Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to Malta, scheduled for April 17-18, is to celebrate the 1,950th anniversary of the shipwreck of St Paul (Malta’s patron saint) on the islands in A.D. 60. Malta will be his 14th trip overseas since becoming Pope and makes an ideal visit outside his home territory.

Malta is near (an hour from Rome); has a population that’s stated as being 98 per cent Roman Catholic, and is guaranteed therefore to give him a vociferously warm welcome; is safe (little likelihood of the allegedly deranged leaping barriers to have a go at him); and it has a history steeped in defending the faith (as home to the Knights of St John for around 250 years).

There are also the benefits of Malta that most tourists enjoy – Malta’s compact size means the Pope, according to his published programme, will pass through some 33 parishes (just under half the total). The Popemobil won’t stop in all of course. During the visits of Pope John Paul II (1990 and 2001), many parish priests were disappointed, to put it mildly, as all they saw of the Pope was a papal wave from a rather high-speed Popemobil. Allegedly too, local legend has it, nuns were known to have used rather interesting methods to get to the front of the crowd during previous papal visits.

No doubt Pope Benedict’s trip will provide years’ worth of anecdotes along with memories of his astute addresses and the solemnity of religious ritual, handshakes with the President and blessings. Leaving aside the logistics, you’ll come across mumblings about the Pope’s visit. The Vatican has said that the Pope’s visit will be a time to reflect on and deepen the Christian faith. Here’s a round up of some issues minorities would like the Pope to reflect on in Malta, but on which he is he is unlikely to:

Interfaith Dialogue: When the Pope visits Britain later this year, interfaith dialogue will have to be on the agenda given the recent schisms in the Church of England and the multi-faith make-up of the UK. But, in Malta, with a solid 98 per cent (not all practising of course) Catholic, his agenda setters see no need to bother with it here, despite calls from Hindus and Jewish leaders across the world for him to urge Malta to have greater moral responsibility towards minority faiths on the Islands. The minority will just have to let the show go on. But, we should reserve judgement till we hear the Pope’s addresses, though it seems he will play to a home crowd only.

Religious equality under Maltese law for minority faiths: Linked to the point above, is a similar call by influential spokespeople of other world faiths for the Pope to urge Malta to treat all religions and denominations equally under its laws. Malta’s Criminal Code reportedly makes one liable to imprisonment up to six months for publicly vilifying the “Roman Catholic Apostolic Religion”, while committing such act against “any cult tolerated by law” makes one liable to imprisonment for up to three months.

Teaching of comparative religion in Malta’s schools: While religion is not a compulsory subject in the curriculum, there are those who feel religious teaching in Malta’s schools should include information about all world faiths, not solely the dominant Catholic religion. Children get a lot of Catholicism from their upbringing, family and parish yet have no formal way of being introduced to the teachings of other world faiths in the spirit of understanding, broadening horizons, tolerance for other’s beliefs and so on.

Pope Benedict’s 13 journeys to date have been tailored to national situations. Malta, with its homogeneity of faith, doesn’t require him to raise these issues. Both fervent Catholics and the less so will be living in hope then for the Pope’s visit. One group may be more disappointed than those parish priests who missed John Paul II – at least they got a brief wave. The minority voices here most likely won’t even get a cursory nod in their direction.

Photo: Gethin Thomas

In Brazil, they have a word called ’saudade’.  Literally translated, it stands for ‘longing.’

It’s inevitable that there are more people of Maltese origin living away from Malta than on the islands.  They’re increasing by the day, as young people maximise on the opportunities that an EU passport offers and leave in search of work, adventure and fulfilment in the bigger world. It’s a positive thing, and brings renewed energy and much-needed new ideas when some of these people trickle back to the country.

