j'accuse

I had to pay a visit to my phone operator last week since my iPhone was playing up by deciding to go blank without giving prior notice. Since I was due to leave Luxembourg on a short holiday the urgency of having a working iPhone was all the greater.
 
The company’s offices are in the centre of town and the usual überfriendly guy was still munching through his breakfast when I turned up at an unearthly hour of the morning. I announced my desperation at having had to live through almost twelve hours without easy access to such iPhone applications  as the weather station, twitter and email on the go and rather than being met by the usual derisory comments reserved for technogeeks I got a dose of commiseration.
 
In fact Überfriendly Phone Company Guy turned out to be just as much of an addict and flashed his own iPhone for my perusal as he fixed my problem in under 15 seconds (In fact such “fixing” involved pressing two buttons contemporaneously for 15 seconds – I had stopped at 10 fearing the worst). Having solved my problem in record time we took to comparing the iPhone applications – those geeky little programs that have placed the iPhone light years ahead of competition.
 
You see, you can download almost any kind of app (short for application) on the iPhone and although I have not yet found one that makes the morning coffee I have found ones that, among other things, turn your phone into a compass, a spirit level, a bill splitter, a gaming arcade, a meteorological office, a portable bookshop, a spiritual guide, a keep fit guru, a quiz-box, a super-camera and much much more.
 
Meeting fellow iPhone geeks now unearths memories of those years of youth when exchanging Panini stickers was the norm. “Ghandi, ghandi, ghandi” (“I’ve got that one” thrice repeated) was the  mantra of the collector that would be sung to one’s counterpart indicating ownership of most of the unwanted doubles that were being exhibited. In the case of the iPhone there is a sense of shared secret embarrassment as the weirdest of apps are unearthed and compared.
 
In fact the comparison soon becomes a mutual admission of the most useless purchase one has made. “Coming out” and openly admitting that geeky app hidden somewhere on your iPhone is an important step in the quasi-masonic world of iPhone users. Which is the stage Überfriendly Guy (henceforth to be known as UG) and I reached, at which point I whipped out my coup de grace – the iStethoscope – an application that supposedly can check your heart beat using your iPhone and a set of headphones. UG just smiled the sort of smile Brasilian footballers would smile at the Bolivian football team in any game played at a normal altitude and pointed to a button in the middle of his iPhone app collection. There it stood, seemingly innocuous with a couple of squiggly lines as its identifying logo.
 
What was it? What was the Big Squiggly Unknown on UG’s iPhone? I would soon get to know as UG activated it and set his iPhone flat on the table. The screen immediately changed to a white picture lined with straight parallel lines. A needle ran along these lines leaving a thick black mark and as UG banged on the table the needle went berserk leaving wider black marks… “You see”, UG remarked smugly “a seismometer on my iPhone”. He had won. He was the Guru of Geekness for the day. For, as we both agreed, when in hell would any of us ever find a seismograph useful?
 
Umbria and Tuscany
The next day I was on a plane to Pisa with my final destination being Mercatale di Cortona in the south of Tuscany bordering on Umbria. The idea was a six day holiday during which we would discover the pleasures of both regions taking in the scenery, imbibing the great wines and, above all, eat the wonderful foods of these culinary heavens on earth. Thank God for the iPhone without which I could not have browsed through the net at Pisa Airport and got out of an ugly situation involving three rejected credit cards through no major fault of my own. I must here thank my Maltese global bank for their extreme availability in reactivating a card that I had not used for ages and that had had a death sentence decreed upon it for the simple fact of having missed a monthly payment back in October.
 
Anyway, words of thanks are due to the guys working at the credit card answer phones who gave the lie to the myth that credit card companies are only a phone call away for assistance 24/7. It’s not that easy and the truth is that they are only at the other end of the line for comforting words of understanding and to inform you that you best call during business hours to solve your “problems”.
 
