresh air into their children’s education and opt for alternatives to the state-church school dominated sector, and the fairly limited choice of international and/or private schools which do make some attempt to do things differently.

Unsurprisingly, a good many parents seeking alternatives to the current educational offer are foreigners living in Malta. Their assessment of the local educational options is serving to highlight also to local parents though the limitations of Malta’s schooling.  Clearly, foreigner parents here, who have no Maltese roots or prior linkages to the Islands, are reluctant to have their children straitjacketed in an educational system serving predominantly a nation’s aims, as they  see it, rather than children’s needs, whatever their cultural background.

They are banding together, attracting interested Maltese parents, and trying to work out how to bring alternative educational approaches to the Islands, within whatever legal frameworks they are duty bound to operate. Alternatives they are looking at, like the Waldorf system, are well established elsewhere in Europe but have yet to find a place in Malta.

Julian Saez and his wife Deirdre – Spanish and Irish nationals respectively – are two such parents. They school their two young daughters at a Waldorf school in Spain for half the year, but spend the other half year in Malta.  While relatively happy with the schooling here in Malta, they can see how it falls short in delivering the enlightened schooling their daughters receive in Spain.  Julian is on a drive to see whether it’s feasible to set up a Waldorf or similar type of school in Malta. Here’s he explains why he and Deirdre are on a mission to find out.

How did you end up being interested in educational models and methods?

My wife, Deirdre, is a very experienced psychologist, with a long background in education.  I’m an engineer and one of my passions is learning and teaching. I’m also lecturer in Murcia University in Spain.  So I suppose we’re both more attuned to thinking about educational systems and aware of pedagogical methods than many parents.

What frustrates you about traditional national curricula?

Through my learning about education, I found that to have the potential to succeed in life, and in school, you need more than the traditional approach based in IQ.  The IQ-competitive model of education has been demonstrated to be obsolete (it started life in the ‘60s).

For decades, a lot of emphasis has been put on certain aspects of intelligence such as logical reasoning, math skills, spatial skills, understanding analogies, verbal skills and so on. Researchers were puzzled by the fact that while IQ could predict to a significant degree academic performance and, to some degree, professional and personal success, there was something missing in the equation. Some of those with fabulous IQ scores were doing poorly in life; one could say that they were wasting their potential by thinking, behaving and communicating in a way that hindered their chances of succeeding.

After researching which pedagogical models emphasise concepts of emotional intelligence, social intelligence, and multiple intelligence and take them into consideration in devising a learning programme, I discovered the Waldorf education as an optimal model.

Why did the Waldorf model strike you are a more enlightened educational option?

Julian & Deirdre's daughters with friends at their Waldorf School in Spain

We did some analysis of various European models of education, from personal interest, and discovered some illuminating facts. The EU’s Cost of School Failure report, 2007, places Malta at the top of the European Union league table in terms of school failure rates, at 41.6 per cent. That is, children who do not complete school leaving exams or fail to stay in education beyond the statutory minimum age. Finland ranks the best performer both in the ‘Cost of Failure’ report and in another study, the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), looking at the proficiency of students in core subjects – maths, reading, sciences.

So, we asked ourselves what Finland was doing that could lead to it ranking number one. I looked at their educational model and saw similarities to Waldorf pedagogy. Finland has other special factors of course contributing to its overall educational success: the high professional standing of teachers; free pre-school places; a lack of emphasis on the competitiveness in education, and more.

We visited a Waldorf school in Spain and I liked very much what we found. Since placing our three-year-old girls in a Waldorf school in Spain, we have been amazed at the excellent education they are receiving and notice too how happy they are.

Now that we live half the year in Malta, we’d like to see our daughters having the possibility of receiving this model of education here too.  I also think that Maltese people and other foreigners living in Malta should have more options when it comes to choosing the type of education they would like to have for their children.

In brief, what is the Waldorf approach to education?

The key to Waldorf is its premise that success is not about achieving certain scores and working hard, but that real success is much more about feeling good about yourself, being happy and optimistic, being able to enjoy healthy relationships, being fulfilled in work and having the capacity to enjoy the adventure of this fabulous life.  It supports children to develop their full potential as human beings.

