Carnival is long-embedded in Maltese folklore. This weekend, you get the chance to experience two different types of carnivals. You can go to Valletta or Rabat, in Gozo, for the organised, structured floats and dance programmes. Or you can head to Nadur, in Gozo, for the ‘alternative’, spontaneous carnival, which kicks off on the 12th February, and draws to a close on the 16th.

Around 10 years ago, the Nadur carnival was a well-kept secret. A little gem of a carnival, its charm stemmed from the silence of masked crowds in the streets of the village. The game was about disguise: grotesque masks or badly-daubed make-up, wigs, costumes from sheets or sack cloth, makeshift, disorganised parades often accompanied by farm-stock and carts. In the general attempt to avoid being recognised, the carnival often became associated with the absurd and often the bizarre: cryptic placards, coded messages to friends and foes. A silent carnival, a veritable masked street ball.

Things change. As the event’s reputation grew online and by word of mouth, it became the carnival to go to for a new generation of Maltese, possibly bored with the traditional fare served in Valletta and attracted to the edginess of the Nadur festival. The new influx of visitors was also a shot in the arm for anyone in the Gozo tourism and hospitality sector in the winter shoulder months. From a purely ‘Nadur’ affair, the carnival has become a very Maltese occasion. This weekend, boatloads of young Maltese will cross for the annual pilgrimage of masked fun, or a vulgar, alcohol-fuelled rave party, depending on which side of the debate you happen to be.

And as for debates about the carnival, they have raged and ebbed over the past twelve months. Although the carnival has a history of revellers dressing up as priests or nuns, last year Malta’s Archbishop Paul Cremona and Gozo’s Bishop Marco Grech issued a statement about the need to ‘recognise and respect religious and civil rights’. As things stand, the law does not allow people to wear ‘any ecclesiastical habits or vestments’ without permission as this constitutes ‘offending public order’. Malta’s laws also prohibit the use of words or gestures that vilify the Roman Catholic Church.

Soon after last year’s carnival, a 26-year-old was given a one month jail term suspended for 18 months after he pleaded guilty to dressing up as Jesus Christ during the carnival celebrations. Six people who dressed as nuns were acquitted after the court found the simple fact of dressing up as a nun, even if at carnival time, did not, on its own, amount to vilification.

The public backlash was not long in coming. A Facebook group was set up to encourage people to dress up as Jesus at this year’s Nadur carnival – it currently has more than 600 members. Last week, the Sunday Times confirmed that the Nadur local council and police were requesting to vet the lyrics of rock bands playing at the carnival ‘to eliminate offensive or vulgar language’. The furious online backlash from bloggers and pundits forced the police to swiftly issue a statement retracting their request.

Comedy or tragedy? Malta’s own version of growing up pains, of old power systems slowly coming to terms with the sign of the times? You only have to scan the content of this site about the carnival to get a sense that change is irreversable, and not necessarily for the better.

Whichever way you look at it, the Nadur carnival hovers somewhere between the past and the future.

More on the carnival on the Nadur Council site, on Facebook and on Flickr.

Photo: Courtesy of OBS1

Din l-Art Helwa is an NGO founded in 1965 to safeguard the historic, artistic and natural heritage of Malta. Here, Victor Rizzo, the treasurer of the organisation, kicks off a series about the key cultural heritage properties managed by the organisation in Malta, Gozo and Comino which are open to the public. This piece is about the ancient chapel of Bir Miftuh, which stands opposite Malta International Airport. Glance right as you exit MIA to catch a glimpse of it.

The Chapel of Santa Maria ta’ Bir Miftuh is an outstanding example of medieval architecture. Built almost 600 years ago, it saw the arrival of the Knights, was desecrated by the Turks during the Great Siege of 1565 and suffered bomb damage in the Second World War. Located in Gudja, it is one of the best preserved examples of a parish church of the 15th century. It was declared a parish in 1436 by Bishop Senatore de Mello and served as such until 1676 when the Parish Church of Gudja was built. It was never in the centre of a village but was had parish church status and served several villages.

