One last Festa

12/8
Since returning from my trip sleeping has been a lot easier. I’m still up late to start with but once I lay down it’s not taking forever to fall asleep. Until last night that is. Today is a public holiday- the feast of the Immaculae Conception. So last night Grapes Wine bar had a band playing underneath my window that didn’t start until 10 and ended at 1 a.m. I was so pissed. Oh and there were fireworks in the street too. Those I didn’t mind so much – they weren’t right outside my window. But that band. The music wasn’t “bad” per se – it was done well. They played everything from “Sail Away With Me” by David Gray to “Winds of Change” by the Scorpians, U2’s “All I Want is You” and Kansas “Dust in the Wind.” But I kept thinking about the other people who live in the square all of the time and how at home this would never fly in a residential area without some sort of noise permit. It really got me thinking again about participant observation and how much and when to participate. How much do we leave ourselves at the door and participate like the locals? And would I still be welcome in that scenario? Looking down at the crowd, the people were mostly in their mid to late 20’s with all of those in their 30’s at home with their families sound asleep. And would I have gone were it something happening at home? Maybe if I had someone to go with. But I wouldn’t go to a club by myself at home and locals here confirm that you wouldn’t here as well. And what if I wasn’t the kind of person who would either way?

This morning at 8am the church bells rang, and after every bell a firework went off. That was enjoyable. Then again at 9am. Now at noon the church bells are going. I wonder if they will go for an hour like they did yesterday. Yup – we’re going on 49 minutes so I’m guessing it’ll be a full hour. I’ve decided that if I was ever captured and tortured for information, noise torture would be most effective on me. Between the concert last night and the bells that seem to never end, I’m convinced of it.

After 1.5 hours I couldn’t take it anymore and I decided to head out. I was going to go to a specific store for some souvenir items but it was closed so instead I went down to Grace’s shop and had a quick chat with her and a fellow named John. He described himself as a “domestic engineer” but in reality he’s a retired engineer whose wife has gone on to work. They are both Maltese and just moved to Gozo 4 years ago. Grace explained that the PH for today is the Feast Day of the immaculate conception. She said they were doing a big motorcycle/bike caravan from Ta Pinu to Qala and that there would be a feast in Qala as well though not as big as what would be happening in St. Francis Square tonight. I asked after the bells from the baby’s funeral and she confirmed my guess that it’s because it’s not supposed to be an occasion for sadness since the baby will go straight to heaven. I thought I heard the “motorcade” coming so I excused myself to check it out, telling Grace I would still see her again before I leave.

I was wrong, however, so instead I ducked into a shop that I know takes credit cards and bought some souvenirs. I popped back home to have a snack before going out to St. Francis Square. I figured if they were setting up for a Festa then there would be some action going on there. I was certainly right about that. The streets are lined with the red and yellow Festa banners – most of them brand new without any paintings or embellishments on them. A statue of the virgin Mary has been placed over the normal statue in the center of the square and I found out it was done by Paul Aquilina – Kilena’s son. Men were starting to get the fireworks prepared so I approached a man who was having a cigarette leaning over his gate next to the Schembri watch shop to ask what time the fireworks would begin.

He was balding, with glasses and patches of hair on his ears but he had a kind smile and was dressed well. He wore tan slacks and a maroon colored v-neck sweater, underneath was a sort of red checked flannel shirt. He said around 10 p.m. and that there would be a procession at 6. He asked if I’d gone in to see the church yet and I said no. I made some polite conversation, asking after the feast and what sorts of things might happen in the square tonight and if the noise would bother him living so close. He said the fireworks aren’t too big of a deal for him, some loud bangs but mostly he said its better than the noise of the cars – traffic is blocked off to the street for the day. I asked if he’d be watching and he said yes from his balcony. I asked if it was the kind of public holiday where stores and shops were closed and he said yes, primarily. I asked if he worked or was retired and he said he’s a retired jeweler. He learned the trade from his father and his grandfather before him. He said he loved making jewelry but the paperwork and VAT stuff got to be too much. He said he had 2 shops – the one next door and another one and he said he worried most of the time that they would be robbed and because he didn’t pay for insurance they would get nothing back. But he didn’t want to pay for insurance because of the headache for claims and because they would provide you with things he already had – like the security doors and such. He said he ended up retiring because he had enough. One day a guy from the VAT came to do an inspection at like 9am and he thought, “okay fine” but the man came back 7 times between 9 am and 6 pm! He said “and I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” He said after that he swore it was his last day. He just closed up shop and was done with it. He said it’s silly too because now he draws on the pension instead of working. When he was working he was paying taxes and contributing to the community, now he does nothing but take.

