An-American-in-Malta

A Spanish Student of Mine in Malta

           When Spanish Eyes are Crying

A little drama today in my advanced class:  One of my Spanish students—a young woman who came for a few weeks to Malta with her boyfriend (who’s in another EFL class in the same school)—looked a little upset when she entered the classroom this morning.

When I asked if she was OK, the tears gushed forth and she ran out of the room.  We all knew immediately it was man trouble. I sent another female student after her.

About five minutes later, they returned to the room. The beautiful brown Spanish eyes were red-rimmed.  We asked if we could do anything to help; she said no.  Somehow, she was a real trooper and stayed in the classroom—and even participated.  Much better than I would have done.

Seeing her alone at the end of the class, I approached her for a moment. I put my arm around her. Said I, “I want you to know that whatever you’re going through—you will survive this.  I know you don’t think you will right now. But you will, I promise. All of us in this classroom have gone through what you’re going through at one time or another.  Or if some people haven’t, they will at some time.  And everyone always thinks that no one can understand how bad it feels.  But we do. Because we’ve all been through it—sometime several times.  So we understand. If you need to leave the classroom or cry, it’s OK.  So, is there anything I can do?”

Said she, “No, it’s OK now. We talked.”  And then she smiled a big Spanish smile and left the classroom.

How these two made up—when and where so quickly, I will not understand. But I think I’m sticking to English from now on. Forget the advice career.

German Students in Malta

        Out of the Mouth of German Babes

This little incident did not happen in class—thank G-d. 

But in my classes, I do tell students that one of the worst things you can call someone to his/her face is “stupid.”  This is sometimes news to German students, as the word stupid doesn’t seem to hold as much negative meaning in their language.

So, the other day I was visiting a Maltese friend in her shop.  She hosts students in her home, and two of her German student residents walked in to say hi to her.  They were young—about 14 years old—two girls.  They had very little English vocabulary, but I was still able to speak with them.

I started joking, asking them if my friend was a good or bad host.  They caught on, and one of them said, “No, she’s so stupid.”

My friend and I both involuntarily bristled at the word. I then went on to explain to the girls to not use the word stupid in English—and why.

They took it in stride. Then one girl asked me, very innocently, “Is it okay to call her a f_____ing asshole?”

I almost fell on mine, laughing.  As I said, I’m asked a lot of strange things in class. I’m glad this wasn’t one of them.

 

Expats in Malta—More or Less

  My Expat Friends—Some Entering;  Others Exiting

                                               Dee’s Birthday Wish

                                Dee (left), Me (middle) and Mike (right)

 

It’s almost a year now since I moved to Malta.  And there are people leaving who came around the same time as I did.  Unfortunately, these are people I really like.

There’s A and V, who moved to Malta the same day I did, used the same moving company in Malta and used the same rental agent.  It was an intriguing coincidence and formed the basis of our relationship.

But Malta didn’t turn out to be what they expected, and they’re moving to Belgium—where they first met many years ago—to find bluer waters, I guess.

And then there’s Z—my best friend from Germany. We met by chance because our PC’s weren’t working at home and we needed the Internet. That day, the Internet was working at the McDonalds in St. Julian's.  And there we were.

Since then, we call each other sisters.  She’s the first I ever had.  Z wants to stay here but can’t find a job.  She doesn’t want to leave, but has to in a few weeks if a job doesn’t turn up.  She promises that she’ll come back as soon as she can.  I hope so; I don’t know what I’ll do without her.

But the other night, there was some good news:  You know Dee from this blog?  She’s a loyal and clever commentator. Well, she and her husband Mike—who now live in Panama and hate it—are considering Malta for their new home.  They came to see Mr. S and me the other night on a trial visit to Malta.  And it was Dee’s birthday. We had a makeshift birthday cake and one scented candle for Dee to blow out. 

I think I know what she wished for.

 

Petards in Malta

                         Petards Went Up;

              Fireworks Barge Went Down

                                            By Mr. S.

 

                        The Barge Before (All photos by Richard Weninger)

       

After a rather quiet Sunday afternoon, I was startled—as usual--by loud petard bombs going off rather early in the evening.

As this past weekend was the Feast of St. Gregory in Sliema, I assumed that this noise was a continuation of Saturday evening’s spectacular fireworks display from the barge anchored in Ballutta Bay.

These deafening (and controversial) blasts usually signal that something is going on at the Feast, like the procession with the statue of the saint leaving the church--or that the fireworks display is about to start .But then there was a series of house-rocking explosions followed by – dead quiet .And that evening there were no more fireworks.

The next morning I learned that the barge had exploded--or at least a whole bunch of petards had been set of from the barge by remote control. Thankfully, nobody was injured. But not knowing that there wasn’t anyone on the smoking barge after the explosions, a tourist jumped into the water to rescue the survivors. It took the police 45 minutes to find him in the increasing darkness over Ballutta Bay, and rescue him from his own bravery. (He was an American, of course.)