There are two events that bring migrants from the UK and mainland Europe back to Malta in their hundreds. The first is national or EU Parliament elections, with the unique Maltese practice of hugely-subsidised airfares on Air Malta as an incentive for Maltese citizens based abroad to come back and cast their vote.  The second is Christmas. You only have to log on to Twitter or see the status on Facebook pages for signs of the Maltese version of ’saudade’ and sheer expectancy as migrants get into countdown mode to reconnect with family and old networks. Luqa airport these days is a traffic jam of tears, squeals and trolleys piled with over-sized luggage.

So for the next 10 days or so, the islands will echo to the migrant tribes. You will find them congregated in huddles in old friends’ homes, in village bars, in organised parties in expensive venues.  Eating too much, drinking too much, blinking at the Malta they left behind with new saudade eyes.

Picture:   Kris Damato

On 29^th October, the Rector of the University of Malta banned the publication of Ir-Realta’, a student magazine, and reported the editor, as well as the writer of a piece within its covers, to the police.  The ban triggered a national debate about censorship and freedom of expression:  our view was (and remains) that this was yet another side-effect of the smallness of the nation.  On the 4^th December, the Rector wrote in a national newspaper to explain his decision and students held protests on the University campus on the same day.

Andrew Galea, a University student and writer, wades into the debate with his personal opinion on the matter.

Isn’t it fair to say that people expressing opinions in public should do so responsibly?  And that they should disseminate their messages having considered their audiences carefully?

So far, these question have been lacking in discussions on the censorship of Alex Vella Gera’s  ‘Li Tkisser Sewwi’, published in the student magazine Ir-Realta’. The debate should not be focusing on the piece’s literary worth – that is purely subjective – but rather on the propriety of publishing so graphic a story in a freely-accessible journal.  It worries me that no one seems to have picked up on this.

There are specific reasons why films are age classified.  And it doesn’t take a background in psychology to appreciate the effect of so vivid and colourful a story as ‘Li Tkisser Sewwi’ on young minds.  This is why such material is legally designated in most countries as unsuitable for dissemination to those below the age of 18.

The argument of the editor of Ir-Realta’, for whom I have a tremendous respect, is that he has ‘never seen a child roaming about university campus’.  I find his argument falls short.  If, by child, he means primary or middle school students, then I too have only seen children in the context of school excursions to the university library, or science week on campus, or being walked from the crèche.  However, he appears to exclude the prospective sixth form students and occasional secondary student, who are usually below the age of 18. Quite apart from this though, I believe that Ir-Realta’ is distributed at Junior College.

However, this is more than an issue of age classification, because, in any case, the appropriate classification for such an article can be disputed; some might say 18, some 16.  The point is more that no effort at all was made to give readers advance warning of the nature of the story in the now infamous Issue 8.

I have read most of Ir-Realta’s publications keenly, enjoying intelligent and thought-provoking articles and opinions. However, I was surprised by the unusual inclusion of a story like this.  It is not something I am accustomed to reading in Ir-Realta’, and not something I would necessarily look to the paper to provide.  Given this, it’s not hard therefore to imagine someone putting it down inadvertently on the kitchen table, not having read the piece in question, and then have a younger sibling pick it up and read it.

Bizarrely, those arguing against the banning by the Rector of Issue 8, have drawn comparisons between their case and the censorship of Unifaun theatre’s production ‘Stitching’, written by Anthony Neilson, as well as the arrest of the person who created and projected weird visuals at a party, and a man arrested for impersonating Jesus at a Nadur carnival.

The parallels fail most prominently because of the reasons for the censorship. In the case of ‘Stitching’, we have a play that was not even properly read by the censors, and was thus banned on ignorant, ridiculous grounds.  With regards to the young man sentenced to six months prison with a fine for his visuals of the Pope and then of a naked woman, as well as the man arrested for impersonating Jesus at a Nadur carnival, we have cases of censorship that are at worst akin to fundamentalism and at best just downright humorless.