It recognises that childhood is for children not little adults. Waldorf therefore encourages children to be able to play, explore, discover and discern their way to knowledge and understanding rather than sit at a desk and be fed information that may or may not actually serve them in life.

Dance, theatre, creativity and music are the natural ways that children engage in life when given permission to do so. They are core in the Waldorf ‘curriculum’ for example.

What steps are you taking to see about bringing a Waldorf or similar style educational model to Malta?

Step 1: Contacting parents interested in having this type of education for their children

Step 2: Defining a shared vision

Step 3: Defining a scope for the project, plan and schedule

Step 4: Drafting a budget for it

Step 5: Going ahead with the project.

These steps are not necessary sequential, indeed, once we’ve got a group of parents interested, we would already start actively looking for teachers and thinking about a convenient place to start the school.

How can anyone interested get in touch and participate?

Email me, Julián Sáez, at waldorfmalta@gmail.com.

Photo: Lucidtech

If anything sails the seas, it can fall prey to natural disaster or be felled by human error, or a combination of the two. Costa Concordia was off its scheduled course by sailing far nearer to the isle of Giglio, just off the Tuscan coast.  But it transpires that similar unscheduled routes in these waters had been plied before by cruise ships of the same size and class and just months before. Did navigational equipment fail to detect the rocks; did the captain ignore any automated warnings; did systems fail? There’s a vast amount of technical detail that the enquiries will plough through, quite apart from eye witness accounts. Nothing is clear cut.

History is littered with such seafaring tales. Recently, there was news that the original H.M.S. Victory of the British Navy (the predecessor of Admiral Lord Nelson’s ‘Victory’) is to be salvaged from the seabed in the English Channel around 100km off where it was thought to have sunk in 1744.  For nearly three centuries, naval history had cast doubt on its commanding officer’s ability to navigate, saying that the ship was well off course when it sank in a storm near Alderney.  Found around two years ago by the Odyssey Marine Exploration team, the wreck lies where the course was set and some 300 years of rumour about the ability of its commanding officer, Admiral Sir John Balkin, are now laid to rest.

Who knows how history will judge this tragedy.  But there is one aspect of the affair that is understandable, particularly is you live on small islands yourself.  The Costa Concordia’s unscheduled, and this time allegedly unauthorised route close to Giglio, was apparently in order for the ship to ‘salute’ a former colleague who lived on the tiny island.  The folk of Giglio, an isle of some 700 houses, would probably all have felt a kinship with the Costa Crociere liners. One of their own had been a crew member.  How proud then to see a Costa liner in full glory, lights ablaze across the water, larger than life and nearer to home than usual.

Anyone who’s seen the giant cruise liners almost on eye level with the Barrakka Gardens in Valletta or seen them enter or leave Grand Harbour, deep sonorous siren sounding, will feel a frisson of excitement – however many times you’ve witnessed it as a resident here.  The feeling that the cruise ships ‘belong’ here, to us, and are part of the life blood of Malta runs deep.

Malta too often celebrates it locals who’ve made it out there, internationally; those who’ve hit the bigger time. We can understand, if not sanction, Captain Schettino’s deviation on the night of the 13th, that was intended to show that even in a cruise industry dominated by two megalithic international players, there’s still a local heart to the business.  No wonder then that some reports show Giglio residents deeply shocked – it’s not a tragedy that happened to play out on their island, it’s a tragedy in which they all feel they share, deeply.

Photo: courtesy of Robert G. Henderson

What we’d like to see more and less of, over the next 365 days of living and working in Malta:

LESS

1. Dictat.  We had enough medieval discourse during the divorce referendum to last us a lifetime.  Now you know it doesn’t work.

2. Polarisation.  Indeed, wishful thinking, in a year which is likely to feature a general election.  We live in the hope that politicians understand that their power is dependent on a few thousand people who choose to exist outside entrenched blue / red camps and decide, every five years or so, who can best represent their interests, and those of the nation.  Those decisions are based on manifestos and track records, rather than favours and networks.  Underestimate us at your peril.

3. Fear.  Of retribution.  Of online and offline surveillance.  Of doing anything.  We thought that kind of fear had been consigned to the dustbin of history.  It hasn’t.