The chapel is free standing and shows a growing confidence in the handling of stone structures. It is simple and austere in design, with fine pointed stone arches on which rest the long stone roof slabs. It has a plain rectangular plan and measures about 11 by 14 metres.

The chapel was originally larger and built in the shape of a cross. In the 16th century the rear end of the chapel was demolished and the stones were used in the construction of the present parish church of Gudja. An imposing belfry, a 16th century addition, perches proudly over the main doorway. No bells are in place. Legend has it that these bells were hastily buried in the soil during the Great Siege of 1565. They are still waiting to be discovered.

The altar was brought from another chapel and dates from the 16th century. The altar painting is on wood and probably belongs to the second half of the same century and depicts the figure of God holding a Crucifix surrounded by angels at the top of the panel. The lower part shows a hilly landscape with the Virgin and Child on clouds flanked by St Peter and St Paul.

Over the centuries the chapel suffered from neglect and lack of use. It was close to total collapse until the Ecclesiastical Authorities gave the chapel to Din l-Art Helwa in Trust in 1970. Restoration started in 1973 and was generously sponsored by Malta International Airport, which continues to support it to this day.

During restoration, the remains of a fresco covering the wall facing the altar were discovered under thick layers of lime. The fresco depicts the Last Judgment and is divided into three tiers of figures. The upper tier shows the Apostles and Mary with the figure of Christ in the centre. The figures below this tier represent Mary, a hand holding a sword representing St Paul, St James and St Andrew, St Lawrence, St Benedict holding a church model, Peter the Martyr, and possibly St Catherine holding the palm of martyrdom. The figures above this tier show a kneeling saint representing St John the Baptist, four unknown female saints, St Ursula holding a pike-staff and St Barbara holding a model of a round tower.

The second tier shows the damned being led away to the fiery pits of hell by demons with horns, tails and webbed feet. On the left side one can make out the wing of an angel and the back of one of the faithful being drawn towards God and the Virgin Mary.

The lower tier probably depicts the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. On the north wall, in the first bay, there is a picture of a woman, in a costume fashionable in the 16th century, holding a lily in one hand and pointing to the main altar painting with the other.

The frescoes were expertly restored and regular inspections are carried out. Further restoration involved the repair of all walls and a leaking roof. The floor laid in 1942 was replaced with globigerina limestone flagstones, and the exterior areas adjacent to the walls were paved. In 2004, restoration of the churchyard at the back of the chapel was completed.

The Chapel is an ideal setting for the Bir Miftuh International Music Festival held regularly in the Summer by Din l-Art Helwa since 1997. It is open for visitors the first Sunday of the month from 9.30 till noon.

For more details on Din l-Art Helwa, see the website or e-mail info@dinlarthelwa.org

With the countdown in days – or rather hours – to Christmas Day, our thoughts turn to shopping. But not the glitzy, swish designer and brand name shops that now dominate Valletta and Sliema’s main streets. We’re pausing in the Christmas rush to take a look at the far more mundane, work-a-day shops that cater to our local needs 364 days a year – the village bazaars.

The village bazaar is an Aladdin’s cave, not for all that glitters, though it’s bound to have all the Christmas paraphernalia in stock right now. The bazaar will stock just about any useful little thing a home and family could want – from everyday items like light bulbs, food containers, preserving jars, dustbins and plastic buckets, to seasonal goods like cheap plastic Xmas trees, fans (summer) and gas heaters (winter). It’s always the first to signal seasons changing. It may also offer dry cleaner services and do a good trade in bed mattresses, conveniently taking away your old one for free! It has shower curtains, cheap towels, buttons and cotton. Need a belt, shoe lace or hair grips? The Bazaar is the place.

The bazaar is often named after its owner; my first rented place in Malta when I moved here was (conveniently) next door to ‘Silvia Bazaar’ in the lower reaches of Zabbar. I didn’t mind her wares spreading across my frontage – I was a regular and she had everything I needed. My local one now is a corner shop that doubles up as the place for catching up on gossip about who’s died and what ailments people have. As the word ‘bazaar’ suggests, these shops are merely stone and mortar versions of a market place and certainly have a busy market feel to them. And as with most local shops, if you’re a regular, you can put things on the ‘tab’ or if you’re out of change, just pay a day or so later.

