An-American-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.