4.  Insularity.  If the most recent referendum was about the secular state, and ‘tradition vs the modern’, it’s about time we woke up to some facts.  We are small but part of a larger economic bloc, use the Euro and hence open to international economic disruption, lack the critical mass for revolutions or Eurovision wins, and are pretty much irrelevant on the global radar unless Libya erupts again.  And that doesn’t mean we want a nanny state either.

5.  Complacency.   In the virtues of our so-called fourth estate.  In believing our education system is world-class.  What used to work in the 20th century is not good enough to help our kids navigate the world we will bequeath them.  And truly participate as global citizens.

MORE

1. Music.  Just tune into Toni Sant’s Muzika Mod Iehor every week and you will wonder at the wall of beautiful sounds the kids are producing.

2. Digital literacy.  This is not some intellectual call to arms.  It’s about taking stock of how we interact with online information and how we need to organise ourselves as life-long co-learners.  And help our kids acquire some much-need critical thinking skills.  My recent TEDx talk is here.

3. Culture.  Yes, that sounds elitist and even misplaced in view of the over-zealous policing and pathetic attempts at censorship we’ve seen in recent years.  Yet there is much that we can celebrate, explore and nurture.  From a return to thinking theatre to the creation of spaces for artists – including those working in a garage or a box room somewhere.

4. Debate. We don’t care whether it happens in the living room, a blog, on Facebook or in the classroom.  You too have a voice.  You too count.  Don’t just rely on intermediaries.

5. Tolerance.  For the marginalised, the alternative, even for views that may initially rankle with yours.  If we truly wish to promote the notion of a modern society, we have to accept that we are not a homogenous society.  Diversity is something we should now start to celebrate, not ignore or stifle.

May you have a good new year.  And as always, good health to you and your loved ones.

Picture:  Leslie Vella

I stood outside the Asmiov Robotics tent. I felt at home, a grown-up robotics playground called the hi-tech EXPO in Milan, that ran from the 14th till 19th December, and hosted some of the leading technology companies in the world; in total, over 140.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) is an amazing place. It’s where hypertext, the fax machine, cancer-causing genes and the GPS were invented. In Milan, they were showcasing their WIMAX wireless energy transfer technology. It can launch energy, without the need of wires, through two metres of air. The technology works because of coiled magnets present in separate devices but which resonate with each other. Place a table in the way of this energy, no problem, WIMAX gets through it without a fuss. Concrete? Not an issue for WIMAX.

I stood there gob smacked, watching a grainy skype video image as an MIT scientist powered an LED bulb using a WIMAX energy source located a metre beneath a table. Their vision is to bring these energy transfer devices to your wireless homes and to embed them in concrete to charge your electric car, whilst parked. MIT has several patents in this technology, it could make millions, and it also has over 3,000 PhD students.

From a small town in Italy, I talked to Laura Margheri, a PhD student in Bio Robotics. She was developing a soft robot based on an octopus. The robot was flexible, made out of silicon and could grasp an arm. It’s still in development, but once complete it could scour the sea floor monitoring the state of the environment, studying marine life and crawling through pipes to find blockages or leaks.

Malta wasn’t to be left out of this exhibition, with local company SIB Laboratories Ltd exhibiting therapeutic Russian space technology. They are bringing this technology to hospitals through collaboration with a number of organisations including the Russian Academy of Sciences, Fondazione Salvatore Maugeri from Italy, and the University of Malta.

SIB Laboratories Ltd is adjusting the Regent™ suit and Korvit™ foot simulator to bring to a hospital near you. The Regent™ suit is purely mechanical having straps, belts, and elastic cords that put pressure on your body when you move around. It was developed for Russian cosmonauts to prevent bone and muscle loss at zero gravity. On Earth, Russian scientists claim it can speed up recovery after brain injury or stroke.

The Korvit™ foot simulator is an incredibly simple machine having two rubber balloons on each foot through which air is pumped. The balloons inflate that are meant to make your body feel like you’re out for a stroll when lying on a hospital bed. They claim it can get stroke patients on their feet in half the time. Now, a local team led by Prof. Kenneth Camilleri are studying this equipment, if validated and improved, these technologies would be a powerful and economical way to treat patients.