If you do live near a bazaar, try it first if you’re seeking something for the house. I almost drove to a large kitchen store the other day, but thought I’d just see if the bazaar had what I needed. And lo and behold it did! You might not be getting those special presents for nearest and dearest from the bazaar this week, but I am sure if you find your roasting tin for the turkey too small, you’ll be hot footing it to the bazaar round the corner. As always, it will be open mercifully late on Christmas eve!

Photo: Gethin Thomas

There are cultures that are finely-tuned with all things spiritual; others that relish the protestant work ethic and treat death as a mild inconvenience. And then there are the Maltese. We love everything about death. Here are five reasons for my assertion:

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 two 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.’ To date, the issue remains unresolved. But the ubiquitous ‘RIP’ has now been replaced by the more discrete ‘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.

We’ve lived in an old farmhouse in Siggiewi for the past 12 years. In Malta, you get people who would not contemplate the idea; and there are others who, like us, have moved to village life after years in big cities, or leafy suburbia.

There are many different views of what goes into making up Maltese village life, so this is just a snapshot from our perspective. If you’re new to Malta, our list can count as quick tips to living in a village with the minimum amount of hassle and on your own terms. If you’re an old-hand at village life, or a Malta local, then you may easily recognise some of these aspects.

1. Do say hello to the neighbours when you arrive. They will definitely know that you have taken up residence and have probably done some research into your family history, if you are Maltese. If you cannot speak Maltese, just smile. ‘Being seen to be friendly’ goes a long way.

2. Watch where people park their motors before you deposit your own prized asset in that empty place. Villagers can get territorial. Or they simply know the driving practices of others in the neigbourhood. My car lasted a full 4 weeks before someone crashed into it and drove off without ringing my bell.

3. Even if you cannot find anything you want from the village grocer, pop your head in there for the occasional carton of milk. Many of these have great, fresh stuff behind the counter, like gbejniet, bigilla and stuffed olives. You will also realise that queuing is not normally practised at the village grocer: conversely, you may sometimes be served first because of your ‘guest’ or foreign status. Go with the flow.

4. Accept the fact that every village has more than its fair share of weirdos. Ours include a priest who has persuaded the council to paint yellow lines in front of his door in our alley and erect signs advising drivers to park with their exhaust pipes facing outwards – in between bending other drivers’ mirrors and remonstrating with anyone washing a car in the vicinity of his house. Never underestimate the power of all things ecclesiastical in a village community.

5. Accept all forms of gifts and kindness. We are blessed by having people who come round with lemons, oranges and whatever is in season.

6. Ask for local help if you need some DIY done. There is always someone who knows someone. And in true word of mouth tradition, people will generally only recommend tradesmen they trust.

7. Do your research about your house locality before you move in. The haphazard layout of village core architecture means that you can easily end up living in the vicinity of neighbours you never knew you had who have pigs, goats, chickens and pigeons as pets. The building boom in this country also sadly means that ‘back-building’ in core village areas is still allowed.

8. Accept the fact that people are either incredibly kind or incredibly cruel to animals. Stray cats either get fed by batty ladies throwing fish over their roofs, or hounded by others who detest them. Another old lady across the road lived with over 100 stray dogs, till the day she fell and broke a leg and the whole village turned up to gawp at the police, fire-brigade and SPCA attempting to evacuate the place.

9. Be prepared for odd people banging on your door. For about six months, we had an old lady with a goat and shaggy dog in tow show up to sell us mainly rotten vegetables from her pram. Be polite, but firm.

10. When it’s time for the village festa, either join in the fun, buy ear-plugs or go on holiday if it’s not your cup of tea. For a solid week, for instance, our alley is transformed into an open air bingo hall, pizza parlour and venue for ‘local talent.’

