And looks like it tastes simply delicious too! Maltese bread at its best.

We came across this insight into an artisan bakery in Valletta with protagonist Nenu kneading the dough. One of those cameos of Malta life to be nostalgic about especially if you’re Maltese and living overseas I would think. A ‘no comment’ needed video.

Where to Find ‘Nenu’: it’s part of the Maypole group of bakeries. For its location in Valletta, click here.

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.

For all its seasonal allure, the pumpkin is actually on offer all year round in Malta, and pretty much a staple, fail-safe vegetable season in, season out. True, it lends itself better to autumn-winter fare (soups, added to stews, and so on) but it’s just as available in peak summer in 40°C. It’s also everywhere; if you’re out and about in the countryside, you’re bound to come across roofs and walls with pumpkins lined up, picturesquely ripening in the sun.

The beauty of the pumpkin, despite being a rather bland veg, is that it’s cheap. Right now, it’s a snip at the price at 70c/kilo, which is a fraction of one I saw on sale in the UK last autumn. The Maltese actually eat pumpkin a lot, so it’s not sold at a premium lantern-making price – yet.

So, what is it turned into here? Well, Qargha (Maltese for not only pumpkin, but gourd and marrow as well) is a basic veg, so it dominates the medley that goes into Minestra (minestone), which is a regular, traditional lunchtime filler for many families. Pumpkin comes in both white (qargha torka) and orange (qargha hamra) fleshed varieties and adds bulk, and colour to stew (stuffat tal-Qargha Hamra). Occasionally, it’s made into pies, and among cognoscenti of celebrity chefs from beyond these shores, it’s turned into a mean risotto.

The small, rural locality of Manikata, in the North-West of Malta, holds an Annual Pumpkin Fair. It could be the place to work out what to do with pumpkin beyond making soup! The event, which starts at 10.30, Sunday 30 October, 2011, is run by the Manikata Farmers Cooperative; see their website for full details. The fair should prove an authentically seasonal outing for the kids this coming half term!

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

We spoke to two expats about their attitudes to learning Maltese, its usefulness in their daily lives here and their experiences learning the language.  Amanda is a British and moved here with British husband and three young daughters. Phil has a Maltese wife and moved to Malta around four years ago; he also has a young daughter. On paper, even working, neither needed Maltese to get along.  But both chose to have a go, with varying degrees of success. Read on for why…and if you want to learn, check the further info at the article end.

Amanda’s Maltese language learning story

Q. Before moving to Malta did you research the language question to work out whether you needed Maltese to get along here?

I just took it as a given that I, and the rest of the family, would learn the language.   I see part of being in a country, and being a good guest in that country, as at least attempting to communicate in the local language.

I did order a CD-rom of Maltese to start learning before we arrived.

Q. Since Malta is officially bilingual, what really prompted you to start learning Maltese? 

I love languages, often they can be a window on to the culture of a country,  but of course when people move to a new country, they have a massive amount on their plate.   I have a deep rooted belief that anyone going to another country should do whatever they can to make themselves feel comfortable in the country.  In the part of Malta I live (Dingli), Maltese is very much the daily language.   But in reality, I hadn’t done anything about it until my kids started at school.  The teacher said that if I learned it would help me to support the kids’ learning.  So, as is so often the case, a mixture of motivations.

Q. What route to learning did you take? Private lessons or group courses? And where did you learn?

Group lessons in the local council offices.  I was the only foreigner; the lessons were Maltese literacy, so in reality, really useful for helping my daughter with homework, much less so for buying groceries and asking for directions (both of which I have attempted on many occasions with people who don’t speak English).

Q. How did you find the teaching material? Outdated or useful? And what about the approach?

The first year of lessons, the material wasn’t up to much – photocopied, very basic, often ancient.  But then some new books came out, Sisien, which were great, targeted at adults, lots of re-enforcement of day-to-day vocabulary, workbook to accompany the  text book, lots of chances for discussion.   Beyond anything else, the lessons were a great way to get to know more about life in Malta, as so many subjects were covered in the books and the discussion.  My teachers have been great; very keen to ensure I get something out of the lessons.

Q. How has knowing some Maltese enhanced your experience of living in Malta?

I have gained a lot of access to the culture, natural history etc of Malta through learning Maltese, but not necessarily through being competent enough to talk or read about it by myself!    Despite many lessons, my level is extremely basic, mostly because it is so easy to get by in English.  I believe the major advantage is being able to follow the side conversations in meetings, at shops etc and not feel totally excluded or paranoid that you are being cheated or talked about.  Usually the side conversations are very pedestrian.  It’s also nice to be able to share a (very simple) joke in the language – it always makes people smile, doubtless due to my appalling accent.

Q. What advice would you give a potential expat about learning Maltese?  

I would always say make the effort to learn the language.  People will tell you Maltese is difficult, but any language is until you put the time in to get to grips with it.  You can live here using only English, obviously, and Maltese may seem of limited use.  But I’ve learnt Spanish (spoken by millions across the world) and Indonesian (spoken by 200 million in Indonesia), and the language I’ve found the most useful over the years is Italian, so it isn’t always a numbers game….

