An-American-in-Malta

Toilet Alert in Malta

              

                Stay Away from this One

 

                                 This photo is from Londonist.com

An unusual thing happened the other day on my way to a walk.  I had to “go” very badly.  I told my friend who owns a pet supply shop and she referred me to a public toilet right near the police station in Sliema—at the crossroads of Manwel Dimech and Rudolph Streets.

I never knew it was there because there are dirty winding steps leading down to it.  Well, if I had known what this place was like, I would have gone in my pants.  They should have a sign there: Danger: Maltese Public Toilet.

There were two toilets when you got downstairs (within stalls).  They were not indicated for men or women—probably because they’re not made for men or women or humans at all.

You know that creature Gollum in The Lord of the Rings?  That’s who you would expect to find using these facilities.

One toilet looked like Gollum had had an episode of explosive diarrhea.  And in the other—which I had to choose—had about a good inch of “fluid” covering the floor. 

Let’s not even talk about the availability of toilet paper.  That’s my precious item in a public bathroom in Malta.

Anyway, my advice would be this:  If you have to go and you’re near this public bathroom, you might as well go public and pee in your pants.  You’ll be better off.

Please read my article on Associated Content.com

The Joy of Incontinence Pads

(And no, I have no shame, I guess.)

 

 

The Vet in Malta

 

           Vets Make House Calls Here!

 

I’m amazed. Our cat Egypt needed a routine check-up and shots. We were referred to a veterinarian.  I was shocked when I found out that you can call him up and he would make a home visit.  And most vets do that in Malta.

(In the US, a doctor of any kind won’t make a house call to even declare you dead.  Someone has to drop your body during office hours.)

There’s nothing much to say except we loved this guy (except for Egypt, of course).  He came out with all the veterinary equipment—including any vaccines your pet may need—to do a thorough check-up.  The home visit, including one injection, cost 30 Euros. 

He encouraged us to give our cat less dry cat food and more natural food—like minced meat. That’s all Mr. S. had to hear; he’s now cooking for Egypt.  (Who thinks Mr. S needs a real job?)

Our vet said it’s OK to give you his name and vital contact info. So….if you need a great vet, call:

                  Dr. Zoran D. Jankovic

            Veterinary Surgeon & Homeopath

                       356-9984-8689

               Email: zoran@vetmalta.com

And there’s more:  Here’s the name of a good Pet Sitting and Dog Walking Service--

                 Contact Mel at 356-7930-4747

                    mel.petsitting@gmail.com

 

 

Only in Malta

 

 

The Post Officer and the Candy Lady

 

I was in a miserable mood today because of all these ROTH IRA forms I have wasted time on. I spent over an hour trying to sign and email PDF files to the US. And I did it all wrong and had to print them out and fax or scan them instead. I don’t have a fax machine and my new printer decided that scanning was not in its job description.

I threw a fit and Mr. S. escaped fast and then called me to tell me that the post office down the block from us in Sliema will fax stuff, but that it’s expensive.  At this point, I didn’t care anymore.

Well, I didn’t care until the post officer said that faxing eight pages would cost over 30 Euros.  I asked if he took VISA and he said, no, but that there was a bank machine a block down.  I told him I knew it and saw that there was a long wait for the machine (which was true). 

So this is the part I wanted to tell you about:  The post officer said he would start faxing my papers while I went to the bank machine to get the cash.  And he did.  Wow.  I told him this would never happen in America—at least not where I come from.  I told him this was a nice surprise, considering all the trouble I have with other Malta government agencies, such as the love of my Maltese life—the ETC.

The guy said he hoped this balanced things out a bit. I said it did. And then I told him that it actually put things on the better side—if you know what I mean.  And it’s true.

Then something else happened to surprise me today.

CELTA Reunion in Malta

 

            A Two-Squeezer Event

 

                          Image Credit: Ubuyez.com

 

OK, let’s get this part over with.  I was meeting my former colleagues from the CELTA training class I took last year. This was the killer class I took to certify me to teach EFL in Malta.

Anyway, I wanted to look for the five women and one man who were going to be there.  So I had to wear two squeezers. For those of you who don’t know, many people refer to these undergarments as body shapers.

