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Dwar il-Maltin ta’ Barra

F’Awwissu tiskadili il-karta tal-identita. Kont qed intella u nniżżel għandix inġeddida.

Kulltant itik li tieqaf ftit. Hemm bżonn. Ħalli kif ngħidu aħna z-zingari “issorbixxi” aħjar dak li qed jiġri . Ovvja li jekk titkellem ma tistax tisma’, jekk tlissen ma tagħtix widen u jekk fid-daqqa u il-waqt tarma tgħajjat jiefqu jagħtu kasek. Allura tieqaf u “tipploka”. Għax hemm bżonn.

Tmien snin ilna. Aħna li tlaqna minn artna nesploraw u ninvestigaw il-ħajja lil’hinn min żokrot l-univers. Tmien snin li fihom skoprejna univers ieħor. Iġġerrejna tul il-kontinent il-qadim nitmattru fejn irridu u ngawdu il-ftuħ, il-wesgħa u d-differenza. Meta l-kontinent ma wesagħniex iktar morna niġru infittxu il-biżlejn għammiela ta’ kontinent ieħor – għatxana għall-għerf bħal kull filosfu erranti tas-seklu elfejn lebbitna ‘l hawn u ‘l hinn biex forsi narmu minn fuqna dik l-għera li konna tgħabbejna biha minn twelidna u li f’daqqa konna sirna wisq konxji taghħa.

Pijunieri konna. Kburin u imżatta. Tlaqna niġru meta qajla konna indunajna bil-ġmiel tal-mixi. Bnejna artali ġodda fl-eteru u ġibna ruħna bhal mitt papa – ilkoll nippontifikaw. Bħal Raleigh li ġie lura mill-kontinent ġdid bi pjanti ta’ tabakk u patata sirna għorrief tal-botanika. Mhux għax ma kellniex raġun. Tafu kif jgħidu l-Ingliżi… in the land of the blind, the one eyed man…. Hemm aħna – Ċiklopi -għaddejjin nippontifikaw. Sirna enċiklopediċi.

Sadattant f’żokrot l-univers rawna, iggustawna imbagħad beżqulna u beżquna. Ikkuppjawna, kasbru u kissru l-mini-artali ta’ progress li konna tant nittfanntsu bihom. Kull deni ħadnieh b’ġid. Komplejna kwieti għax konna ilna li għarafna li dak kien parti mid-destin miktub f’demm niesna. Destin li qatt ma jippermetti tkabbir magħqud imma tkissir imfarrad u maqsum. Dak ma kienx l-ikbar dispjaċir.

L-ikbar dispjaċir ħadnieh dan l-aħħar. Meta indunajna li konna ilna li xeddejna ilbies il-pijunieri, uniformet l-esploraturi, togot l-enċiklopediċi. Indunajna li konna tgħażżinna. Tlifna l-għatx għall-għerf u għal oħtu il-mistoqsija. Lanqas ma kien għad hemm lok għall-poeżija tal-elf għaliex. Ma konniex tgħaġinna fid-dinja ta’ barra fejn konna tfajna il-kappell. Le l-ebda Dukat ma qatt kien ser jissejjaħ darna. Imma konna tgħażżinna.  U għal mument tlifna kull interess f’dak li kien qed jiġri f’żokrot l-univers.

Allura tieqaf. Pawża meħtieġa sakemm tirranġa il-kumpass, taħsel l-uniformi u traqqam it-toga. Hemm bżonn. Ilna tmien snin issa li tlaqna min xtut artna. Jekk il-pass li jmiss għadu mhux ċar allura trid tieqaf u tipploka u issorbixxi.

Narawkom daqt.

Qabel Awwissu se nġedded l-ID Card. Biex tagħmel parti mill-Unjoni Ewropea trid l-ewwel tagħmel parti min pajjiż. Biex tivvjaġġa fiż-żona Schengen mingħajr passaport kull m’għandek bżonn hu ID Card (jew liċenzja tas-sewqan)… biex titlaq iddur fl-Ewropa trid tibda minn x’imkien.

U l-bidu dejjem kien ser ikun żokrot l-univers….

Din il-bloggata hija dedikata lill-Maltin ta’ barra u b’mod speċjali lil dawk li telqu minn Malta fl-ewwel nofs tas-sena 2004. Dan il-blog ser jieħu pawża qasira. Ir-ritratt huwa ritratt tal-belt ta’ Lussemburgu meħud mis-sema.

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Relais pour la vie

Tonight between 4 and 6 a.m. the better half and I will be taking part in the Luxembourg Rally for Life (Relais pour la vie) that is being held to collect funds for cancer research as well as to express solidarity with persons who are concerned by the Big C. We were roped into this idea by a neighbour of ours who set up a team of her own to take part in the relay. It’s a twenty four hour walk/run at le Coque in Luxembourg – each participant will be doing one hour of his own. Lara will be the first at 4 a.m. and I will follow at 5. It’s a great feeling to be taking part in something so meaningful though the early hours of the day as well as the fact that I am absolutely not fit right now make it a little more daunting a task.

Here’s to the finish line…

For the Luxo based readers among you, there is the possibility to make an online donation here. That’s the Luxembourg Cancer Foundation. Cheers for the support.


 

 

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Thatcher

Here’s an old style diary-blog and it’s all dedicated to a cat. This blog had kicked off at a time when another cat was around. J’accuse can proudly announce the arrival of a new feline in the household. The wife needed someone to depend on when facing the myriad dangers of living in a castle surrounded by a forest. The early appearance of curious rodents peering from holes in the fireplace structure meant that we had to act now and act fast. I decided to surprise the better half with an early Christmas present (that way there will be no need to carry the stuff on our honeymoon). I searched far and wide in every refuge for animals  (or “asile” as they are called here) for an appropriate cuddly companion that would instil fear in the hearts of intrepid rongeurs.

Originally I had my heart set on a kitten that could be brought up and formed in the hybrid Montessori/J’accuse method that results in a feline that acts canine in all but appearance. I was then told that a newborn cat was likely to (a) render null all our efforts hitherto to decorate the home with lovely furniture and (b) take a long time to get used to its secondary objective of mouse-hunter. Pied pipers being short on the market now I had to switch to looking through the youth of the refuge and my eyes were directed onto a tiger-looking three-year old who had already suffered two false starts in other households. All she needed to do was reach out a paw and the cold-hearted J’accuse melted in an instant.

There you have it. The cat was taken home and the wife, still in the throes of post-nuptial ecstasy and post-nepotic enthusiasm had to suddenly deal with new rushes of enthusiasm thanks to the furball presently installed in our house. Our wallets and plastic cards have a new enemy to add to the list after the various Desiguals, ASOS, Amazon, Play, and iStores. It is now officially “pamper-the-animal” season and we have already had a preliminary sortie to buy the “basics”. Baptism-wise the cat supposedly came with a name – “Kettchen” to be exact. However cats are really voice-activated, and like an eskimo with custard in his ears they don’t really care what you call them (so long as there is food and drink available). That explains our decision to rebaptise the cat. The wife opted for something phonetically similar but deeply imbued with meaning.

Hence Thatcher. The Iron Puss with feelings.

 

Post Scratchum: Before I forget. If you do live in the Duchy and are thinking of adopting an animal for life this Christmas do pop over to the people at www.asile.lu in Dudelange. There’s loads of lovely dogs and cats waiting for you to take them home and make them feel loved….And have you spend loadsamoney on the net for humanised treats for four-legged creatures.