11. Nothing helps as much as having a young child around to ‘get accepted.’ Our masterstroke was going down to the local council and asking for a recommendation for a child carer when our child was 1. Like many others we know, our child-carer Joyce is a substitute for the grandparents we cannot call upon to occasionally help us get a breather – and get our child to ‘integrate’ with what’s actually going on outside his door.

Photo: Walter Lo Cascio

Only around three per cent of Malta’s population is engaged in agriculture, but the fruits of its labour can be seen at any veggie cart or shop. Some traditional Maltese farming villages though, like Mgarr in the North and Siggiewi near the west coast have new-found fame for celebrating their long and much loved ties with the land: Mgarr holds its strawberry fair in May, and Siggiewi held an agricultural bonanza last weekend (13-14 June). Judging by the numbers of non locals at both events, it seems rural life is becoming more in vogue, even among the town dwellers.

Siggiewi’s now annual agricultural fare kicks off on the Saturday evening at dusk and is a mishmash of a livestock show, heritage event and farmers’ market – and an excuse for local folk to get some air; it’s also a prelude to the villlage festa, just two weeks on.

The pageantry was a reenactment of the Grand Master handing over a falcon to Holy Roman Emperor Charles V as rental payment for the Maltese Islands. It was a charming cameo that enthralled the kids, as did another slice of history – the ancient threshing machine that took pride of place in the square. It rattled and hummed into action, man atop loading straw, and was soon spewing out chaff all over the gathered crowd.

A small tent housed old agricultural implements and canteen items that farmers would use in the fields to brew up coffee. In fact, you could see the brewing in action as nearby sat an old lady, in typical floral dress/apron, turning a coffee bean roaster over an open fire (see photo below). A stall next to her was serving the clove-flavoured coffee for free to an appreciative, and curious crowd.

The livestock on display was there mainly for the children to pet – Falabella ponies, donkeys, prize sheep and goat breeds, some with their young, and a lama – so nothing that would pull a plowshare. The next morning saw the ‘blessing’ of the animals at 08.30 (before it gets too hot), and some heavy horses on display (ah, something that would pull a plowshare!).

Both evening and morning saw stallholders selling some genuine local produce, including thyme honey, certified organic olive oil (impressively with an EU accreditation on it) and lots of peaches and tomatoes, which grow well in the Siggiewi area. The olive oil producer, Ta’ Zeppi, said he offered agri-tourism tours; best in autumn though when the harvest is in and being pressed.

It’s heart-warming that Malta is beginning to relish its rural past, and to see skills, crafts and genuine Maltese produce appreciated by young and old, and locals and visitors alike.

To glimpse rural life, even if you miss the various fares, try an open-top bus ride on a London-type, double-decker bus with MaltaSightSeeing. They leave from Sliema ferries (the main front), and do a southern and northern tour visiting villages and less touristy localities. You can hop on and off, wander round a village and get the next bus onwards.

They should be religious feasts, but they seem to be anything but! ‘Festa’ celebrations, as they are known locally, are a sacred tradition in Maltese culture and offer an incredibly singular adventure for the unsuspecting visitor to Malta. From mid June to late September, festas are held in most of towns and villages across the islands; some of the more traditional and colourful – in all senses of the word – are held in places not usually on the beaten tourist path.

In fact, summer in Malta and Gozo is jam-packed with village feasts. It’s hard to miss them. They have religious roots, but nowadays most have quite a strong social aspect to them; they are a focal point in the year for the local community to come together as one.

All feasts provide something for newcomer or festa veteran alike. Most incarnations of the festa include: decorated and brightly-lit streets; brass band marches; food kiosks and nougat sellers; petards and firework displays; local club discos; as well as a huge element of noisy celebration in the town or village’s crowded streets.

Granted, sometimes the only spirit present at these street parties is in the bottled form. The smell of beer pervades, adding to the convivial atmosphere. But, dare to thread your way into the thronging crowds, and you’ll chance upon some of the more vivid, local characters – and see them at their most animated on this, their one weekend-a-year opportunity to have fun – no holes barred.