The first one squeezes in the extra, well, uh---FAT—on your hips and thighs.  Then the second one squeezes in the bulges made by the first one—which flattens everything out but then pushes it up.  You know what I mean.

The hardest part about this is the usual—going to the bathroom—because it takes a good amount of time to get these things up and down.

So I went with my squeezers (covered by regular nice clothes, of course). We ate at a pretty good restaurant called Amigo’s in Sliema.  Everyone was happy to see everyone else.  We all remembered how bad the CELTA was at the time, we complained about our current teaching situations—employed and not making enough money or unemployed (I’m in the second category with at least one other teacher).  And then we left, promising to get together all again soon—which probably won’t happen.

Come to think of it, the most interesting thing about this event were the two squeezers….

 

A Great Place to Use the Internet in Malta

               

                  I love the Juliani Hotel

 

 

 

Can you blame me?  I’m sitting here writing to you from the lobby of the Hotel Juliani—not to be confused with the St. Julian’s Hotel.  (But the Juliani is not tilted like it looks in the photo above.)

After a year in Malta, I finally discovered a place to use the Internet (when I’m not home and using the stinking Internet there).  

Right next to this lovely place is a McDonalds cafe. This was the first place I used a free Wi-Fi location. But the Internet worked off and on and there was loud music all the time.  That worked with no problem.  And, of course, there were mothers with kids who spilled hot chocolates all over the tables—one time a centimeter from my laptop.

Then I tried the Mint Cafe—another nice place off Tower Road on the other side from the Surfside restaurant.  I like the food there at the Mint Cafe.  The Internet would work, but the place also had very loud music and mothers coming in with kids spilling stuff.

(Right now I’m getting really annoyed at two women speaking in very loud, rapid Maltese near me, but this doesn’t happen a lot here.)

Here’s what I like at the Juliani:

1. The Internet works.

2. The music is nice and in the background.

3. The place is lovely to sit in.

4. You can order tea or coffee and sit here for several hours with your laptop.  (I’m terrified that someone is going to throw me out now for saying that.)

5. The bathrooms—which I frequent—are great. They flush like Heaven. I don’t know if there are toilets in the afterlife, but if there were, these would be in line for first place.  One of the stalls even has a nice stone shelf for your purse or bag (this is in the women’s room—I don’t know what it’s like in the other place).

6. The wait persons are nice.

7. The food is good if you’re hungry. 

My only worry is that they’re going to close this place down because I like it.  Inshallah, I hope they don’t.

 

The Traditional Maltese Sunday Lunch

         

             …Except it was on Saturday

 

Guess who I met?  The informative, outspoken, sometimes controversial but always fascinating Alex—one of our foremost blog commentators.

Alex, who is originally from Australia, has finally come home to her ancient roots to live in Malta (Rabat) with her husband and three gorgeous daughters.

She invited Mr. S. and I (thanks to this blog, Mr. S. is finally having an exciting social life) to what she called a long and loud lunch at another good place—Terrazza--in St. Julian’s.

With her was a lively couple from England who have also just moved here with their lovely daughter and charming son (also named Alex).  He’s a recent graduate from the university and a passionate expert on the Tudors of England (Henry the Eighth). Did you know that King Arthur truly did not exist at all and that

the round table in Winchester was really built by King Edward the First?

I guess what we did yesterday afternoon (Saturday) is the kind of traditional lunch many families have on Sundays. It was really nice with lots of talking, eating and drinking (for only the adults).  Being an American, I wasn’t used to all this fun and so when I got home, I fell asleep for three hours.

Anyway, Alex and I amazingly found out that we’ve always fantasized about being flight attendants for Air Malta.  We may pursue it—and even recruit Mr. S. to be our captain.

At this point, I’d like to wish Alex and her friends and family to a wonderful future in Malta.  And I’d also like to apologize for eating all the Belgian chocolates that Lady Alex received as a housewarming gift from her friends who came to the dinner.

Here’s a great joke that Alex told me:

Meeting the Maltese Falcon!

 

 

               Actually, it was an Eagle

 

 

The greatest thing about this blog is the people I meet through it.