This could have meant sleeping at Pisa airport until monday morning notwithstanding the fact that there were enough funds in my respective accounts. Thankfully a resourceful, forward thinking planning had led to my carrying the right amounts of cash on my self. A furious negotiation and a considerable monetary guarantee later I was finally in my rental car heading south to the Umbrian border – land of wild boar sauces, truffled delicacies and the occasional glass of Montepulciano.
 
Having surprised whoever we had to surprise in the tiny village of Pienza (stunning), having toured the beautiful views of the Trasimeno lake (site of the great victory by Hannibal over the Romans)
and having dined on a wonderful supper Chez Mimmi in Mercatale (absolutely divine) we settled down in the first of our B&B’s – a charming outhouse that used to serve as living quarters for a tobacco grower. Next morning, the wake up call from our fellow travellers included the big question: had we heard about the earthquake yet?
 
Shocking
It turned out that as I was fast asleep snoring off the house wine and cinghiale a huge tremor had struck in Abruzzo – a region away, a few hundred kilometres away from Perugia (one of our planned visits) causing huge damage and probably many deaths. You know the story by now but to me, lost in the misty Tuscan morning with the sound of birds as the only signs of life this was a shocking piece of news. My mind did not immediately wander back to UG’s seismograph but you do get that little tingle down your spine when you notice how close to the epicentre of a major earthquake you were.
 
The signs in our area were minor. The chickens on the farms laid less eggs than usual but on the whole there were no horses going wild or dogs baying through the night as one would expect. I must confess that for the first few days of my holiday, cut off as I was from most forms of news, the full extent of the damage and scale was not clear to me. As I wandered from tiny village to tiny village completely entranced by the sights, sounds and tastes of this beautiful heart of Lo Stivale I was quasi-oblivious to the tragedy unfolding a few kilometres south-east to where I stood.
 
Even visiting such historic places as Assisi, Siena, and Perugia one is reminded of just how exposed to danger the regions of Italy are. If it is not an earthquake then it is a volcano, a flooding river or, in the case of Venice, the sea, that is threatening your existence. I had visited Pompeii when on another holiday and seen first hand the horrible reminders of a volcanic explosion. The roof of Assisi’s main temple was another stark reminder of the unquantifiable damage that can be caused to the cultural heritage.
 
Ground-Breaking
The trip back to Luxembourg gave me enough time to read and catch up with the news. Berlusconi’s government was doing its utmost to react in a timely and efficient manner to the crisis. Gone was the Presidente Internazionale full of swagger and bravado that we had witnessed during the G20 summits and here was a down-to-earth Presidente setting time-frames for recovery. I must say that although Berluska’s refusal of foreign monetary assistance was somewhat baffling, his handling of the early reaction was somewhat encouraging. As he had done with the Campania Rubbish Crisis, Berlusconi is intent on setting time frames for rebuilding and reconstruction. He is very wary of the diffidence of the people who have seen similar tragedies take ages to heal (think Florence in ’66, Irpinia in ’77 and Avellino in ’80) and tent villages that remain standing years after the tragedy is forgotten.
 
Berlusconi wants time frames for reconstruction and the opposition, disparate as it is, seems still intent on the sensational opportunism that is often engendered by bipartisan systems. The latest call is for Berlusconi to scrap the “Progetto Sul Ponte” and dedicate all resources to the rebuilding of L’Aquila and Abruzzo. There is a sense of lack of belief in what can be done and ironically it is coming from the supposed left side of Italian politics.
 
Don’t lay too much blame for their defeatism. They are discouraged by a system that allows faulty buildings (cheap cement and substitutes), that allows buildings in areas that have been declared unviable due to their being exposed to seismic shifts, that denies necessary funds to be dedicated to Rapid Reaction Planning and that ends up inaugurating a hospital in a region fully exposed to earthquakes that is absolutely inoperable the day after the first earthquake strikes. The story has a familiar ring to it. Friends of Friends taking the appalti (tenders) and delivering sub-quality structures not caring one bit about the people who live there. Politicians allowing such farces to happen either because this brings them the mazzette (backhanders) or the voti (votes). It’s sad really, but you really get to see how Italy is just another home away from home.
 