Phil’s Maltese language learning story

Q. Did you feel the need to learn Maltese when you knew you were moving to the Islands? 

I was certainly open to learning Maltese. I lived in Italy for seven years and became fluent after around three, but learning by doing rather than through study, but I lived in a more non-English speaking environment. I lived in Portugal for three years and learned some basic Portuguese by study, it was more difficult as I lived in a more English speaking environment.  I arrived here expecting to learn Maltese, and being curious to do so.

Q. What was your understanding of the use of Maltese vis-a-vis English on the islands and how did that colour your attitude to learning Maltese?

I felt that in my position at work it was useful to learn, as I was managing both Maltese and foreign staff. The Maltese appreciated my trying, and found it amusing. When giving a team briefing, I tried to end with a different Maltese expression each time, and to keep it clean!

Q. Did you start learning Maltese at the start here or later?  

I have tried only a bit – actually I am disappointed at how unnecessary it is, and how little support there is. Many Maltese would rather I didn’t try and just speak English.

My daughter has fun teaching me some things.  I am keen that she speaks good Maltese but we speak English at home (her Mum is Maltese), but she continues to speak Maltese with the family and spends plenty of time with Nana and Nanu. The language would help me to integrate with the rest of the Maltese family; this should act as a motivator !

Q. Were you motivated?

I was motivated, yes. I tried MCAST at Paola and found it difficult to get to in the evening because of the traffic, but it seemed poorly structured and lessons were often cancelled. Some people I know completed the course and were happy, but I dropped out not too long into the course.

I tried to register for a local Sliema course this time starting in October at the local council. The browser I use wouldn’t enable me to register, after five emails a contact there informed me I was registered but Ihaven’t heard anything since.   I have also looked for a decent audio course and failed to find one so far…….

Q. Has your knowledge of the language stood you in good stead so far for life in Malta?  

I am unsure if any Maltese really makes a difference to my life in Malta; I seem to get by perfectly well without. I think this is unfortunate and means that I probably need to make much more of an effort to learn this language than those of the other countries I lived in.

Q. What advice would you give incoming expats about the need to learn Maltese? 

If you want to do it you will need to make extraordinary efforts to learn. I think that the Local Councils need to make it much easier for us to learn.

Further Info:

Where to Learn Maltese as a Foreigner

Local Councils – some offer Maltese literacy (not specifically for foreigners) and others Maltese lessons devised for foreign language learners.  A list of all local councils is on the government website here.  The search function and info on Local Councils  is Maltese even if you opt for ‘English’ when accessing gov.mt! Choose ‘dettalji kif tista’ under the fourth menu header ‘Il-Kuntatjana’ after selecting your local council from the drop down list.

MCAST – we didn’t see Maltese on its course lists for 2011-12, but check by contacting MCAST (Malta Council for Arts, Science & Technology) here.

German-Maltese Circle  offers what seem highly practical evening courses from October. Emphasis is on conversation ‘no grammar, text books or exams’! For students aiming for  basic conversational Maltese for work and leisure.

Photo: Queen Victoria by Leslie Vella. 

So, what does Malta do?

What to Expect in the August Shutdown

The next two weeks are Malta’s peak summer holiday time. If the father of the family hasn’t taken a break yet, he will now be shipping himself and family somewhere like a holiday flat up North – around St Paul’s Bay or Mellieha – or if lucky enough, to a second home in Gozo, and even abroad (certain patches of Tuscany are now hot spots for the great and good of Malta).  If very lucky, some folk will be aboard a motor cruiser or yacht island hopping around Malta or crossing over to Sicily.

Mid August often sees a change in the weather to humid, sweaty, still grey days that promise rain. We can see the odd freak flash flood storm as a taste of autumn rains to come.  It’s not been like that yet this summer, but it’s known as a changeable time of year.

The summer recess in Malta moves in mysterious ways. We might not have ‘Chiuso per Ferie’ on our windows as our Italian neighbours do, but the habitual two weeks’ shutdown does leave its mark. Here’s how:

The good news

Everything a tourist needs stays open. Local businesses know that this is the time of year to make almost all their profits if they rely on tourist bucks from sun, sea and sand seeking visitors.  Few of the habits of Italian restaurateurs here.

The bad news

If you’ve moved to Malta recently, you might not know that a lot of firms – even those in service industries and some retail businesses – will be firmly shut for at least a week either side of 15 August.  So, if you forgot to order that spare part for the washing machine, you’ll have to wait till well after the 15th. Even then, next deliveries after the summer recess can take often until end September or longer to materialise in Malta. You will notice too that supermarket shelves may run out of favourite brands as shipments slow in August.

Although Malta has a dwindling number of manufacturing plants, the tradition of closing up the office still holds even if a firm doesn’t have a production line. The knock-on effect of the shutdown ripples through the economy. We’ve said before that the public sector is hard to reach on the phone after 12.00 from mid June to mid September, but I doubt you’ll get anywhere until September if you try to call a government office now with a query.  We might be proved wrong of course!