The other evening Mr. S and I met the infamous blog commentator known as Eagle.  This is not his real name and I am not allowed to give any details about his true identity.  But he is moving to Malta soon and will be a true “mover and shaker” on our little island.

In fact, Eagle has invented a new drink (cocktail)  in Malta.  It’s called the Maltese Falcon—and there it is pictured above (in one of my favorite restaurant/bars in Malta—Bianco’s in St. Julian’s).  The drink is made with vodka and something else.  We will be waiting for Eagle to give us all the secret recipe. 

Looking at the photo above with the delicate hand of yours truly posing with the Maltese Falcon, it looks like a very romantic evening, doesn’t it?  Well. it might have been except for Eagle and Mr.S. sampling about 20 Maltese Falcons each—and then arm wrestling on the table.

Anyway, Eagle gave me much sought-after advice on how to write my blog by telling me to concentrate more on positive things in it. And I agree.  So that’s the last I’m going to be saying about Mr. Eagle.

But wait until you hear about who I met next…

 

Tea Time in Malta

    

     Minding My  Ugly American Manners

 

                                      

 

I found out from someone who knows that I’ve been drinking my tea (and probably my coffee, too) the wrong way.

I’ve told you that I’ve made my first real Maltese friend—a colleague from my school.  Her name is M.  And yesterday I finally got to see her house and meet her son who lives with her.

This was a very special event.  In general, the Maltese—as friendly as they are—don’t really like to have too many non-family members in their homes.  It may have to do with lack of privacy on a small island. But I think it may also be because Maltese women, in particular, are very fastidious about their homes and are fearful that an outsider may come in and judge the cleanliness of their house. 

M. actually told me that, but not in those words.   She said she has invited me over—and still hasn’t invited some of her Maltese colleagues who she has known for years!  (In fact, she kept her Christmas tree up until I made it back from grit-less England to see it.)

No Snow in Malta

                         

                          Back in Malta: 

                Wind, Dirt, but no Snow

 

I was getting my hair cut at Pat’s—the best hairdresser in Malta—and maybe the world.  I was telling her how I finally escaped from England yesterday (Friday) and was so happy to be back. 

Of course, there’s no Internet in my house; the landlord probably didn’t pay the bill again (writing this from a great little place with Internet—the St. Julian’s Hotel). 

And it’s very windy.  So you can imagine my horror when I saw some white flakes or stuff on the car outside the haircut place.  I was so stunned—I asked Pat if that was snow—that followed me to Malta.

No, she said, it’s sand (from the wind).

Thank G-d.

And thanks to all of you who wished me well in getting out of England—except those of you who told me to relax, count my warm blessings and enjoy the snow while I had to.

Now we all have to hope that Mr. S. makes it out of England this Thursday.

 

 

Stranded in England!

    

       England Does Not have True Grit

 

 

 

                    Do I look happy here stuck in miserable old England? 

Do you know that the emergency authorities have asked people not to call 911 in an emergency?  Why--have they turned to delivering pizzas now?

Sorry, everyone, England’s out of grit (salt for de-snowing/freezing the roads) again…or still, I don’t know.

I’m still here in Petersfield, England.  I was supposed to be back in Malta today, but we got stuck in the driveway, attempting to drive one hour to the beloved Heathrow in London.  I had to rebook my my flight---for an additional 60 E—for Friday—and now that’s even questionable.

These English with the snow—We “walked” downtown today and I felt like smacking every snow-grinning Englishman/woman and kid with a shovel that no one was using to remove the snow from the streets.  At least, it would be put to some good use that way.

There were no trains, no newspapers today, no banks open.  For G-d Sakes, in the US they open banks even after they close them down.

Supposedly, shopkeepers are taking to the streets in Petersfield because the city is doing nothing to clean up the snow which is now turning to ice.

Mr.S., who is from Germany, has turned back to bad habits.  After having lived in Malta, he was beginning to ease up on some of his more difficult German cultural reactions.  Malta was, fortunately, changing him.  But now that we’re not in Malta and we’re snowed in and I missed a flight, he is now timing my breathing.

But tomorrow is another day.