He said they’ve lived in the house he has for 35 years – before that they lived in a place around the corner and he grew up in a house on the hill to the citadel. I asked if the old block Tapie’s was on was still there when he started to build and he said yes. He said it was much quieter then. I asked him how long he’s been married and he said to guess. Because he mentioned he had 2 sons and one was 20 I said “30 years” and he said – no 37. He said he has twins – a boy and a girl and they are 36 years old. And then 16 years later they had another one. I told him that I’d heard that Joseph and Mary were the most popular names on the island and he said it’s true – his twins are Joseph and Miriam. He said, then 16 years later we had our son and thought – we now have Emmanuel. Ha. His eldest son works with cars and his daughter is a social worker. His younger son, the 20 year old, is an artist. He’s still in school but he is already working selling some of his works through the church. He said that one of his items was part of the lottery for the nights festa. He said he had some of his work there if I wanted to see it. I said yes and he took me down to their garage where his son has a makeshift studio set up. He had several very large wall hanging type paintings in various stages of completion and all were magnificent. His father proudly showed off his work, telling me which saint each was and showing me photos of ones that have already been completed and put into the wall hangings for festas. He said his son gets paid for them but not much.

I couldn’t believe how good they were for a 20 year old. I asked if his son wants to stay in Gozo and he said yes, very much. He said he’s going to have to work hard to make a living from it if that’s the case. I said it’s nice that he has the space to support him and let him do his work. He said yes although sometimes his son complains that he needs more space and here he pointed to 2 old cars (pre-50’s) that are sitting in the back of the garage and I’m sure in his sons mind they are just taking up space. I asked a lot of questions about the work – who commissions the pieces, where they’d be hung, how often they make new hangings and what they do with the ones they aren’t using. He said they will use each one for a few years and then they put them into a museum and make new ones. He said there’s been an argument brewing about whether they should continue doing such works. He said he doesn’t understand it – it keeps kids busy and off the streets for them to help their community. It gets them involved in the church and their neighborhood to do so much on a volunteer basis. Indeed the square was swarming with people setting up fireworks and making preparations for the evening and it is all volunteer. He said, “what do they want the kids to do? Crack?” He certainly sounded like he had a beef with the government, that was for sure.

We talked about cars and car insurance and how expensive it is for him to insure his cars. (one is 500 Euro a year and the other is 300.) We talked about how Paul Aquilina is a family friend and how he and his son use each other for relaxation, stress relief, and constructive criticism. When we talked about his daughter being a social worker I tried to get him to explain exactly what she works with (the poor, the abused, etc.) and he said she does it all. He said at first she was in schools but now she works in the office and does all kinds of stuff. I said there don’t seem to be a lot of poor people in Gozo and he said “don’t be fooled. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” He said that there are people who get assistance but yet they have to have their water and electricity shut off because they can’t afford it. He said it’s silly – why don’t they pay for their water and electricity and give them some food? He said it’s not as obvious as it used to be but it’s still there. He said that when he was a kid everyone in Gozo seemed to be barefoot because they couldn’t afford shoes. He said he had some fellow students who came to class with only 1 shoe on. When the teacher would ask why one shoe they would say because their other foot hurt but the reality was because their mothers had bought one pair and split them between her kids. He said when he was at primary school he never took a lunch with him. He asked me if I could work out why and when I said no he said it was because he never wanted to eat a lunch and have all of the kids who didn’t have one have to watch him eat. He figured if they don’t eat lunch then I won’t either. He said he never had lunch all through school. I asked if that was during the migration period when things were really bad and he said yes. I asked him if he migrated and he said no. He went to school until he was 16 and then started working in his father’s shop and that was it. He said he’s gone to England a few times but never wanted to go anywhere other than for traveling.

