The good, the bad, and the ugly of Marsalforn

11/5
I spent yesterday in Marsalforn. I was planning on visiting their cemetery but it turns out that like Kercem, they don’t have one. (That's the "bad".) Instead I talked with a man named Tony (this is the "good".) who owns one of the seaside shops (Wim – it’s the spot we got our postcards from when we were there.) Tony, like many others from his generation, migrated to NY in the late 60’s and lived there for 10 years. It was really amazing to hear his stories of living in Manhattan (near Harlem) during the 70’s. His sister was already living there when he and his 2 brothers went over together. They all stayed together for a month in the same apartment before they could get their own places. He worked in maintenance mostly, either in the apartments he lived in or for other buildings like the Rockefeller Center. At one point he was a lift operator for a hotel, working nights which he described as lonely and scary. He said the best thing about being there was getting so much exposure to the different kinds of people. He worked with people from all over the world, other immigrants from Yugoslavia, Puerto Rico, Spain, Italy, Germany, Ireland. He loved it and loved creating his life there. He is the first person I talked to that actually denied his own language in favor of English. He said that while he was there he wanted to speak English and pass as a New Yorker. His boss finally approached him once and said something about how everyone that works for him, they all speak in their own tongues – don’t the Maltese have a language? Tony lied and said no but his boss didn’t believe him and said he’d figure it out.

While he was in NY he joined a Maltese men’s club so he could meet other Maltese people and became friends with two other Gozitans, one from Nadur and one from Qala. He said the one from Nadur used to drive cars in NY and now he is chauffeur for the prime minister of Malta. He laughed about all of the trouble they used to get into when they hung out together. His sister and brother are still there. I don’t know what his sister does but I guess his brother works for the Playboy Club – I think as a chef. He remembered fondly celebrating the bicentennial in ’76 and the subject came up when this large cruise ship went by in Marslaforn and I commented on what an amazing view he has at his shop and how he’d never see anything like that back in the States, more referring to the landscape. He said “well actually…” and told a story about how his brother told him they needed to go to the harbor for the bicentennial because there would be all of these ships there and their cousin was supposed to be arriving on one of them. He said it was crazy with people, thousands all over celebrating and greeting family and friends. They got to his cousins ship and he found a porter and asked if they’d seen his cousin. The guy said “have you seen the size of this ship and all of these people? I don’t even know where my coworkers are right now.”

He came back in 1978 because the economy in Malta was supposed to be so much better. He met his wife when his cousin met him at the movies with five other girls. The cousin would point to a girl behind her back and he would shake his head no. And then he saw the woman he would eventually married and he pointed at her and said “Her! That one!” After they got married he wanted to go back to NY because he didn’t think he’d be able to do anything in Malta but his father-in-law didn’t want them to leave. He bought him the shop there by the sea and he said that first year they were making 800 – 100 Euro a day. He thought, “Why would I leave?” He’s been married and in that shop now for 30 years and he hasn’t been back to the U.S. since. He has three children and hopes one of them will take over the shop but right now they are more interested in their own pursuits. One is an architect, one works for clubs, and another is an education facilitator. He said he worries because they are more interested in opening a restaurant and Marsalforn is littered with restaurants – most of which have to close during the winter.

He asked me if I was celebrating Thanksgiving and told me that his family does because of his time in the U.S. He makes a pretty standard Thanksgiving meal from the sounds of it and was happy to share the other “American” style food he likes to make – like meatloaf! He also shares a love of percolated coffee and enjoys “8 o’clock bean” when he can find it. He thinks the best place to have a coffee is the Calypso Hotel in Marsalforn – expensive but worth it. By the time we finished our chat, I’d been talking with Tony for three hours and we’d talked about a number of other things as well including all of his animals and pets (which include dogs, cats, turtles, cockatiels, chickens and rabbits – the rabbits for eating), where to get the best pizza in Gozo (Zebbug), his farmland, the professions of Gozo and how nurses policemen and teachers all have to wait for people to retire or die to get a job on the island…well you get the picture…a lot. The only reason we wrapped up talking was because he needed to close the shop and meet someone on his farmland to take care of some tilling. He said that I could come back anytime I wanted and said he’d enjoyed talking with me.

Now here comes the "ugly" -- I’ve discovered a truism of both the U.S. and Malta. 50 year old divorced men love me. As I sat waiting for the bus back to Victoria I got ogled by a man on a motorbike who drove slowly past and said hello making even the French couple sitting down the bench from me laugh. He then parked and came over to introduce himself after trying to lie and say there were no more buses so I’d have to take a ride with him. Thankfully I’ve heard that trick before. His name is Joe and he spent 10 years in London. He has 2 children, a boy who is 27 and lives in London and a girl who is 25 and lives in Dubai. He said he had spent the day swimming in Ramla. He was overly tanned and wearing a gold earring. I kept thinking that if Wim were there he would’ve died because I’m SURE we’ve seen this guy on the beach sunning himself at some point. Gross. He asked if I would go for a coffee with him and I politely declined. He said he’d leave me at peace and he was going to talk to a friend and then go to Victoria to get his bike fixed. 5 minutes later he was back, this time sitting much closer to me. The body dynamics were amusing at least. He kept getting closer and took his sunglasses off so I could see his eyes. Meanwhile I had my arms and legs crossed and never took my sunglasses off - he wasn't seeing anything of me. The guy didn’t get the hint. This time he tried to tell me that the bus had come and gone up the street and I’d missed it, “sexy lady.” I almost died laughing at that because I’d woken up with an enormous zit on my cheek and wasn’t feeling like a sexy lady. He chatted me up for another 10 minutes, asked me for coffee two more times and then FINALLY left. The whole thing was comical more than anything, especially with the French couple sitting down the row and snickering about it with me.

Returning to Gozo I stopped at the Liquer store to get some water for the apartment and Joe (the owner…not the creepster) was there. He asked if I went to the funeral last week. I told him I had and said I’d heard someone died on the ferry last week. He said yes and that the funeral would be tomorrow in Qala (pronounced “Ah-La”). He said he might go to it because he knew the man’s sister.

Feeling a bit jittery about my interactions with Joe the creepster I decided to blow it off by going to talk to Anna. She was taking some photos for her website of her “new arrival” items so we talked while she worked and by the time I left I felt much better.