These amazing projects show the benefit of funding PhD students. Malta is tapping into EU funds (University alone has received over £40 million), but we are not tapping into our brainpower.  Pushing businesses to fund PhD students would finally start turning Malta into that fabled catch phrase: a knowledge-based economy.

Supporting PhD students to do research is the most cost-effective way for companies. PhD students do not cost much, I did a PhD in Edinburgh and used to earn £12,000 per year, local students normally get less, a similar price in euros would extract the best young minds in Malta for the project. A PhD lasts 3–4 years, so in total it would cost around €36,000–€48,000. The benefits are a patented discovery that can be sold.

Are there any other costs? Perhaps equipment and materials but nothing extensive, the University of Malta has recently upgraded a lot of its facilities, companies simply need to support the hands and brains to use them.

PhD students are also highly motivated because they have to publish articles or create patents to move forward in their careers. They often work beyond a 9 to 5 job, for example while researching in Edinburgh I regularly worked 10 hour 6-day weeks, because I wanted to succeed. For companies, this drive implies a potentially high return, at low risk.

Malta will never attract the near US $10 billion endowment that graces MIT (our GDP comes in at around $8 billion), however we could attract a lot more money to support our best minds. They can be attracted to remain or come back to Malta, instead of being lost to the ever perpetual brain-drain to Europe, USA and Australia.

About the Author
Edward Duca has a PhD in Genetics and currently exploring the world of science writing and communication. He thinks that science is not just for himself, but for everyone to enjoy and inspire. Find him on his blog, ‘An Unexpected Science Nugget.’

1. Our churches come into their own during funerals. Statistically, Malta is close behind the Vatican in terms of number of churches per square km. If you live in the shadow of one, like I do in Siggiewi, you soon learn to live with the mournful toll of the 8am or 3pm funeral bell. Funerals are part and parcel of village life. Here, funeral corteges have taken to parking next to the statue of St Nicholas in the middle of the square, so that the pall-bearers can carry the flower-covered coffin up the square and up the stairs of the church. It’s like a Fellini movie every day, to the backdrop of the lady selling fish in the morning and the OAPs outside the band club in the afternoon. Without the regular conveyor belt of mourners and dead people, my village would lose much of its ‘village life’ and pjazza conversation pieces. And the church would lose a tad of its sense of importance, even to those who do not regularly show up for the Sunday service.

2. We love marble plaques.The quality of Maltese driving is such that Maltese roads regularly take their toll. Although the traffic fatality rate per head of population is still in line with other countries, you simply cannot ignore the ubiquitous marble plaques, photographs and candles on the road side. In my childhood, there was a black spot on the Burmarrad road that literally seemed to have run out of wall space for the plaques. I remember closing my eyes and shivering every time my father drove past it. We take a morbid delight in remembering our loved ones where they came to a sudden end. In technicolour shots and weatherproof marble. Unbelievably, we even emigrate with the concept of the plaque. There’s one at a major road intersection on the outskirts of Portsmouth, UK, and the name on it is Maltese.

3. We love obituaries.Yes, every nation has its columns in its national rag. But we also have the morning Radio Malta solemn announcements of the newly-departed, replete with the same screeching violins that used to scare the living daylights out of me as a kid. The only thing that has changed is that the guy who used to read the obits has himself passed away and been replaced by more dulcit female tones. Definitely one to be avoided.

4. We have the Adolorata Cemetery. We choose to locate our national cemetery in Marsa, right in the middle of the most urban part of Malta, home to the giant roundabout and its intersections. A place replete with huge conifers straight out of The Omen, a city of red candles by night and busy trade in flower merchandise by day. The last prayers are said to a dull hum of diesel engines and screeching brakes. I always thought that everybody’s hotel needed to be relocated somewhere more serene and green. Sadly, it’s too late for all of that.