He said they went to England because everyone told him how nice it would be to go there to celebrate Christmas but he said he and his wife were disappointed. They went to church with their friend who was hosting them but that was it. he said it wasn’t a big deal at all and the church only had about 30 people in it. I asked him what Christmas is like for him here in Gozo and he said that for him personally he doesn’t like it anymore because of how commercial it is. You have to buy these gifts and send Christmas cards and all of this nonsense and no one seems to care anymore about what it’s really about. He said as a family they go to the midnight mass on Christmas eve and it goes until 1 am and then afterward they have some guests to their home for a drink until 2 or 3 and then they go to bed. He said it’s nice to celebrate with their friends. I asked if they’ve stopped doing a tree then since his children are so old and he said no – his wife is wild about Christmas and decorations though he’s not sure yet about this year because she’s going on a trip to England for a week directly following and by the time she comes back it will be over so he’s not sure what she’ll put up.

While we were talking we were approached by a man who was selling books. I guess his dad was a writer who had started a book on the role of Gozo in WWII but he died before he could finish it and so this guy finished it. he was going around to people in the square selling them for 20 E and autographing them. If it wasn’t in Maltese I would’ve considered buying them. He did turn to me and start talking in Maltese so that was interesting. Then he said that maybe if I have a friend in Malta I could buy one for them because it would be a nice gift. Ha. I said I don’t and then we stood their awkwardly while the other guy excused himself to get more money and said he’d be back. When he returned we talked about Thanksgiving and other American holidays and then he said that I should probably go and check out the church before I can’t anymore – he said pretty soon there would be too many people for me to get in and see it. I asked him what his name was and he said it was George.

As far as I was concerned the church was already packed and it was in the middle of a mass as well so I wasn’t going to bust through just to take photos. I noticed that the church was draped in the red that had been in the citadel last year and I wondered if it was because of the Festa as I don’t recall it being like that last summer when Greta and I went. I made sure to take a picture of the lottery photo his son did and I took some other photos of the hangings. I can’t believe they are all hand painted.

The procession of the statue of Mary started from the church at 6pm and took a good solid 2 hours to complete the rounds of the neighboring streets. It takes 8 men to lift and carry the statue, with 4 in the front and 4 in the back. There are also 4 spotters with these poles that the statue can rest on whenever the men need a break. And believe me – walking for 2 hours, they need to rest a lot. That thing is massive. I’ll post some pics once I’ve uploaded them. They walk from St. Francis Square through the street behind St. George’s into Triq Repubblika and then up to Independence Square, into St. George’s Square, and back down the street to St. Francis Square. The procession is led by the priests carrying banners and candles, followed by one of the band clubs who played a really slow version of “Immaculate Mary.” Next comes some of the festa organizers in suits and I noticed George’s son Manuel had changed into a suit and was walking with them. No doubt because of all of the work that went into the paintings for the banners. Then comes the statue and then following behind the statue is a group of priests holding the blessed sacrament (Body of Christ). And then after that, the congregation follows along as if it’s a parade, walking to whatever stopping point the statue has and watching/listening to the band play. My favorite part of the procession was when the statue stopped in front of the Franciscan Convent and all of the old nuns serenaded Mary from their front door. It was beautiful.

When they got to St. George’s square I went into my apartment so I could get a nice view of everyone in the square. The band played and competed with the sound of the bells that were being hand rung by some of the boys from the church. As they rang the bells they took turns from each of their towers throwing confetti from the bell towers. It was blue paper cut in the shapes of stars with a picture of the statue of Mary on one side and a notice of the date of the festa in Maltese on the other. The procession stayed in St. George’s for awhile and so the band played 3 or 4 songs before they moved on.

By then it was about 8 so I decided to stick around the apartment to write up some notes. The weather was good but still cold enough that I didn’t want to stand around in the Square for 2 hours waiting for fireworks. It turns out I should’ve followed the crowd because George was wrong. They did the fireworks at about 9:15 so by the time I got there at 9:30 I missed the whole thing. Gah. What a bummer. There’s nothing like Maltese fireworks.