Under the Tuscan Sun
So I spent my run up to the Easter break in the hills and valleys of Toscana. The trip is highly recommendable. It is a pity that the best link to this region is run by FlyUnfair. The latest farce with FlyUnfair is the idea of adding checked luggage. I was worried that the extra sughi and aceti I had bought would bounce me into the FlyUnfair second tier of 15 euros per extra kilo. So I went online and tried to check in extra luggage.
 
You can. Of course you can. You can check in as many extra suitcases as you like at the added cost of 10 euro per item. What the FlyUnfair site does not tell you while you are punching in the credit card details under the false hope that you are thus gaining extra 15kg leeway is that the Total Combined Weight of All Your Suitcases can never exceed 15kg anyway. Thankfully I checked the FAQs in time and did not incur any extra useless costs. Really, the only reason I will go on using FlyUnfair is that certain connections are only reachable through them.
 
Ca’ di Gosto
Before I wish you a Happy Easter I have to share a wonderful secret with you. There’s a Bed and Breakfast carefully hidden in the hills close to Umbertide in the province of Perugia. It is a paradise on earth complete with farm animals, lovely places for walks and an interior décor that is absolutely stunning. David and Jenny who run the place are a charming couple. Their food is out of this world coming straight from the farm to your table. A good rental vehicle is strongly recommended for the visit (as is a good sense of orientation to find the place) but it is definitely worth the while. You can find a little corner of paradise right here: http://www.slowcooking.homestead.com. Trust me on this one.
 
Have a great Easter and take it easy on the food.
 
Jacques has been away from http://www.akkuza.com and will be away for a bit more for the Easter break. We’ll be back before you can download another iPhone app.

This article and accompanying Bertoon appeared in the Malta Independent on Sunday (12.04.09).

All eyes were on London this week as the leaders of the world’s countries who think they count most met to try to solve the globe’s economic and financial woes while protesters dressed in anything from polar bear suits to hooded tops wreaked the kind of senseless chaos that passes for making a point nowadays. London meant that the UK was playing host country and that world leaders would be entertained by Queen Bess and her unrelenting husband Philip.
 
All this lent to transforming the daily news into an interesting read as the international tiffs and disagreements on economic formulas shared the same pages as streams of opinion columns analysing the sartorial choices of Michelle Obama. Why we persist in wondering what the better halves of elected representatives say or do is a mystery to me – unless of course we are talking of President Sarkozy’s wife showing up somewhere in a skimpy dress (in which case I would of course be in the front row). On the other hand we were gently reminded of the usefulness of protocol and the importance of decor thanks to kind folks like Berluska and Prince Philip.
 
I spotted a hilarious video online of Queen Liz saying “Does he have to be so loud?” to other leaders just after Berlusconi broke up a photo session yelling “Barack Obama” while skating quickly towards the “tanned President” (His words not mine) in an obvious backside-licking disposition. The Obamas were the center of attraction and outshadowed other willing world saviours like Sarkozy, Merkel and Brown. The European trio had already had a hard time trying to find a point of agreement on how best to face the financial disasters that still lie ahead, all they needed was an American president eager to secure the best world deal within which to place his financial stimulus package back home and Tokio and Beijing chefs doing their own part to belittle any European idea.
 
Yes they can
The actual goings on at the G20 summit were somewhat confusing. On Thursday it was all doom and gloom as reports coming from London seemed to highlight the divergence between the great powers and there seemed to be no chance for a positive outlook. Friday morning’s papers however reported a successful, world changing and stabilising agreement that caught all onlookers by surprise. Somehow you still get the nagging feeling that the reassurances from Obama that the agreement was “by any measure historic” and that “the patient (referring to the world economy) is stabilised” are not entirely spot on.
 