I would conclude by saying this to those incensed by the perceived censorship of Ir-Realta’ and everyone else jumping on the whole anti-censorship bandwagon:  your right to freedom of expression is indeed sacred, but so too is the right of others to be warned in advance that some of what you say or do may be offensive.  In short, would it have hurt so much to offer an explanation or an age classification sticker with the story?the unsuspecting public – particularly youths.

Photo: Albireo

It seems to be the most obvious thing for an island that has in its past functioned as a colony and has lived off tourism for the last half century, that people from across the world wash up here. To their surprise, many stay far longer than they intended. However, in the past five years or so, there seems to be a far greater influx of people who are choosing to move here for work and play. EU statistics out earlier this month showed that Malta’s population rise in the past year was mainly attributable to migrants (of various kinds).

We’re now 414,000 people in all. So, we’ve taken a stab at an anthropological view of the new Malta tribes, in no particular order:

1. Returned Maltese migrants. Nothing new in this. The Maltese have been emigrating since the 1950s, and some trickle back when they hit their silver years. The older ones tend to be the most patriotic. Someone in category 6 below once told me: ‘You guys always seem to have a quiet alarm bell, when you are living away from Malta. It’s mumbling ‘Go back home.’ It just gets louder the older one gets’. This is changing, of course, as many Maltese now choose to go and live in EU member states.

2. Online gaming company executives. Malta saw a niche in the online gaming sector a few years ago and set up EU-endorsed legislation that enables online gaming companies to operate from this country on a pan-European basis. This has led to a veritable influx of senior and middle-management types – mainly Brits and Swedes – that took up residence in Malta without much knowledge of what was waiting for them. Many tend to congregate around Portomaso until they find their feet. Some are more intrepid though and are braving old farmhouses in village cores, probably seeing their stay as an adventure/or kind of extended holiday.

3. Tax-mitigators. People with access to bright accountants looking for a more tax-efficient way of protecting their earnings, levering on Malta’s double taxation agreements with several countries. If you’re a lone professional, you can elect to get your world-wide income taxed here if that income is generated elsewhere, and you choose to be resident in Malta.

4. Heritage lovers. What you get in Malta is world-class heritage, from pre-history to British colonial rule. We’ve found a few museum and arty luvvie types that fell for what they saw and stayed.

5. Divers. They live to dive so the move is for pure quality of diving life. They boast to friends back in their homelands that diving is just 15 minutes from their work place. We still think that Malta has some of the best diving around. Sailors too have moved here for similar sport-lifestyle reasons.

6. Consultants to Government. Not as significant in numbers as the days when Malta was preparing to join the EU, but you still meet a fair few people who are working on making the public sector and various government agencies more efficient.

7. Senior Telecoms executives. Now the three main telecoms companies are all in foreign hands, senior people have moved in.

8. Bankers. Same as 7 above, except that one Maltese bank lingers on.

9. Hotel & Catering staff. The five-star hotels ship them in to run the show, speak to customers in their native language. Always seem to be uncannily sun-tanned. One popular beach bar is manned entirely by foreign staff.

10. Footballers. Yes, we’re devoid of success in international football, but that hasn’t stopped the local teams from scouting for cheap talent – often finding footballers way past their prime and who might fit into some of the other categories here.

11. Call centre operators. Young people, primarily working on 24/7 shifts in online gaming and banking.

12. Timeshare touts. Mainly British, London boys or ‘from somewhere up north.’ You can spot them a mile away because they look friendly at 8.30 in the morning and give chase when some innocent old dears decide to have a leisurely walk before the heat sets in.

13. Dancers and ‘entertainers’. Usually permanently based in Paceville, but with some spillage in Bugibba and Qawra. Often from Eastern Europe.
‘
14. British and German retirees. They come for the sea and that flat in Bugibba or a farmhouse in Gharb, Gozo.

15. Love birds. Again, a fairly universal tribe who pack up on impulse to join their better half. They either go native and get crinkly skin or miss everything cosmopolitan, orderly and green, and start planning an exit route soon after their arrival. May take a lifetime to actually crystallise their departure. Married life, kids at schools and so on makes their departure almost impossible. They are nostalgic for life back home, but would never really return there.