The other bad news is that we are all left to battle for the best places on the beach, best restaurant tables and best parking places as the islands teem with holidaymakers, locals and visitors. For some insane reason, we like to take our holidays now, altogether in a pressured two weeks. Malta’s schools don’t go back till around 26 September or later, so we’ve plenty more time to take a break.

The traditional August shutdown, while not strictly needed for most firms these days, is a habit hard to break. Maybe we can blame it on Malta’s most important public holiday, Santa Marija, which falls on the 15 August. The day is in Malta’s psyche; not only because of the religious feast but also because it marks the end of Malta’s second ‘Great Siege’ in 1942 when a small, war-torn convoy of Allied forces’ supply ships limped into Grand Harbour relieving the islands.

Some answers to how they joined forces to achieve this, driven by a common belief and passion, lie in Maltese society today. They are staring us in the face – in the phenomenon of the yearly village festa. My village is in thick of its festa preparations. Each day this week, as the main feast weekend nears, we’ve seen cranes, pick-up vans and fork-lifts trucks, more usually found at home in warehouses, deployed in putting up flags, band stands, pedestals, plinths, statues, poles and more.

Teams of men, the band club members and vast armies of community volunteers (who seem able to get a lot of time off work!) are now working flat out, from dawn to dusk. I’ve seen this played out for 17 years, and incredibly, each year the festa gets bigger, longer and more extravagant. The preparation isn’t last minute though; all year long, a core team is busy gilding, crafting, painting the ornaments ready for the next festa. It’s a non-stop labour of love.

As a long-term foreign resident, I am still an outsider looking in on all of this. I still ask myself how this mass mobilisation happens; I still marvel at it just as I do at the labour and blind belief that must have brought the temples into being several thousand years before.

Heave-ho and up he rises! Saint Atanajsu into place

But it seems the banal modern road sign has a story to tell as well! Perhaps someone in Zebbug Local Council office can enlighten us?

Your Caption Suggestions Please!
We brainstormed a few ourselves, but thought you’d come up with something far more interesting… So, do let us know what to put on either or both these wonderful specimens of contemporary signs. Use the comments box below.

We’ll pick a best overall caption by end next weekend. In the meantime, have some fun!

People have been forced to flee their homes due to war and persecution for centuries. Sadly, this reality continues today with over 43 million people currently finding protection far away from their homes, whether in other regions of their own countries or in other countries. Most of the refugees still live in developing countries, with more than half the refugees in the world living in Asia and 20 percent living in Africa.

A number of people head towards Europe, unable to find true protection in countries along the way. Malta, like many nations, has always offered protection to refugees from around the world. From 2001, the number of people asking for protection here has increased – with the majority of asylum seekers fleeing from Libya by boat due to the harsh realities faced there.

The idea behind the documentary ‘Suspended Lives’ is to give forcibly-displaced people a chance to tell their stories in their own words. While volunteering for the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) Malta, offering legal support to asylum seekers, I spoke to the staff there and shared with them the idea of making this production. Roberta Buhagiar, one of the JRS lawyers, joined the project with enthusiasm and we both asked around for people who would like to share their testimonies with us in front of a camera. This is never an easy step for someone who has been through extreme experiences, been persecuted in their home country and may have seen family members brutally killed. It is not easy to sit in front of a camera and talk about events which shattered your life.

Along the way, we were lucky to encounter many people and organisations who believed in this production and contributed their talents out of goodwill, such as Australian composer David Lazar, Italian journalist Fabrizio Gatti, Spanish photographer Olmo Calvo Rodriguez, AFM Major Ivan Consiglio, the International Committee of the Red Cross, the PBS archives department, graphic designer Dan Cassar, soundman Steve Theuma, and the renowned Maltese director Tony Parnis. We are indebted to them.

The heart of this production lies in the courageous and wonderful people who not only shared their experiences with us, but also their humanity. They went beyond simply telling their stories. They shared their fears, their hopes and their dreams. Listening to them allowed us, and hopefully you as the viewer, to get a glimpse into what it means to be a refugee. Of course, the 75 minute running time is far from enough to tell the story of a life time, let alone six or seven.

However, we hope that people will be able to come away from this documentary with a better idea of the refugee experience – the often brutal realities that make people flee their homes, the treacherous travels they must undertake (stories of the harsh realities faced in Libya are particularly relevant to us here in a neighbouring country), and also the difficulties faced once they arrive in Malta.

While ‘Suspended Lives’ will not answer all the questions people may have on the issue of asylum, it may encourage us to seek answers beyond the dark room of the cinema – perhaps directly from refugees themselves. Once politics and pre-conceptions are taken out of the equation, one finds that refugees are people like us with similar hopes, dreams and fears – but often with a history of suffering which is hard to for most of us to imagine. After the barriers and labels are removed, you might find that you have met not refugees but a fellow human beings and, hopefully, friends.

See the film
The next screenings (which are free of charge) of ‘Suspended Lives’ are:

Thursday, 9 June 2011 at 7pm – University Chaplaincy, Msida.
Sunday, 19 June 2011 at 7pm – St James Cavalier, Valletta.

Further info: see www.suspendedlives.org
For an opinion on the film, and to see how it is being received, see this opinion here.

Photo: Andrew Galea Debono