February 12, 2011
“I love being in Malta. I love being in a place I had no idea existed. I had no idea Malta was on the map of the world, an island in the sea, a piece of land…a place in this world- And now I am here. I am a person in this place, a person in Malta.”
These were the thoughts swimming through my mind as I sat on the bus, my eyes facing out of the window, my face facing the Mediterranean Sea; my face freshened (and even tanned) by Malta.
Malta, Gozo, Comino…Archipelagos taking their name from the largest Island MALTA. Malta is a young country, and it makes me feel young…. Young because like a child I didn’t have any expectations of Malta and like a child I was eager to see whatever Malta had to offer…
Malta has only been independent for 46 years, since 1964. I could say I have been independent since 2009 when I left Miami, Florida for college in Mobile, Alabama. Yet, I feel this journey of studying abroad in Italy has transformed my level of independence to a greater, more expansive and truer level of independence. Sure, I still rely on my parents and without them would not have been able to embark on this endeavor; but I am here and I am independent, making my own decisions, becoming more and more independent, just like Malta.
Malta was always ruled by differing countries, always being colonized by the strongest country of the time. Malta is a mark of these various rulers who left behind their testimonies in many beautiful and stylistically different buildings. The diversity of this country is also evident in the language of the Maltese people. The Maltese language is a song composed of many different tongue tunes, many different languages…
…Like my many different tunes sang in the Maltese Karaoke Scotsman pub where I drank beer and wine- and spilled it too- I spilled my heart out in song and dance. I sang different songs with different accents and different tones. Truly Maltese tongue. And the fact that I didn’t sing the songs correctly, (as I always do) was actually really Maltese of me to do so… as I defend this fact by what Todd told me about the Maltese language: proper English in Malta is frowned upon because it makes you seem as if you are “better” than the rest of your fellow Maltese people. When in Malta, do as the Maltese.
Malta has been inhabited for 7,000 years. For the 1st 5,000 years we have no idea who inhabited it (…just last week I had no idea ANYONE inhabited Malta). Malta is home to the world’s oldest standing building- a Neolithic temple from 3,600 B.C. (The pyramids are from 3,000 B.C.) A new country in my book, but not to the rest of the world.
A piece of Italy, Sicily is only 60 miles away... Malta is 19 miles long and 18 miles wide- yes that is the entire country! There are 414,000 inhabitants…that is 1,300 people for every square kilometer.
Malta was called “Melita” for its honey production and honey color. Yet, I give Malta the color….well, the color of Malted milk. Original thought or not this is Malta’s color to me. Milky, malty…malted milk. Like the malted color of stone street walls I walked past up to the little cake and coffee café overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. A table in a cafe, my butt on a chair, and the rest of the world literally next to me…the Mediterranean Sea was to my right and the Maltese land was miles underneath me as I sat on a cliffed café.
In Malta, as our tour guide said (10million times) you can tell the age of a building by the color of the stone. The lighter color usually means a younger stone…Malta has a light stone color (aha…it is a young country indeed)…this stone is Malted Milk. Like bakers add Malt to their bread to help it rise, Malta will soon rise to be a delicacy country of the world… Risen up on it’s own!
No more ruling reigns, Malta is it’s own country…as I am becoming my own person.
….
MALTA-zumas revenge got the best of me…or so did its wine. Day two consisted of a bus tour around the island, with several stops along the way to a “replica” of the pantheon in Rome, a fishing village, and the walled “malted milk” color town called Mdina (the old capital of Malta…it’s now Valetta)…a rocky bus ride up the mountains…Michael got sick and within 15 minutes so did I. An emergency cab ride later where Michael and I speechlessly suffered in the back seat and Todd worried in the front seat, we were back at “Europa Hotel” (really a hostel) and I slept the sickness away. I was feeling so sick I couldn’t even think of what I was missing in Malta and I couldn’t even think about how mad I would be that I was missing it. Sleeping for many hours during the day for me is unusual and I hate to do it, but this is the only way I’d be able to see tomorrow. So I did, really without a choice because that’s all my body would let me do. I didn’t get upset but just accepted it as a fact that I needed to rest and I would really make sure to enjoy the next day or moments out of bed in Malta…and I did.
Later that evening I was able to make it to GuLuLus restaurant for a Maltese meal…bread and every vegetable and bean dip, the tenderest chicken and date fritters with ice cream and ricotta tortellini. My stomach couldn’t handle the wine just yet. But I was getting Malta back into my system…while everyone else went out Chelsea and I walked along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea from St.Julians city back to the other side where our hotel was situated…
We passed along many teenagers, probably just a little younger than me (how sad to write I am no longer a teenager) who spoke what sounded like slang English. This is the Maltese language.
Recuperated and feeling better I was ready for cliff hiking the next day! About fourteen of us hoped on a bus and rode for 30 minutes up up up up up up up up up to the cliffs. Limestone was set expansively across the land and when the limestone came to an end…the Mediterranean Sea expanded to a sight of never ending beauty. It was still from a distance and even when I hiked my way threw the prickly bushes and up and down the limestone it was still still. Everybody went exploring their own ways and I hiked my way through fields of flowers, up limestone rocks into limestone caves and lied down on a rock just staring out to the world. I let the sun hit me and I was waiting for some extreme thought to hit me…like if I was waiting for a revelation; here I am in one of the most beautiful places one could only imagine, up on a cliff all alone, sitting on a limestone rock, the Mediterranean sea salt in my nostrils and the reflection on my pupils…I felt like I needed to journal about this moment, about my feelings. But I didn’t want too. And I told myself that I should. I needed to write about the smell of the flowers, the views, everything…I said a little prayer…and then I didn’t write anything. I just lied there. And I loved it. I let myself be. No revelation came to me expect a little voice, it was my own voice that told me to just lie down and relax. And I lied down and sat underneath the Maltese sun…and I just lied there. And I was in a pure state of happiness.
And once my body wanted to get up again and wander I let it. I wandered my way to a family standing behind their van selling fruits and vegetables…I asked for an apple and some carrots and took out my wallet. I had bills of 20 euros and handed it to the man but he asked me for change and I told him I only had 20 cents. He said that is how much it all cost anyhow and he happily took my 20 euro cents and I happily took my apple and carrots and plopped myself in the company of great friends, Elle and Kristin and enjoyed my Maltese treats. I let myself be.
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