16. Quality of lifers. Made up of several subgroups including dreamers and people fed up of Northern climates, commuting, the rat race, high house prices and various other ‘modern life is rubbish’ gripes. Can also cross-over to various tribes in this list. Can be of any age group.

17. Refugees and ‘illegal’ migrants. Their arrival has become one of the most most divisive topics on the island, but was inevitable once Malta joined the EU. Sadly, their plight tends to bring out the worst in a lot of people, and the best in a mere handful.

Photo: Walter Lo Cascio

Lord Byron was a futurologist when he said that Malta was ‘an island of yells, bells and smells’. Because 200 years on, it’s pretty much the same as he described it. And summer is the season that intensifies these infamous attributes of Malta.

We live cheek by jowl, so when we’ve windows ajar hoping to pick up some cooling breeze on sultry summer nights, we get a great deal more of the yells, bells and smells of the island outside our door.

Today, I started my morning at 06.30 in relative peace, except for the whirring of my neighbour’s aircon. By 06.45, the parish church was in full bell ringing mode, already, I might add, having heralded three masses since 04.30 (I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping through those really early bells).

Then, by 07.00, my other neighbour started up a petrol pump to get his well irrigation working so he can water his vast orchard. The fumes and noise disturbed my early morning coffee and reading time in my little patch of garden. A little later on, I heard the fish hawker yelling her wares from the village square (lampuki are now in season, I learned). By the time the sun was beginning to feel a bit warm for comfort, my resident garden cicadas had started up – and boy, aren’t they deafening (though an endearing a sound of summer).

So, Byron, your comments hit the mark even 200 years later. Here’s our Malta InsideOut list of familiar and traditional yells, bells and smells. Feel free to comment and add your own!

Yells (and other noise)

Cicadas – a true sound of summer
Street Hawkers – particularly fishwives with prams
Delivery vans blasting horns; chiefly bakers and gas delivery lorries.
Buses – very throaty roars. Drivers shout to each other from their cabs, apparently engaging in harmless chit chat.
Mobile discos in private cars – bass booming out
Workmen – wolf-whistles, and yelling ‘Ow ‘Chalie’ to each other across the street.

Bells

Parish church clocks which tell the quarter hours, 24/7
Incessant ringing at unidentified times – various lesser saints days, bell ringing practice
Festas and Easter (with Good Friday bells being clattered not rung!).
Petards and fireworks – we’ll include them here as they have religious connections and go with bells. Wherever you live, you get at least your own parish festa noise, plus that of around 3-4 other parishes around!

Smells

Sweet, sickly smell of confectionery, particularly at Valletta’s city gate/bus terminus where the smell of hot tarmac and diesel mingle with it
Sewerage/drains – always some vapour rising somewhere as you walk along.
Buses - diesel fumes spewing out
Stray cat and dog deposits emanating odours
Sea – particularly Salina direction
Fresh bread – nothing beats its steamy, tempting smell or the deeper smell of the burnt crusty bits
Pastizzi
The streets – after a long dry summer, the leached contents of months of garbage bags gives off a real sickly stench – we await the first rains to wash the stains and vapours away. Not long now!

Photo: Walter Lo Cascio

No, it’s not quite an oxymoron linking service with a smile in the context of Malta. We’ve been told time and again by tourism adverts, tourism policy documents, brochures and more that Malta’s friendly people make the islands a special place. Mostly that’s true – just not when it comes to dealing with customer service departments, of more or less any kind.

But, then along come pockets of exceptional personal service, and examples of people going way beyond the call of duty to lend a hand. Here’s a tale of two water services’ men who redeemed my faith in customer service. Water being an apt topic given that we’re at the close of a long hot dry summer and have not a drop to spare!