5. We love our black hearses. Until a few years ago, you could be on your way to your last your journey in a 1950s number with a number plate RIP007. It took some lobbying to explain to the undertakers that mixing James Bond with eternal peace is not quite a cocktail made in heaven. In 2008, Government’s attempt to break the undertakers’ cartel was met by a nation-wide strike by buses, mini-buses and taxis on the basis that this was ‘the first step at abolishing monopoly in all sectors of public transport.’ Now, the ubiquitous ‘RIP’ has now been replaced by the more discrete acronym:’HRS’. (For an explanation of Maltese number plates, click here).

But, for all our addoration of rituals for the departed, we, the living, can only speculate as to whether they are a grateful dead.

The last ride as it used to be. Old-style Maltese hearse.

Photo top (undertaker): Alex Grech
Photo bottom (old-style Maltese hearse): courtesy of the late Chris Booth, with special thanks to Gillian Marshall for kind permission to reproduce it here.

We start priming our school leavers that life will see them change job and shift careers and not just through downsizing, but because it’s essential they do so to fulfill their potential and because it’s the new norm. Actually, in Malta, the ability to shift and adapt has long been the norm.

Malta has a workforce particularly adept at flexible working, or being ‘Jacks of all trades’. It comes with the territory – literally. The small scale of Malta’s land mass and its small population (edging to 410,000) means that we have to seek within our ranks people capable of almost every job, role and specialism. Similar samples of 410,000 in regions within larger countries might of course not produce the people for the jobs.

We love the amateur; it’s part of nationhood. No one blinks an eye if we’re found one minute panel beating and respraying a car and the next we’re fielding a side for Malta against Croatia. Footballers are part-time, and our theatre is produced, promoted and performed by local ‘amateurs’ in the main. We enjoy the sports’ scene and cultural endeavours none the less, and perhaps all the more, because they are in theory amateur activities seeing the participation of the boy or girl next door.

This is not in any way to say that the nation doesn’t have an incredible pro talent base; it does. We’ve spawned world-class tenors in Joseph Calleja; world brands in Edward de Bono; and world sport personalities in Tony Drago. Malta also excels in professionals – lawyers, surgeons, accountants, architects and so on. Everyone here knows a bright young graduate who’s moved abroad for a fast-track career with an EU institution or is excelling in further, tertiary education.

The creative industries are seeing a release of talent on the islands in the likes of film maker Rebecca Cremona and multimedia visual arts creatives such as Cedric Vella, both of whom have won awards overseas. Ditto for upcoming writers in the Maltese language.

But there are people in Malta who simply have to double up at two or more roles. With salaries low compared to our EU neighbours (around a third lower in most cases, if not half), some find they have to make ends meet by doing two or more jobs. I know of a hospital IT worker who is a waiter at night and weekends; a policewoman who is a hairdresser when off duty; and a mum who is an ‘independent media production professional’ when time allows. I also know a good handful who I’d consider pro status photographers but who can’t make ends meet by following their creative talents so do various day jobs. The country can’t support the talent pool it has, so some leave, inevitably.

While we accept and need the services of the hairdresser-policewoman, enjoy and applaud the roles of the amateur actor and empathise with the odd-jobbing waiter, there are sectors in which amateurism may be masquerading as professionalism and which deserve critical appraisal. Politics and journalism are two key areas to ponder.

The social media age, which has brought more voices to bear, more scrutiny and more opinions to the fore, and less mediated commentary has also been the era in which we’ve seen more enquiry into the ethics and practices of these two fields; institutions which run and relate the day-to-day workings of the nation. The current war of words and now libel proceedings involving two news media, The Times and Malta Today, so-called upholders of the fourth estate, show that the media outlets themselves are now at the centre of the debate about professionalism vs amateurism. But they’ve entered the debate late in the day, because the populace has always known of and well understood the role of the amateur in Maltese society.

Photo: courtesy, Leslie Vella.

‘Rolling’

David as an Iraqi soldier

From day one, the extras were advised not to approach the film director, Lee Tamahori, apparently because he’s renowned as not being too easy to deal with. One day after lunch, while the extras were walking back towards the set, I tested the crowd marshals’ instructions and went close to Tamahori, asking for a picture. He firmly replied, “No way!”

A friend of mine, who was working at the hotel where the film crew was staying, shared some impressions. The film crew were overly authoritative and quite pretentious at times. Lee Tamahori seemed a very quiet and shy person to talk to. The director, on his arrival, told the hotel staff: “My next job will be producing a film, so, if I need extras, I’ll be sure to let you know”.

