The Malta Experience Monday, March 31, 2008

The past week was quite possibly the best vacation I have ever taken. We flew from Valencia to Malta last Saturday and spent the whole week exploring the most amazing islands.

Day One:We got there in the afternoon and went out to eat at an Italian restaurant. That night we hit the night life of St. Julians where are hotel was located. The clubs were just like the ones in Valencia, but larger. Eventually, I split because the techno gets repetitive (understatement) and went to a small karaoke bar on a side street. Annie and I were definitely the youngest people there by about 25 years. When Annie ordered their only dark beer, everyone stared. The entertainment was mostly old men singing easy listening ballads while informercials for a kitchen item played on a huge projector screen. Bored as we were by the singing, the infomercial proved great fun as we made up our own dialogue to the silent advertisment for about 20 minutes and then went back to the hotel.    

Day Two:We got up for Easter Sunday to attend a local catholic service. The building had modern architecture with etched glass and a youth center, but the service itself was fairly traditional. I was told this by a few of my friends who are catholic and attended with me. The service was beautiful and I felt so relieved to be in a place of purity and clarity. It was an emotional service for all of us as we have been away from home and the comforts of the U.S. long enough to feel stretched as far as peacefulness goes. Afterward, the church provided drinks and tapas for people to mingle and join in the joy of the day. It was perfect weather and we decided to jump on a bus to Valletta, the capital of Malta. The buses are the main form of tranportation, besides personal cars, and vary in their antiquity. Yes, I do mean antiquity. Some of them date back to the 60’s, I’m sure. We rode to Valletta along the waterfront that looks out onto the crystal blue Mediterranean. The city of Valletta is greatly influenced by the strong barrier of Fort St. Elmo and older Roman influences. We walked the steep streets and took in the bustling feel of a Greek/Italian/Arabic city. The many sways architecturally and culturally make all of Malta a surprising place to visit. We ate yet another amazing Italian meal and went home.

Day Three:On Monday, we made our way to Mdina, the old capital of Malta. It is supposedly called the Silent City due to the prohibition of driving cars within the walls. However, we spied a few rule breakers who hadn’t gotten the memo. What we found about Mdina was that never before had we been anywhere so windy. The clouds were flying by above our heads which made for quick weather changes and chilly side-streets. We toured the museum and cathedral—both showed the remnants of the cathedral’s history dating back to Roman times. It was incredible to see the old coins exhibit which contained coins from hundreds and hundreds of years ago. They could have been touched by Caesar or Constantine as far as we knew. If money got around like it does today, you never know. Bishop attire and old organ parts were also on display. We walked outside the old city walls to Rabat where we wandered through tiny, one-way streets to find St. Paul’s Catacombs. These deep, dark tombs were dug down into the limestone and held hundreds of ancient burial places. There were tombs of every size. Some were tiny for small babies and others had two places for heads where a married couple had been buried together. Seeing how they dug them into the walls and stacked them on top of each other was a small peak into the customs of the era. There were several carvings and paintings on the walls from funerals and passersby long ago. We toured the catacombs for a while, making sure to count heads as we all clamored out, and hitched our way back to St. Julians by bus.

Day Four:Tuesday we decided to go visit the Skorba temples near Mgarr, and then, see the third-largest dome in Europe in Mosta. The plan seemed flawless. Unfortunately, we got on the wrong bus and ended up in the southern-most part of Malta. Fortunately, we were dropped off at Hagar Qim, one of the best temples out of the 50 on the islands that I thought were going to be closed until March 31st, but ended up being open. The bus ride there was slightly unnerving once we realized the bus driver didn’t know where he was going. We headed up a dirt road at which point he decided we wouldn’t fit and made a passenger get off the bus to direct him as he backed the bus up. On arrival at the temples, the driver burst out with, “Oh! Now I know where I am.” It was like someone put him on the bus because they had to run an errand and told him to drive the foreigners somewhere of interest because they were sure to get off there anyway. We all laughed and ventured off to one of the most unbelievable views I have ever seen. The temple’s name means “standing stones” because the tallest stones are over 7 meters tall now after over 4000 years—mind you, these temples were built in 3600 B.C. before the Great Pyramid. The stones were set against a clear blue sky and a cliff-side view of the sea. The ancient Maltese were obviously building the temples on a cliff top to allow the attendees a view that could wake the soul within them. We were in awe. Once on the cliff’s edge, we noticed a path down to the water and decided to take it to a rock window we saw out in the sea. We weren’t expecting to scale any mountains that day so climbing down was a hilarious experience. Sara yelled out in her no-tread-hand-me-down-boots that she would get down the cliff if she got down the cliff. To which, Annie laughed hysterically and informed her that she hadn’t really said anything with that statement. At the bottom, we climbed out to the top of the window and sat in the midst of crashing waves. It was a site I will never forget. We spent a couple hours romping around the rocks and water, and eventually made our way back up to the bus stop. Once back in St. Julians, we ate at a bay restaurant to enjoy good food and loving people. The Maltese people are extremely helpful and warm. That day will hopefully remain in my memory for forever.

 

Day Five:Because the day before was so strenuous, we took a day to recooperate on Wednesday. We walked the board walk and enjoyed the sun.

