No Champions League, No Worry

Over here in Hoeilaart, Belgium, it's possible to watch various TV channels that show Champions League matches - but most of them give us the same match, generally involving Liverpool. Yuck! However the other week, surprisingly enough, I was lucky to stumble on Juventus' return to the European elite, which ended happily with a one-nil victory over Zenit St Petersburg.

No such luck tonight. No Juve match on show, but I had been half hoping I would not have to watch their match against Borisov of Bulgaria. Their play has become so irritating that I prefer to watch just the result as it unfolds, on the internet, without enduring the pain of watching the motions. It gives me the occasion to blog instead.

So now I can inform you, dear reader, through this blog, that last night I staged a dramatic walk-out from an event, in reaction to a speech that was underway. However, try as I did throughout today, I couldn't for the life of me remember what the speech was about, or even the nature of the event from which I walked out. You see, I had only been dreaming that I staged a walk-out, and that's the only part I can remember. The reason and the circumstances shall forever remain a mystery...

There, you see, at the half-time whistle we're losing 2-1 against Bate Borisov. Against who??? Ah, but they're champions of Bulgaria, and we're only Juve. They should make a new TV advert (sorry about the grammar): "No Champions League, No Worry".

A national crisis, indeed

More from Malta Today, and Joseph Muscat, who has recently described the immigration issue as a "national crisis".

The Malta today commentator Saviour Balzan had this to say on the subject:

"Muscat is really trying hard to suck up to popular dissent on immigration.
He described it as a national problem. I would rather call it a national
phobia. If there is a national problem it has to be the floods that follow
every rainstorm. That is a national problem."
http://www.maltatoday.com.mt/2008/09/24/sbalzan.html

Thank you, Saviour, for expressing exactly how I feel about this boring issue. My only remark on immigration, other than that it's the classical case of making a mountain out of a molehill, is this. In the 1990s there was a substantial influx of Yugoslavs fleeing that war-torn country, rather similar in scale to the present influx of Africans, but no one raised a whimper then. Maybe, just maybe, no one minded then because Yugoslavs are not black.

Job hunting

Joseph Cuschieri has given up his parliamentary seat, "his only source of income", to make way for the Malta Labour Party's new leader, Joseph Muscat http://www.maltatoday.com.mt/2008/09/24/t2.html

Now, Muscat has "promised" to help Cuschieri find alternative employment "in the private sector or elsewhere". Cuschieri's resignation from parliament was an "altruistic" gesture, showing his love for the party and therefore for the country.

I wonder. From this standpoint, it looks like a gesture of madness. On the MLP's part - they could surely have sacrificed someone else, who is not financially hard up, to make way for the One who Loves Everyone. It was also a jesture of madness on Cuschieri's part, who had legitimately earned his seat in parliament on the strength of the people's votes.

Cuschieri should have told Muscat, "if you wanted to get into parliament you should bloody well have contested the election yourself". But no, The Party comes first and foremost, and no one disobeys Its dictat. Good luck for your job hunting, Mr Cuschieri.

Sissoko and the moon worshipper

The footballer Mohamed Sissoko, normally a strong, hardworking, and efficient midfielder, is paid a salary of hundreds of thousands of euro per year, possibly more than a million per year - to play football for Juventus.

Recently, Sissoko has not been playing well at all, and the reason, admitted by the footballer himself, is that because of his religion he isn't eating anything at all during the day. This is rendering him into a spent force, and it shows painfully well during matches.

This is wrong, and Juventus should take steps to rectify matters. Mr Sissoko should either respect his contract and play football to the best of his ability, or become an Imam and practice his religion as much as he likes. His employers certainly did not contract him to admire his religious devotion. At the very least he should pay them back his wages for as long as this insanity persists.