‘Background action’
On set, one of the extras who is an avid film enthusiast told me that Lee Tamahori is the son of a Māori. Another interesting fact is that the director started his career working his way up from the bottom as a boom operator, then as a photographer, before gaining a foothold on the ladder in the film industry.

Tamahori is notoriously regarded by several film critics as the director with a bizarre behaviour who possesses “two personalities”. A murky affair in 2006 in a Santa Monica Boulevard and a resulting court case seem to surface when one Googles him. Nevertheless, on set, observing the film maker was really inspiring. He is one of the most creative film directors I have ever seen during my “extra” experiences. Tamahori is so hands-on, and his energy is outstanding and he really managed to pull all the crew together.

‘Quiet Please’
I got to know Latif Yahia, the real life body double of Saddam Hussein’s son Uday whose life was turned into a Hollywood film. When Latif returned to Malta, he brought me a signed copy of his autobiographical novel. Latif and I talked about the issue of how his birth land Iraq is portrayed in the media which gives a picture of an exaggerated hell on earth. Latif is very proud of where he comes from and of his origins. I enjoyed listening to him when he spoke to me about Iraq, which in ancient times was known as Mesopotamia, with its magnificent capital, Babylon. Latif Yahia emphasised that Iraq was once the cradle of civilisation.

‘Action’
Why is Dominic Cooper, who plays both Uday Hussein and Latif Yahia in the film famous? He rose to fame playing the character, Sky, in the film version of Mamma Mia! The Greenwich born actor, on set, was so down to earth, and his pleasant personality was prominent. What struck me most in Dominic Cooper was that stereotypical British sense of humour. Many times, between shots, he played sarcastic and funny jokes with his fellow actors and the film crew. Once, I asked Dominic Cooper for an autograph, and he ironically replied, “I’m not humble all the time but I’m not conceited, either.” Even though he was undoubtedly the star of the film, Cooper was always approachable.

‘Cut’
Having a male actor being portrayed as a sex object, even though male sex symbolism has been around since the beginning of the 20th century during the silent film era is not the norm. Generally, Hollywood’s films are characterised by sexual images of appealing women. Though, Dominic Cooper is somehow subverting this trend.

On several occasions I hung out with Cooper’s younger brother James and some other crew. Whenever we met Dominic Cooper, girls chased him wherever he went. Cooper will surely remember Malta for its vivid nightlife, and for the sun and the sea.

‘Coming Soon’
Working as an extra broadens the mind, in the sense that you meet people of different cultures, you are outside and not glued to a laptop, and it may open new doors….. Hence, I cannot wait until I get the next call: “Hello David, are you available to work as an extra on xxxxx film”? (Yes please!)

The author wishes to thank Jean Pierre Borg, Nigel Micallef and Keith Preble for helping with queries and proof reading.
Photos: courtesy of David Carabott. Top photo was taken on set in Pembroke.

Without much thought, I tweeted back:  ’No.. we’re in a goldfish bowl, blinking out.  Via our iPads and HDTVs, of course.’

I kept thinking of why the notion of protest and civil mobilisation is so far removed from the Malta we live in today.  It’s quite a Pandora’s box, worthy of study or a chat over a beer.  The 14 reasons I list below are neither mutually exclusive nor exhaustive.

