An-American-in-Malta

Trying to Work in Malta

Expat Living in Malta

                    Bad Mood in Malta

               Foiled again by the ETC

 

Can you believe it?  A little thing like being rejected again by the ETC for a permit to teach in Malta--after being told it was possible by the Maltese Embassy in NYC, and after spending a lot of money being trained to teach here--has ruined my day.

 

I suppose not being able to find out the reason why--except for the obvious that I'm a non-EU person--is adding to my bad mood.  Suddenly I feel like a pariah now--people aren't returning my phone calls or emails. And EFL schools that were enthusiastic last week about applying for me (Plan B) are now having doubts because they don't want to go through all the paperwork if there isn't a good chance of the permit coming through.  And, I've been told--they really need me in the summer and it's already unlikely that the ETC will come through with a permit in time for the summer season--even if it does get approved. 

 

Right now the Susan Boyle video doesn't even help.

 

I think the name of this blog will soon be changed to: An-American-Out-of Malta.com. Not because I want to go--but the ETC won't let me stay. Without a work permit, I can't get residency,  And without residency, I have to leave Malta every three months and go to basically a non-EU nation (and also including England) and come back to renew the visa.

 

Thanks to all of you who have been so supportive and keeping your fingers crossed for me that the permit would come through.

 

Any advice/comments are welcome. 

Shoplifting in Malta

                                             

                         Scots--A Forgiving Supermarket

                  

Last Friday night, I was minding my own business at Scots Supermarket in Sliema, getting ready to pay for my Haagen Dasz Belgium Chocolate,  when I noticed something a little strange happening at the pay counter.  It was all in Maltese, but I figured it out.

 

The cashier was pulling items out of an older woman’s shoulder bag, and the woman was paying for them one by one.  The woman kept putting her head in her hands—as if the effort was exhausting.

 

But everything was quiet. There was no commotion, no voices raised, nobody was called over.   When the transaction was completed, the next in line paid for their stuff.  The women at the counters started motioning and talking to each other—and that clued me in that something was awry.

 

When it was my turn to pay, I asked the young woman at the register if the older lady had been stealing the items.  She said yes, and then I asked her why she didn’t call the police.

 

She said it was the woman’s first time.

 

Wow…in my mind I compared that to the scene that would have ensued at an American supermarket.

 

I learned two things Friday night.  Maltese society gives people a break.  I think it has something to do with the fact that the Maltese care for their own people—even when they do something wrong.

 

The other thing I learned is that I can get my Belgium Chocolate for free next week—but only once.

American Embassy in Malta

                  

                    Ask Not What Your American               

                         Embassy Can Do For You:

                                    It Won't Do Much

                                

                      The American Embassy in Floriana, Malta--USELESS

I’m not surprised. If you’re an American, you won’t be surprised.  And if you happen to work for the American Embassy in Malta, you’ll be the least surprised of all.

About a year and a half ago, I started contacting the American Embassy in Malta to find out about applying for  a work permit. Three emails; no answer.  I tried calling them when I got to Malta; didn’t get through the menu.

I heard from another American who who even went there to the Embassy building in Floriana; no Americans in sight.   There were local Maltese people who were very friendly, he said, but he couldn’t get any relevant information regarding his problem/situation.

Now here’s something interesting:

I have a Maltese friend who said he knows someone who works at the Embassy.  My friend called this guy and told him that I haven’t been able to contact anyone there.  His friend said it had to do with the fact that Molly—the former US ambassador to Malta--had left a month ago with her entourage, and the the embassy was probably short-handed. Translation:  Instead of 80 Americans sitting on their asses in the Embassy, they’re now 75. 

“But Ilene had trouble last year before Molly left,” said my friend. 

“Well,” said the guy, I’ll call her myself.”

That was last week; I never heard anything and my Maltese friend is surprised.  But I’m not.  Why?  Because it’s the American Embassy.  That should be self-explanatory.

But I’m not being entirely fair.  I did hear back the other day from the Embassy.  It was a local Maltese woman who did call me back; she was very nice and explained that the Embassy is basically useless in helping with much more than getting a passport renewed.  I was so grateful that she, at least, called me back.  And why did she call back?  Because she’s not an American.  That’s why.  Because whatever you want to say about the Maltese bureaucrats, there’s one thing that’s true:  They’re friendly.

