An-American-in-Malta

So Long to a Wonderful Friend in Malta

 

Good-Bye to my German Sister

I don't have to say her name; she knows who she is and what she means to me.

One of my best friends ever--and certainly one of my best friends in Malta--is leaving today to go back to Germany for a while. She needs time to figure out what she wants to do. She promises she will return to Malta, and I hope so much that she will.

People come and go from Malta. That's probably true with any family of expats in any country. But some goings hurt more than others.

We call each other sisters, although we are not biologically related. But if I could choose a sister, I would choose her.

We met three years ago on a hot day at McDonald's in St. Juliens. We weren't eating anything--just trying to use our computers. Her internet wasn't working at home so she came to McDonald's (which has a wireless connection you can't count on, but it's there) and I also came that day to get out of my apartment (flat) and write.

It was blazing hot and I was not loving it there at McDonald's. I needed a spot in the shade on the terrace and my soon-to-be sister shared her table with me.

We didn't get much work done that day. But within minutes we shared our expat life stories (every expat has a major story) and we became sisters--just like that. Now it's three years later and she has to go back to Germany for a while.

One other time, my sister thought she had to leave because she couldn't find a job here. And then, the day before she was going to book her flight back to Germany, she found a job via this blog.

It's the night before again--and I'm hoping for another miracle that will keep her here. But this time her bags are packed and she will be getting on that plane.

I just hope she books a return flight soon back to Malta. I'll be waiting for her and so will the rest of her expat family.

Have a safe trip, my sister, inshallah.

Love always,
Ilene

 

Eye Problem in Malta

First Real Health Problem in Malta

I was in the middle of teaching my EFL class when these large black spots crossed over the vision in my left eye.

I recognized what I knew to be the symptoms of a possible retinal tear or detachment. My mother had one when she was my age. And I'm a candidate for such a condition because of various factors.

You can imagine what it was like to be in the middle of teaching and have something like this happen.

I had to leave the class, inform my director, etc., wait for a substitute teacher and then get myself to the hospital. Mr. S. came with me.

I had the difficult choice of going public or private. Since I work in Malta, I'm entitled to coverage by the national health insurance.

My private insurance doesn't cover eye problems because I have dry eyes and the insurance excluded anything dealing with eye problems.

But on the advice of some people at the school, I decided to go to a private hospital--St. James in Sliema. I had been there before for a routine doctor visit for something else so there was no lengthy registration procedure. There were no questions about payment at this moment.

I waited about 15 minutes to see the Urgent Care doctor on call. While I was waiting, I asked myself "How do I feel being in Malta at this moment? Do I wish I was in the US?" Waiting to see a doctor about a possible serious eye problem? Possible eye surgery? I was worried about how much eye surgery would cost.

But I felt OK about being in Malta and seeing a doctor here.

Turns out that I saw an internist who initially diagnosed that I didn't have a detached or torn retina and arranged, however, for me to come back later that afternoon and see the ophthalmologist in the Eye Clinic to rule out these conditions.

I liked the MD who gave me a note to give my director at school.

The cost for this emergency (urgent care visit)? 15 Euros. That's about $22. That's right, Americans.

Later I saw the eye specialist who I really liked. I have a condition called PVD (not a retinal detachment but something that has the same symptoms and could lead to it sometime). I will have to live with the large floaters that I see in my left eye (another subject, another time).

But I feel that I have a good doctor. And the cost of seeing the specialist? 25 Euros.

So I have an eye problem that is very disturbing. Hopefully, the spots will diminish somewhat with time and/or that I'll get used to them. Hopefully, the condition won't lead to serious retinal problems and surgery--the cost of which would be prohibitive, I'm sure, even in Malta.

But the point is that I've gone beyond the initial expat stage in Malta now with being treated for a health problem.

On a happier note: The photo below--with me on the right--at the opening of the film Sex and the City in Malta.

Work Permit Granted in Malta!

                       Getting What I Wished For :

                G-d Help Me--The ETC  Said YES

 

This really is me, by the way. Or it would be me if I was blonde and had that body and those nice arms.

 

Tonight I was forced by a couple of good Expat friends to drink down two Bailey's (glasses, not bottles) to celebrate that my work permit was granted.

I found out on Monday via a surprise email from my contact at the ETC.  Just two words: "permit ready" with a smiley face.  Well, I didn't know what that meant--was it physically ready--or was it "just" approved?  I had been told it would take at least another week to hear and then at least another week to be ready to pick up (for another 48 Euros, of course).

So I wrote to another contact at the ETC who has felt very sorry for me ever since I cried on the phone to her after the second application was turned down.

So she wrote back and said, "Sorry, there's been a mistake. It's not ready."  I was about to s_____ in my pants at the McDonald's cafe in St. Julian's ( I was using the free WI-fi there, not eating).  And then I scrolled down the email and I found in large letters:

 

ONLY JOKING YES IT'S READY I HAVE IT IN MY HANDS

You can come for it tomorrow morning between 8 and 12

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.