1. There is nothing to protest about.  Malta is somehow managing to weather the global storm.  People still have food on their table.  We can watch the Rome protests on TV and the Internet without having to clean up the next day.
2. Civic protests are not part of our DNA.  We do complaints, not protests.  In the safety of virtual pjazzas, on social networks, in moderated Times of Malta comments section.  We complain to our work colleagues, families, even to the odd MP.  That’s what they’re there for.
3. Never again.  Some of us are old enough to remember real political strife and street violence.  That chapter in this country’s history is firmly closed.
4. Doing anything mildly edgy may be used against you.  Even sun-bathing in public can get the police ruffled.
5. Protests are for radicals.  Being radical gets a play banned, a writer taken to court, some kid on Facebook given a suspended jail sentence.  Deep down, we are a nation that is respectful of authority, hierarchies and institutions.
6. Everyone knows everybody.  Protest is about anonymity and critical distance.  We may not have the CCTV surveillance society of countries like the UK, but a small place has its own way of watching and magnifying your actions.  The chances are that before long  you are protesting about the activities of one of your own.
7. We lack critical mass.  2,000 people in Paternoster Square in London would proportionally translate into a family picnic at Upper Barrakka.
8. Walls have ears and the Internet has a permanent memory.  It’s bad enough with Facebook privacy settings and wondering if a friend has tagged you on a photo or put it on someone’s blog.
9. To protest, you need a culture of protest.  A non-hierarchical education system where a child feels comfortable to voice an opinion, question, discuss, debate and challenge without the covert (or real) chance of retribution.  We bring up our children to believe that life is safe and fair – but also to respect the status quo.  Someone else will take care of all that messy, political stuff.  Just keep your head down, get through your exams, get your stipend when you get to University and the rest will unravel.
10. We don’t have a financial district.  We don’t have cities, no foci for urban discontent.  There is no tangible local institution to blame for the global financial mess.  We are more interested in complaining about why the new bus service does not work, and finding someone to blame for it.  Blaming a politician in public can give rise to all sorts of conspiracy theories.
11. We have enough on our plate, thank you.  We have turned partisan conflict into a work of art.  Red and blue, those who are ‘with us’ or ‘against us’.  Even our so-called fourth estate – the ‘independent, non-partisan, non politically-aligned, non politically-owned media’ is at war with itself.  Why bother with hippies singing songs outside Wall Street or burning tyres in Montecitorio when there is so much fun on our own doorstep?
12. We don’t advocate anger.  Protests need commitment, dedication, organisation, community.  We have the Church and the political parties for that sort of thing.
13. We don’t pretend to have a world view.  You need to have one to protest.  Yes, we’ve protested about censorship, Libya and animal rights but we know how far we can go.  If you don’t like it, you can always go and protest somewhere else.  We’re part of the EU, remember?
14. We all aspire to being the 1%.  We educate our children to do just that.  Why complain because of a momentary blip in a system that is embraced everywhere – from China to the US?  We may be small and irrelevant on the world scale.  But we are equally sly, resourceful and never humbug.

Photo: courtesy, Robert G. Henderson

Malta's schools start back after summer - finally!

Malta is back to school. I’ve just spent three hours labeling school books, pens, bags, drink bottles and you name it, anything that can and will be lost or mislaid. At the 11th hour, I discovered I had to mend a school shirt minus buttons that have vanished somewhere over summer… and now, nearing midnight, I’ll be making the dreaded ‘No, I don’t want sandwiches’ lunch box.

There’s nothing so far in my preparations for back to school that’s so very different from those parents anywhere in Europe face. But, hang on, yes, there is a one glaring difference – I’ve had a month more than many of my European counterparts to get to grips with book lists and buttons. Because Malta gives its kids a whopping three months summer holiday; this year’s was 13 weeks +. The holidays are so long in Malta that it’s been known for some teachers to get seasonal jobs as cabin crew  - Air Malta’s difficulties have no doubt put paid to that little earner this summer.

My question to Malta’s educational powers that be is why, oh why do our kids go back so late when countries equally as hot have their school kids at their desks from early September?  Only one school in Malta I know kicks off at the beginning of September, because it follows the International Baccalaureate curriculum and needs to. It copes.

The answer, I am told by a man in the know, is that a collective agreement with teachers a good few years back, if not decades ago, has enshrined this three month vacation.  Teachers got a good deal and there isn’t any indication this situation is likely to change for years. Meanwhile, we all know, educationalists too, that the short school year, among the shortest in EU countries, means our children have to cram, cram, cram to get through the curriculum. The tradition has put paid to a more paced development for our children, both social and academic. Some would argue that the summer holidays more than compensate and that not all learning is done in class. But Malta has a very traditional, exam-led system that puts a lot of pressure on kids. Alternative or more imaginative learning is not order of the day. And parents tend to put pressure on children to perform, from very young ages too.