The story could end here, but, of course, there’s Murphy’s Law. And more did go wrong .Because of ongoing investigations, the barge had not been removed from Ballutta Bay and on Tuesday morning the barge was found bottom-up, floating, looking rather like the infamous sinking Titanic.

                                  The Barge (left) on the way down

                                                      Gone

I was very amused watching the Maltese police, the Armed Forces of Malta and a bomb disposal unit standing by helplessly as the floating wreck sank. Well, maybe with a few less bubbles than the Titanic...but within a few minutes it was gone. Gone into the depths or more likely, the shallows of Ballutta Bay.

                                          Taking Care of Business?

 

Now that is the next problem. Ballutta Bay is not deep enough to scuttle a fireworks barge without endangering any boat bigger than a rowing boat! Or maybe this whole event was planned, and the sunken barge is to be used as an attraction for divers to discover a new barge reef. (And, of course, there will be a diving fee.)

So this was the most bombastic festa I’ve experienced on Malta so far, and explosive questions remain:

1. Did they remove the bombs (I mean petards) before the barge sunk?

2. When will the wreckage be raised (see next post)?

3. And who will be paying the bill?

As your local American-in-Malta blog correspondent, I will be there, waiting to tell you everything.

Fireworks in Malta

                            I’ve Got the Power!

Remember how I told you how much I hate those loud petards (bombs) in Malta during the festival season?  Well, I’ve been cursing them now for months (and so has at least one blog commentator), along with many Maltese people and tourists who swear they won’t return to Malta because of those bombs.

And guess what?  This weekend a barge full of those stupid things blew up—and then sank!  See? Cursing does pay.

So many people are thrilled that the thing went down.

In fact, I set Mr. S. off immediately on an assignment to find out what happened. Stay tuned for an exclusive by Mr. S. on the barge that sank.

Going in the Sea in Malta

                        Going in the Sea

If you don’t like disgusting things, then you better not read this.  But the other day I peed in the Mediterranean.  

I had to go; that’s the bottom line.   I moved as far away from other people as I could (without being so far away that I could drown) and did it.  It wasn’t fun or pleasant and I didn’t feel like I was getting away with anything.

It’s amazing, but how many times have I almost peed in my pants as an adult?  Many. And one time I did.  How many times have I suffered in agony and fear that I was going to pee in my pants?

But now, when I had the whole sea to pee in, guess what?  I could hardly go.  It must have taken five minutes to do it.  I just couldn’t let go.  I was sure it was traveling in one big urinal mass toward some innocent child blowing bubbles in the water.  I felt like everyone knew what I was doing.

And I wondered if anyone else was doing it as the same time.

When it was finally over, Mr. S. told me that I had actually done a good thing: I might have killed some jelly fish. 

I’m here in Malta to serve.  What else can I say?

A Great EFL Class in Malta

     One of My Favorite Classes in Malta

I really miss these students.  They were funny and smart and liked to talk a lot (in English).  Here they are, starting from the left: sweet and soft-spoken Jessica from Russia; Raquel with beautiful blue eyes from Spain, Gabriel, also from Spain, who would always help me up the stairs with all my junk, Marike—the pretty blonde from Germany; next to gorgeous Gonzalo from Spain; Linda in the black from Italy; and that’s me in the red shirt next to Matthias from Germany (with the insane laugh and obsession with Maltese toilets) in the Hawaiian shirt. And in the front is Angelina from Poland.  These students left about two weeks ago and I remember each and every one of them.

Architecture in Malta

                What do Malta's Ballutta Buildings and

             the Empire State Building have in Common?

                                                    By Mr. S.

 

                                         Ballutta Building from the Water

                                          Photo by Richard Weninger

 

Every afternoon I go down to Ballutta Bay for a swim. While paddling around, my eyes are always drawn up to this magnificent building overlooking the bay. The name Ballutta sounds a bit piraty (Johnny Depp-ish), but it actually comes from the Maltese word ballut, meaning oak tree. Several of these trees grew in the neighboring square, now a popular evening hangout with shady benches and two restaurants.

In 1920, the Old College, the principal school in Sliema, moved to a larger location and their former garden became the site of the first large block of flats in Sliema. The apartments were large and luxurious with marble staircases and built to the highest standards. And even today, they have the greatest view across Ballutta Bay, opposite the modern Le Meridien Hotel (that even mirrored one of the high arches in its facade).

So what do these luxurious flats and the Empire State Building have in common? Certainly not the rent!

They are both fine examples of Art Deco buildings, a popular international art design movement from 1925 into the 1940s. The Ballutta Buildings were finished in 1928, the Empire State Building following in 1931-- the world’s highest skyscraper at the time.

By the way, the Ballutta building is one of the buildings in Malta to which the Re-letting of Urban Property Ordinance of 1939 law applies. The law makes it illegal for landlords to refuse the renewal of a lease or raise the rent for pre-1939 buildings. So even today some of the monthly rents are still as low as 10 Euros a month!

Now, let’s see if the Empire State Building can top that.