Public Service
A month ago, my mains water stopped, my water meter jammed and I suspected a major leak under the kitchen floor. So, it was time to call the Water Services Corporation, or rather use their ‘efficient’ online fault reporting. But, it took some time to get the online form to work, and then another day to have a call, from someone half asleep, to say ’someone would come’. When? Who could know?

Three days later, there was still no sign of service men and my water tanks were dangerously low. So I called. The number had never been answered in the past days, so I resigned myself to failure. It was 08.00 on a Saturday; not an auspicious time. But what a difference a day makes: my call was answered immediately by a chirpy man who said a serviceman would be on his way that minute.

And indeed, within 20 minutes he had arrived, in his own run-down car, with a boot full of the right gadgets for the job. This Water Services’ repair guy, whose name I never took, was God for me that morning. He was friendly, and full of advice on routing, joints, conduits, pressure and more, and did the work within an hour. Such a shame then that some of his office colleagues let him down.

From public sector, let’s turn to private sector.

Private Sector
My second special helpful ‘water’ person is someone I know of old – Mario, the bowser man. I call up Mario around four times a summer, anytime from May to September, depending on the severity and length of Malta’s summer drought months. Then, he goes off my radar all winter.

I am a fair-weather customer. Which means I am all the more pleasantly surprised each time I call him up last minute with a dried up well to see if he can come asap, and he says he can – usually that very day, or very early the next. Weekends, evenings, early mornings, 24/7 really, Mario is there to answer my prayers.

Mario isn’t any bowser; he has one leg, and that makes his manual labour all the tougher. In holidays, one or other of his many children help out. This year, it seems to have been a waif-like daughter who looks perhaps 15 at most. It’s not the sort of work that most teenage girls would be happy helping dad with. But probably Mario isn’t just any old dad.

Mario is the kind of person for whom service comes as second nature. He has never needed customer service training, or a ‘how to answer a phone’ course (which I am sure the half-asleep Water Services’ man at head office had).

Mario’s visit, which starts with his skillful reversing of an enormous lorry to the end of my alleyway, past parked cars and overhanging balconies, makes me feel good. He redeems my faith in human nature in Malta, and, of course, he helps me green my small plot of rock. He isn’t the face of Malta’s tourism (and we’ve had quite a few staff grace billboards and adverts over the years in tourism campaigns), but he’d get my vote for the people’s representative of Malta.

Smile Mario, you’re on camera! And heartfelt thanks….

When I moved to Sweden, I attended a lecture by a sociologist specialised in Swedish culture who gave some tips on how to better interact with and understand the inhabitants of my Scandinavian host country. The guy explained, for example, how a Swede finishes his sentences before another contributes to the conversation; a far cry from the Mediterranean style of having three people talk at the same time (hopefully on the same subject) within the same conversation!

Though no sociologist myself, I’ve attempted a list of certain common characteristics which I dare to say are Maltese.

Talking is shouting
When many Maltese people talk, they tend to be rather loud. Years back, I used to work as a group leader for Scandinavian kids learning English in Malta. On several occasions, these kids mistook a friendly conversation between two locals as a fight! I suppose the loud tone of voice, the vivid hand gestures and the occasional physical contact gave that impression. When in a conversation with a Maltese person who just doesn’t stop blabbering, it might be a good idea to interrupt them if you have something to say. They might actually be waiting for you to share the speaking duties! The average Maltese conversationalist won’t pause that often, so you need to create your own opening most times (unless you’re given an easy entry by being asked a question). Yes – we’re loud… but it’s all rather harmless (most of the time)!

Us and them
I get the feeling that Maltese people have a predisposition towards creating an ‘us and them’ scenario. Whether it’s the rivalry created by politics, football or even affection for a particular village festa or affiliation to a specific band club, the Maltese do tend to get rather clannish. The outcome of this ‘tribalism’ ranges from fun teasing and competition (such as with healthy football rivalries) to scenarios which are much less fun. Political and even festa or band club rivalries have tended to get way out of hand in the past. Nowadays, there’s also a sentiment of ‘us and them’ creeping in with relation to the presence of certain foreigners on the island.