OK tax havens will be severely hit. There are two categories of those and the country in which I reside breathed a sigh of relief when it narrowly avoided the Black List and was instead lumped with the Grey Listers – those who have already been warned to change (read asked politely) but who still persist in not changing their ways. Failing nations will have a $500 billion fund to plunder at the IMF and troubled economies will soon find a $250 billion global ‘overdraft’ facility. Which does not mean that you will be receiving a cheque in the mail to relieve your financial worries any time soon.
 
The fat cows have long run away and governments are only just coming round to the idea of actually arresting and responsibilising culprits. The problem, as Italian comic Beppe Grillo likes to point out only too often to anyone willing enough to listen, is that the banks have long been in bed with politicians, lawyers, notaries, accountants and economists and that it becomes ever more difficult to punish someone and recover anything when this would mean bringing the whole system down. Which might be the only lead we could have to understanding the No Global / Anarchic movement which blames anything from MacDonald’s Burgers to Windows in Main Streets for the world’s ills and appears at every G20 summit in order to persuade the world leaders with a manifestation of violence and disorder.
 
Autochthonous
While the world’s elected leaders met in London trying to solve real and tangible problems, Labour’s unelected Leader of the Opposition was busy lighting a fire at an anachronistic monument, delivering an anachronistic speech and firing up another anachronistic debate among the Maltese nation. And we gladly indulged. Settegiugnoists were pitted against Independentists or Republicans or Freedomists. The Global Financial Crisis was after all only a minor event compared to the earth moving occasion when a rental contract was not renewed and the autochthonous indigenous peoples of the Maltese islands felt liberated enough to transform themselves into an economically independent nation. Economically Independent of course meant that we were free to choose the size of our begging bowl when running from Italy to China to Korea in search of some form of material justification for Malta’s own version of the Libyan Jamahariya.
 
Yes. You may have guessed that I would never vote for Freedom Day as National Day in any referendum. I am quite sure that if Inhobbkom J is half as intelligent as he shows he is then he too knows deep down that there is about as much significance in that hideous monument as there is in certain other monuments that adore roundabouts in this country. He does need to play the people’s song though and since playing the Freedom Day card is all about recovering the Mintoffian fringe then so be it… a night at the Waterfront is all that it takes.
 
Don’t get me wrong. I am very proud of my nation’s history and particularly so of it’s two steps towards nationhood – Independence and Republic Day. In my mind that is where it all starts and stops – and by making such a statement I am aware that I too am taking part in the anachronistic debate. It will take more than two political parties “agreeing” for us to learn to recognise what makes us a nation and give us something to celebrate together in much the same way as the Americans have their 4th of July and the French have their 14th July.
 
This whole business of “the parties agreeing” is a bit the crux of the problem. They are after all the reason behind so much crass division and partisanism. How they can con themselves (before even trying to con the people) that simply by giving their nihil obstat then we would all rush out bearing blue and red banners on our new National Day is beyond my comprehension. But they do believe that the world begins and ends with them. The two parties – the all pervasive organisations that should long have faded into the background and yet still haunt our everyday lives.
 
Father of Modern Democracy
Dom Mintoff would probably love to be remembered as the Father of the Republic. Eddie Fenech Adami (as we long knew him, even in the days when Xandir Malta would not pronounce his name) would love to be remembered as the man who ushered in representative democracy with the call of “Work, Justice and Liberty”. No matter how you read the turbulent years that were the early eighties you have to hand it to EFA for having stood strong and hard against adversity while moderating the more violent souls within his own party thus avoiding an all out civil war. Instead through civil disobedience and the adoption of a centre-left ideology that charmed many EFA led Malta to the ultimate target of EU membership (again, a great day but far from being a candidate for National Day).
 