Day Six:Instead of a 100 euro trip to Sicily, we opted for a 5 euro trip to Gozo, the northern-most island in the maltese archipelagos. The bus ride to the ferry was terrifying as we skidded through slippery streets in yet another bus from the summer of love as a terrential thunderstorm raged outside. We stuck it out and made it to the ferry in time to run in out of the rain. We boarded the ferry prepared for the worst or the best that Gozo had to offer. (It is always a toss up in Europe.) A nice cup o’ tea and some fruit biscuits put me at ease as we rocked our way across the water. I figured in Gozo we would ride buses as we had in Malta to get around. Little did I know that the bus system in Gozo is not quite up to speed, pun intended. Two cab drivers approached us with some deals, but I wasn’t convinced we weren’t getting ripped off. I said, “I want to go to all of these places I have written down (pretty much the whole island). Can you take us to all of these?” They said yes for 10 euro a person and they would throw in lunch at a fishing village for free. We took the deal and hopped in. They were true to their word and we saw the island of Gozo in style—doors opened for us and history lessons along the way. We went to the Azure Window and the Inland Sea. The window was massive and dramatic with the rain clouds and stormy sea. Then we saw Victoria-Citadel which is the Mdina of Gozo. They drove us to the north point where there was a small fishing village and hooked us up with some fresh caught fish. It was delicious! Finally, we saw the Ggantija temple and Calypso’s Cave at Ramla Bay. The cave is said to be where Odysseus spent 7 years with Calypso in Homer’s The Odyssey. It is free to the public and super cool slash spooky. We climbed down into the deepest part where we couldn’t see our own hands in front of our faces and laughed as we said we joked about being more beautiful than Calypso. However on our way back up, Maia burnt her hand on the lighter we were using as our means of sight and the rain started to pour. I guess the spirit of Calypso wasn’t impressed with our vanity.

Days seven and eight were spent getting ready for travel back to Spain. Malta was the most mindblowing experience I’ve had in a while. It is interesting that something so organic and natural can really cleanse your heart and make you feel alive. I felt the same way when I sat on the edge of the Grand Canyon and on the ferry in Niagara Falls. So many people see life as only what money can get them and don’t believe that pleasure can be found in the simplicity of something taht requires no currency. These places are free and real. They don’t cost you anything, but they show you everything. You have to be open to what they have to offer. You have to be willing to let go and take it in. I’m thankful for places like Malta that teach me to breathe deep.

Las Fallas has begun Monday, March 17, 2008

Quite possibly the loudest two days I’ve spent so far have been the past two days in Valencia. Las Fallas, which se dice is one of the largest festivals in Europe and también se dice that over 2 mil people come into the city for, started on Saturday the 15th.So far the main events have been Las Mascletás—they actually begin on the 1st of March every year—Fuegos Artificiales de Valencia—they sell them to everyone aka five-year-olds are setting them off in the streets—Cabalgata Folklórica—a small parade type deal in different plazas in the city. The events are attended by all and everyone. Something I have found to be of interest is the family oriented manner in which Fallas is conducted. It isn’t super safe or super child-friendly as there are fireworks going off literally in people’s faces and there’s a lot of partying. However, most of the events and simple traditions are meant to be enjoyed by all.Today we will be seeing one of the biggest events of the festival called Ofrenda de Flores a la Virgen de los Desamparados. There is a humongous statue of the Virgen Mary in la Plaza de la Virgen (our backyard), but the only part that is a statue is the head and shoulders. The entire robe and dress of the Virgen will be made of flowers for the days to come until they die. It is supposed to be a sight to see and an emotional offering for many.More on this after I see it. 

Castillo en Xátiva Sunday, March 9, 2008

In a city thirty minutes outside of Valencia, there is a castle old enough to boast the residence of Hannibal and the birth of his newborn son. Situated on top of a mountain, the walls and fortress are magical. The small, but thriving town of Xátiva is it’s home. The oldest part of the castle dates to the 13th century having hosted prisoners as early as 1278.Standing on the top of this castle’s highest tower, called Torre de la Fe, I found that I was living. I believe we become disatisfied with our surroundings and then turn to what material we think can make us happy. If I could just remember that view of Spain for the rest of my life, I ought to be happy. That beauty is like a drug.Everyone from the Moros to the Romans to the Spanish have occupied and built-on to the castle—so the architecture is varied. Much of it is decrepit and seems to be crumbling daily, but the main structure is still strong. It was the perfect day for the view as well. No clouds in the sky and clean air.Que marvilloso!

Let’s Take the Americans to the Rio Sunday, March 9, 2008

It is easy when abroad to become disillusioned with America and the way of life there. Although a broad generalization, people tend to assume that Americans live life like they are empty or dead already. As unfortunate as this stereotype is, sometimes it is true.America is the land of grande. Give me a big car, a big house, big roads and big meals and I will be happy. We want more, more, more—but we don’t want to have to take responsibility for the consequences of that attitude.On the other hand, America is a place where people are treated in a sincere manner. Customer service is valued and opportunities are truly endless. We are rich compared to a lot of the world.Here in Spain, the people breath life. They want to live everyday to the fullest extent and sleeping, eating can wait. Time with people is of utmost importance as well. The differences are endless, but the thing that remains a constant in those with whom I connect is their outlook on what our time is meant for here on earth.To me, the time I have been given ought to be spent helping and loving people. When I catch myself burrowing away, I immediately try to throw myself back out there. People are all that is worth living for! And I believe, as Luke 12:48 says, “To whom much is given, much is expected.” No matter who we are or where we are at in our lives, people who need our help are all around us.These thoughts all came about as I walked around with a few Americans visiting Valencia. It was refreshing to me that these guys wanted to meet people without a thought to whether or not they were like them simply because they love people—bcause life is too short to be lived as if there were nothing else out there, but what we know as comfortable. It isn’t mandatory to agree with everything a person says in order to like them as a person.Stereotypes are tools we use to maneuver through the world so that we don’t have to feel naive or vulnerable. Everyone uses them, but no one really needs them to survive. People are who they are and that is for no one to judge. And I think it is a struggle. I think we have to work at not being judgemental people. But I think, if we do, we will all be better off.