Rules are there to be broken.
Many Maltese people seem to have a strange relationship with rules, sometimes closing an eye – or even two – in the process. This is positive when a person is given precedence over a rule in the name of common sense. It is less positive when people ignore rules and get away with it for their own selfish needs. Politicians tend to be major culprits on this last point. When driving, Maltese people tend to break the rules – though the extent of this ranges from person to person: some commit minor infractions, but others put lives at risk through their selfishness.

Families tend to be close to each other.
This is no doubt helped by the geographical proximity we share with each other. In recent years, the family bonds seem to be somewhat weakening but you will still find families meeting up rather often – and not just immediate family but also cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents. You will also find that there are less than the classical ‘six degrees of separation’ between people around here … many times just one degree suffices! This obviously has its advantages and disadvantages.

Wholly Roman Catholics?
According to the CIA World Factbook (no less), 98% of the Maltese population are Catholics. But while the Church still has a strong political influence on the country (we still have no divorce or abortion, for example), it has much less of an influence on people’s daily lives than before. And I get the impression that Church attendance among younger generations is declining. While older generations may still get scandalised by certain discussions and behaviours, the younger generations of Maltese are much less likely to do so. Nevertheless, they too are probably still somewhat more closed minded than their northern European counterparts.

In the end…
When you build a strong friendship with a Maltese person, it’s a friendship for life! So, despite the defects (and which culture doesn’t have any?) it’s worth making the effort to see through the differences and embrace what is positive in the Maltese.

Photo: Andrew Galea Debono

Despite Malta having a small population, it’s not unusual to stumble across a Maltese person in the most unexpected of places around the world. Perhaps the claustrophobia of life on a tiny island makes some get itchy feet and roam the world.

Having been on the move overseas working on international human rights issues, I’ve often found myself in the remotest of places yet even then, I’ve come across a Maltese person or someone who knows one. They say that there are six degrees of separation between every person on earth. At times like those, I think there are even fewer.

Once, I was on a secluded beach in northern Colombia. I had just come back from a conflict zone and decided to chill out a bit. Getting to the Tayrona area required a very long journey on some rickety buses. Once I got to my chosen secluded bus stop, I walked for about four hours and arrived at a beach. Without piped water and electricity, it was totally cut off from the world… or so I thought!

I met an Irish girl who was living in a nearby little village and when I told her I was Maltese, she said: “Yeah, I know a Maltese guy who lives in the nearby village of Taganga. He’s a diving instructor!” The guy turned out to be the son of a friend of mine who owns the bar next to my house in Malta. I’d once shared a hospital room with him after smashing my knee.

Another time through my job, I met a Maltese priest who was working in Burundi with the same humanitarian agency I was. While in Africa, he’d met a Maltese nun who was working in Tanzania – the sister of my mum’s best friend.

I was once in London for a meeting, and since I was working for a low-budget NGO, I decided to stay at the house of a former colleague; an Australian who’d worked with me in India. As I was preparing to go to the airport, an English friend of her flatmate walked through the door. During a brief chat, he said he was pleasantly surprised to find out I was from Malta, and told me he knew a Maltese person very well. It turned out his friend is the brother of a former class-mate of mine.

On a train in London, without me even opening my mouth, a little Maltese kid looked at me and told his mum: that guy looks Maltese! But how can a Maltese person be recognisable from other Mediterranean people without us even opening our mouths? Indeed, I can generally tell a Maltese person from a Sicilian or a Tunisian (our closest neighbours) – but somehow the only people I mistake for Maltese without them being so are the Lebanese. Perhaps our Phoenician roots are evident after all.

Maltese people are everywhere! And soon we may also have the first Maltese on Everest. It’s probably the only spot on earth never to have been set foot on by a Maltese person; but not for long!

Photo: Walter Lo Cascio