In 1981 EFA and the party he led felt cheated by an electoral result that stank of gerrymandering. The representation in Parliament did not reflect the will of the people. Worse than that was the fact that as a result of this skewed representation the government of the day was a government of a national minority. EFA’s party rightly embarked on a process that would prove scary and required a strong resolve in the face of a violent and ignorant mass that was oftentimes protected by the very government that was supposed to be a government for the people. I was but a child then (though I would not claim to have vivid memories when I was 5 years old… it was more like eight, nine and ten) and I remember the fear in the eyes of my parents and close family memberes when events like Tal-Barrani and the murder of Raymond Caruana unfolded.
 
All this was a struggle in the name of democracy and proper representation. In the end common sense prevailed and after having narrowly avoided an ugly trouser leg of time we ended up with new rules for elections and a guarantee that a result as skewed as the 81 election would never happen again. Unfortunately nowadays, the very party that worked so hard in the eighties for proper democratic representation is often embroiled in rule-bending exercises that hardly befit the heritage of which EFA is entitled to be so proud. The Wasted Vote dilemma of the last general election was milked dry by Nationalist exponents and the same party has done close to nothing to ensure that all wrongs are righted. All it would take is a reasonable national threshold for parties and a guarantee of parliamentary representation. Until that is done then the legacy of President Edward Fenech Adami would all have been in vain.
 
Ambition
Pride and ambition are often necessary ingredients in the development of a nation. In Malta we often find examples of misplaced ambition. Today’s world allows many more people to get their few minutes of fame that Warhol had spoken about. From Big Brother to candidacy for some election or other we can all become famous. Then there are awards – and here I tread a fine line because I could be misconstrued as having some form of whinge.
 
I’ll say it anyway because if I do not nobody will – and since I do not care much anyway I might as well. The Institute of Maltese Journalists has announced its nominations for this year’s Journalism Awards. I must confess that when the first e-journalism awards were handed out I did have an eye on this possible form of recognition for my budding blog. Yet year after year I did notice a funny trend as to nominations being made and when J’accuse failed to get even a mention in the year when it practically put the Maltese blogosphere on the political map (there… the arrogant touch is still there) with quotes and counter-quotes all over the place (to be followed by the blogging flood on the MSM) I sort of gave up on following the awards.
 
So back to this year. As I said, I gave up on the e-journalism bit since the nominations seemed to have as much awareness of what goes on on the net as a Chinese citizen would, but I did take a peep at the nominations for Opinion Articles. I’m sorry but once again the IGM seems to have made a meal of it. My favourite local columnist was nowhere to be seen (and no, I am not referring to myself but to Mark Antony Falzon) and as was the case with the e-journalism the “opinion columnists” that were , let me see how to put it, not exactly the first thing I look for in the papers. Anyways, I seem to have confirmed my suspicions that the whole system in these “awards” is about as reliable as the Eurovision. Tant pis for the importance of journalism in an open democracy.
 
Skill
My parting shot is of a sporting kind. In the week of the international football festival of WC Qualifications it was ironic to see England continue in their resplendent form now that they have a real coach (Italian). It was sad to see Trap’s Ireland not leave Bari with the full booty thus giving the Iti’s a run for the money. The best was saved for last. Brasil woke up from their slumber to beat lowly Peru and save their faces… then came the result that gave me a permanent smile for the rest of the week. The Argies led by that drug guzzling scoundrel of a coach succumbed to the world superpower of Bolivia letting in the beauty of six goals to their one goal. And no… it was not the Davis Cup.
 
Jacques is getting ready for the Easter holidays at http://www.akkuza.com. All angry comments regarding his distate for freedom day may be posted on that site.

J’accuse is away on surprise leave. I had no chance to inform readers beforehand since the first part of my absence involve a surprise visit to some friends. The break will continue till the 14th April. Normal blogging service will resume on the 15th. Until then hold tight and check out the Independent on Sunday.