There are usually a couple of festas every weekend throughout summer. The trick is to get to know where to go and when. Here is a short list of some major festas, but always bear in mind that these village celebrations start well up to a week before the finale weekend, which then ends up being sort of climax to all the previous partying:

• Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Zejtun – Third Sunday of June
• Saint George, Qormi – Last Sunday of June
• Saint Peter and Saint Paul (Mnarja), Nadur, Gozo – 29th June
• Saint Joseph, Msida – Sunday following 16th July
• Saint Sebastian, Qormi – Third Sunday of July
• Saint Venera, Santa Venera – Last Sunday of July
• Saint Gaetan, Hamrun – Sunday following 7th August (click on the festa name for this photo from Alan Paris which captures one exuberant festa!)
• Saint Lawrence, Birgu – 10th August

Photo: Gege Gatt. St Paul’s Shipwreck festa, Valletta, Feb.’09. It’s a winter ‘feast’, but we felt the photo summed up the spirit of all festas, and ideal for this introductory post.

I usually eschew stage-managed cultural or historical festivals. They tend to be put on for tourists and offer little for locals who don’t just want an excuse to waste time with the kids somewhere, or grab a beer and a take-away. But, I was pleasantly surprised by the annual Mdina Medieval Festival, held last weekend (18-19 April). It turned out to be a warm-spirited affair – damp, unseasonal weather aside.

Mdina, Malta’s medieval walled city, once the islands’ capital, was the ideal fortified backdrop to showcase crafts, sword-fighting, local produce and pageantry of yesteryear. More on those in another post, because the highlight of the day for me, friends and kids in tow, were the birds of prey and the falconry displays.

Two falconry outfits entertained us, flying several species of bird of prey in a make-shift arena in the ditch around Mdina: the Siggiewi Falconry Centre; and a falconry club, Fredericus Rex. We squatted down on our benches as the majestic birds swooped low overhead with precision accuracy, and so closely that we felt the air from their flight path on our hair. Both falconry teams ’set out their stall’ in squares in Mdina, so visitors could view the mighty talons of eagles, falcons, hawks and owls up close and personal; some children even stroked the less nervy birds, such as sociable harrier hawk.

Think Malta, and a lot of people think of The Maltese Falcon, the novel, by Daschiell Hammett, which was immortalised into a film noir classic of the same name starring Humphrey Bogart. Few realise that Malta has a more regal association with the falcon. When Holy Roman Emperor Charles V granted the Maltese Islands to the Knights of St John in 1530 after they were driven from Rhodes by the Saracens, he requested two Maltese falcons in annual rent: one for himself; the other for the viceroy of Sicily.

Malta was renowned then for best-of-breed peregrine falcons, and was, until the mid 20th century, still a place where they nested, albeit in meagre numbers, on Gozo’s Ta’ Cenc cliffs. But, instead of being prized as hunting birds, they themselves became hunted to near oblivion. The last resident pair was shot in 1980. It’s probably fitting then that the Maltese falcon of Hammett’s novel is a statue.

Little wonder then that the art of falconry died a death when the Order left Malta. It wasn’t practised again until the opening of the Siggiewi Falconry Centre in autumn 2007. In fact, the founder, Renee Scicluna, is an erstwhile hunter – ‘poacher turned gamekeeper’, so to speak. He and his wife Doreen, along with Matt Richards – a master falconer from the UK – dedicated family and a corp of newly-trained local falconers, have achieved almost the impossible with their professional centre and aviary on the outskirts of Siggiewi.

“I wanted to set something up that could help us understand these fascinating creatures,” says Renee. “Something that could also be a focal point for the education of our children, and for conservation.” They’ve had some of their display birds shot, just over the wall from their centre. But, if the popularity of the falconry displays at the Mdina Festival are anything to go by, slow, but sure progress is being made in educating us to the beauty of these raptures.

Perhaps, one day, history will come full circle in Malta and the falcon will be prized living, rather than dead.

Photos: Amanda Holmes

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