So, parents out there contemplating an expat move to Malta, be warned, especially if you are both working parents and don’t have convenient family around to lend a hand with childcare.  Summers are long, very long. Not just hot!

Today, I celebrate the return to school but incredibly so does my son; even he says three months is a long time, and he’s keen to get back to see friends and have some structure and routine.

Perhaps that’s the lesson in all this. Malta’s long summer holidays prevent the “whining school-boy, with his satchel…creeping like snail unwillingly to school” (to quote Shakespeare’s As you Like it‘). And to steal from Shakespeare again, you could say there’s method in this madness after all.

Addendum: apparently Bulgaria sees 16 weeks school summer holidays! And the UK’s kids aren’t ‘Uber’ performers despite having the shortest summer holidays in Europe.

Is there anyone over 16 here?

Love it, hate it, wait eagerly to go there weekends, or wince at the thought of it, all Malta has a reaction to Paceville (pronounced ‘parch-i-ville’). Routinely billed as the heart of Malta’s nightlife, it’s either the place to be seen or a place to avoid, depending largely on your age and taste in night life. It has everything from clubs to gentlemen’s clubs and a casino, and an atmosphere ranging from tacky to cool. The four ‘s’ words are probably what most people of certain ages go looking for or chance across if they aren’t.

In these last weeks of peak summer 2011, we reflect on what this season has added to Paceville’s reputation. The past week alone has seen a flurry of news reports ranging from those detailing the latest incidents of violent behaviour on Paceville’s streets to businesses’ calls for a new structure – a ‘Paceville Agency‘ – to deal with the areas’ ills.

Somewhat in the minority are other voices complaining Malta is painting too black a picture of its top nightlife area.   Not good for tourism, they say.  I feel they do have a point there as many businesses in Paceville work hard to run a tight ship.  But most of us here in Malta are quite aware there’s a gaping void between glossy brochure speak and the reality of Paceville.

The area has enjoyed a meteroic rise to infamy this summer. Though some commentators say it was actually worse 30 years ago.  It’s a shame because there are good many excellent restaurants tucked away down its side streets which could attract more business. It has a Blue Flag beach and picturesque bays on its fringes too. But I know a lot of locals who simply won’t go near the area from May to September.

Older people (and we’re talking perhaps of 30 plus only here) say it’s full of teens.  Even by age 21, some locals have had it with Paceville (locally known as ‘PV’).  Here’s what Charlie (21) says about why people go to PV:

1. to get wasted.

2. to meet the same people over and over again. No interesting conversations take place there.. just useless, drunken chat.

3. to pull anything of the opposite sex,

4. because ‘there is nothing better to do’.

5. the weekend shows up and people simply feel like clubbing. There are still many who love the place because of that.

(Afterthought): It’s still very cheap to go out (especially if you’re a girl). There are no entrance fees to many of the clubs. It’s drawing ever younger people in: 14 year-olds go there supposedly accompanying their elder siblings.. and end up getting wasted themselves. By the time you get to 21, you’ve done it all and want to move on. Also, if you’ve done any serious travel yourself, you know that there is life beyond Paceville.

Verdict? Go there understanding what Paceville is, and you won’t be disappointed.

What and where is Paceville?

It’s a compact, urban peninsula between St George’s Bay and Spinola Bay and facing the inland residential area of Swieqi. It also has a large number of five-star hotels on its fringes. The St George’s Bay (newly-made) beach is considered Paceville’s local beach. Paceville life centres on Dragonara Road, Wilga Street, St. Georges Road and St. Rita Steps where clubs, bars, restaurants, snack outlets, discos and more spill out into paved streets. It isn’t that attractive a place by day, but at night, it’s like Malta’s mini version of London’s Soho, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus – loud, brash and in your face.

Facilities: police are present and increasing in numbers; taxi ranks in main square; Wembley’s, a well-known taxi & mini-bus firm, is just five minutes walk from central Paceville. Minibus services to most outlying towns and villages operate till the early hours. Taxi sharing also possible.

How to get there or more importantly, back:

Arriva runs a lot of night buses from St Julian’s.  Click here for the list of routes and times.  There’s some park and ride services too, which make life a bit easier if you’re driving.

Photo: Courtesy of Spacing Magazine.