Do you know that once I called the Maltese Embassy in NYC to ask about the prospects of employment in Malta—and a Maltese guy actually called me back???

So let me tell you what the American Embassy in Malta (or anywhere) will and won’t do for you.

Mdina

                   Beautiful Mdina Got

                  Even More Gorgeous

 

 

Did you ever see or pet a baby falcon?  I did yesterday when my neighbor Carmen and I went to Mdina for its annual flower and pageantry festival.

For me to tell you how beautiful Mdina is over and over makes no sense.  You’ll have to see it for yourself.  But let me tell you—in my organized prose--the highlights that I loved.

1. I had never seen falcons before. Yes, these are the famed Maltese falcons.  Big incredible birds like hawks or eagles, I would say.  Even the baby—which was only 14 days old—was big, but he could only flap around in a box.

2.  There were people all dressed up in authentic Medieval costumes—complete with swords and horrible boil-like things on their faces.  There were supposed to be re-enactments of battles, but we missed them.

 

                                                     

                                            Photo by Heike Lauer-Zapp

3. The walls, churches, gateways—everything—were covered with flowers of all kinds.

4. There was a Medieval kitchen in one of the old monasteries.  Stone walls and ovens, copper pots all over the place and pottery I wanted to steal.

5. Carmen’s brother-in-law—the former President and Prime Minster of Malta—had his portrait/photo hanging up in an art gallery.

6. No one stopped you from touching things—even the baby falcon or many of the pots and antiquities.

7. Carmen showed me the convent in Mdina where her aunt was a nun for 55 years.  “She went in that door and never came out,” she said.  That wasn’t one of the more cheerier thoughts of the day.  Nevertheless, it was an intriguing place.

8. We sneaked into one church where we watched florists set up---peonas--white flowers (resembling roses) shipped in from the Netherlands to be used in a wedding that evening.

Alas, there were “slaves” dressed in rags and chained together in the square, commemorating the slave market from centuries ago.  I was interested in one hunk, but they wouldn’t take a debit card.

 

 

 

Teaching in Malta

             

                 Precious Moment at Cara’s

 

 

“If you choose to be a teacher, from your students you’ll be taught.”-----from the musical  The King and I

 

I’ve been telling you how I’ve been totally frustrated with the EFL business here, and how difficult it is to get a permit to be a freelance teacher—and all that.

Tonight I went to dinner with one of my students from back in my CELTA days—which was less than two months ago.  She’s from South Korea, she’s 22 and she was thrilled to be with a teacher outside the classroom.  We’ve run into each other several times since the CELTA class.

Over some egg salad sandwiches at Cara’s, she took out a little sachet which held some small cloth objects the size and shape of dice, but made out of fabric with little beads in them like the kind you find in a pin cushion.  There were Korean letters on them, and she told me that when she left for Malta, her friend gave it to her for luck.  It is, in fact, a type of lucky charm from Korea. 

Her friend told her that this would indeed bring her luck in learning English—and that she would find a wonderful English-speaking friend from it.

“And it came true,” she said, “because I found you.  It’s been a privilege to have you as my teacher.”

She then handed the sachet over to me and told me she wanted me to have it—and that it would bring me luck in being an English teacher.

I don’t think that all  the qualifications I have—or all the years of experience I may acquire—will prepare me better for teaching than this little sachet I will keep forever.

 

Neighboring in Malta

                                           Expat Living in Malta

Clothes Lines Make Great Neighbors

 

 

It all started with some item of clothes that landed on our sun block cloth in our yard.  That’s a greenish fabric the Maltese use over the roof or top of their yards to keep the direct sun away in the summer when you’re sitting out in your yard.

One day I noticed something on top of the cloth.  But I was too lazy to go up on a ladder to get it at that moment.  Mr. S. and I just looked at and thought we’d get it another time.

But then a very nice note slipped under our door from our neighbor across the way. Her name was (and still is) Carmen.  The note was so cute.  It politely asked if she could come and get the object that had fallen over our yard; it was her 30-year-old son’s sweater, and it had blown off her clothes line.

Of course, we called her and asked her to come over.  I liked her immediately.  She’s in her late 60’s,  very attractive and well dressed with a beautiful Maltese accent.

But guess who she really is?

She’s the sister-in-law of the president of Malta!  Yes, you got it—Carmen's sister is married to Fenech Adami—who was prime minister of Malta and then president for the past 18 years—if I’m correct.  It’s funny, but I don’t know Carmen’s sister’s first name.  In everything I’ve read, she’s known as Mrs. Fenech Adami.  Actually, President Adami is now a past president since last week. 

But Back to Carmen.  We’ve become very neighborly and friendly; she had Mr. S and I to tea.   And Carmen and I had quite an adventure in Valletta this past weekend.

But that’s for the next post.  Can you wait?

Thai Festival in Malta

                                         Expat Living in Malta

    Good Things Happen on Small Islands

 I can’t go to this, but it sounds very colorful—a festival for the Thai New Year.  It’s amazing how Malta plays host to so many people from all over the world.  Got this notice from an American friend and his Thai partner who I know from my Egyptian club here in Malta.

There will be Thai dancing, art, and knickknacks.  On Easter Sunday,  it's 30 Euros per person. (Sunday is aimed mostly at the Thai community.) But it’s free on Monday and Tuesday.   My friend and his partner will be meeting with the Thai ambassador and the Maltese Foreign Minister—and he’s complaining ( my friend, not the minister) that he has to wear a tux at 11 AM.  As they say in Maltese—miskiena  (poor thing).

Back in Malta

                                            Expat Living in Malta

                  Home Bittersweet Home

 

 

 

 

As the plane was landing in Malta yesterday, I was actually asleep but heard people clapping—just like they did when the plane landed at JFK 10 days ago.

But this time, I opened my eyes and I was the only one clapping; apparently it was some kind of landing sound I interpreted as applause. That didn’t do a lot for my IQ confidence level.

But it’s good to be home.  On the other hand, I really miss my girls now—having gone back to the States to see them makes me realize how far we really are in terms of distance.  I probably won’t see B for six months now because she has no time off from school and her internship this summer.  And I hope that R is coming for a few days in June.  Thank G-d for SKYPE.  That’s all I can say.

Nevertheless, I loved landing at Malta’s international (and only) airport in Luqa.  There are palm trees outside.  When you land, you know you’re not in NYC.  The airport is small and neat and friendly.  You pay for your taxi beforehand—and no one tries to cheat you.

It took only 15 minutes to get back to Manwel Dimech Street.  And guess what?  It really looked good this time.  I guess I’ve seen a lot worse.

And there’s no place like home—especially when you find it at age 56.

Trying to Work in Malta

                                       Expat Working in Malta

            Give me One More Chance

 

 

I got my answer from the ETC in Malta as to why my application for self-employment was rejected.  It had nothing to do with a visa.  Here are the rules I got back in a letter:

 

Persons from non-EEA countries are only entitled to self-employed status under the following conditions:

a) Investors intending to establish a business in Malta in which they will invest at least €100,000 without a Maltese partner, or a shareholding equivalent to €40,000 with a Maltese partner.

b) Highly-skilled innovators (who would otherwise qualify under the Highly-Skilled Route) with a sound business plan who commit to recruiting at least three Maltese nationals within eighteen months of establishment and at any time in future, no less than three Maltese/EEA employees for every non-EEA national.

c) Sole representative of an established overseas company that wishes to establish a branch in Malta.

 

The only good news in this whole thing is that the man in charge and I emailed back and forth a bit--which was a pleasant surprise--and told me I could submit a very detailed letter of reconsideration to apply under the status of a freelancer. He said this was hardly ever granted.  But he told me the areas to cover in the letter. And I'm going to try.  Plan B means going to a school and asking them to file for a work permit for me--which is very hard to do for a non-EU person in Malta.  But it's easier to get than a freelance permit.

 

Folks, I feel like I'm writing the letter of my life right now.