Ah, but it's his faith, and it should be respected. Why yes, of course. Let's follow this argument to its logical conclusion. There are various faiths. Some people are Buddhists, others are Christian, Muslim, Hindus, worship the sun, et cetera. An office worker of my acquaintance, Mr Gianluigi Buffon, happens to worship the moon and stays awake all night on those nights when the moon is shining in the night sky. On days following these night vigils he is of course unable to do any real work at all at the office. But his employer should "respect" his faith, and allow him to do nothing on those days when he had been worshipping the moon, and pay him his full wages while his non-moon worshipping colleagues have to work harder to make up for Mr Buffon's lack of input. Why yes, of course.

Mr Mohamed Sissoko, you are being paid good money by Juventus, hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of euro, to play football. To play good football, to the best of your ability. Not to play the role of a 21st century version of Mahatma Gandhi.

DISARM THEM ALL!

I'll write it down again, in suitably large lettering:

DISARM THEM ALL!

How many more innocent people, schoolchildren, students, anyone, need to be murdered before the world's leaders realise that there is no place for firearms in a civilised world? Today the gun lobbyists have contributed to another massacre of innocents; this time it's a vocational school in (normally calm and non-violent) Finland.

I've said it before, and I'll never stop saying it, unless a miracle were to happen and a worldwide ban on firearms came into effect (dream on...): it's immoral to manufacture an implement whose only function is to kill a fellow human.

Gun lobbyists, please go to hell. We are sick and tired of watching people die for the sake of your bank accounts.

Mechelen revisited

In the 1980s, there was a Belgian football team that used to do very well in European competitions. They were generally known as Malines, and I believe they used to play in red and yellow outfits. I remember the Italian TV commentator mentioning then that you shouldn't call them by that name, as they would be very annoyed. They call themselves Mechelen, in Flemish (Malines being the name of that city in the French language). It was my first ever inkling of the great linguistic divide that threatens to tear Belgium apart.

Little was I to know that, a quarter of a century later, Mechelen would mean much more to me than just a damn good football team. They're pretty much a spent force nowadays as far as football is concerned, but I now know that Mechelen is a wonderful city. It boasts a huge church tower that was only two-thirds completed, due to lack of funds, various other beautiful monumental buildings, the river Dijle, a large and a small beguinage (sorry, begijnhof) which are historical ex residential districts for single women, outdoor cafes, restaurants, museums. The air is filled by the soft playing of church bells. There are schools for learning how to play "the world's largest musical instrument" on a keyboard.

The place simply oozes charm. No wonder that on a sunny weekend recently, I couldn't resist revisiting the place, 'proudly' showing off the place to my family. In between walking tours, we helped ourselves to lots of pizza from a buffet, at the sunlit Grote Markt, the townhall on one side, the huge St Rumbold cathedral on the other, and a police band playing right in front of us.

Great place. I hope to go back again soon.

These are the pictures I took when I visited Mechelen in August last summer.

Happy birthday Malta!

Today Malta celebrates its Independence Day.

Well, sort of. Actually, no one really celebrates, but unless the day happens to be part of the weekend like this year most Maltese people do appreciate the day off work they get. Otherwise, hardly anyone cares the less about our national day (or is it just one of our FIVE national days?). Which is really a shame, because it was indeed this day, 44 years ago, on 21st September 1964 to be precise, that the Maltese nation came into being after many centuries of occupation by foreign powers.

So why don't we commemorate this crucial event in our history the way it deserves to be? Plain and simple - it's petty partisan politics. The culprits are - first and foremost the Malta Labour Party, followed by the Partit Nazzjonalista, and finally those Maltese people who have allowed these two political parties to lead them by their noses.

It all started in the 1970s, when the Labour government led by Dom Mintoff struck off Independence Day from the list of Malta's public holidays. Mintoff was envious because it was his arch-rivals the Nationalists who had obtained independence for Malta, and went on to create TWO other landmark events to rival Independence Day - Republic Day (the day Malta became a republic in 1973) and "Freedom" Day (the closure of the British military base in 1979). The Nationalists rightly felt it was wrong to write off the day Malta became a nation, and each year, on 21st September, in the face of much harassment often including physical violence, they used to commemorate the day with a political event for its followers. A notorious photograph showing a fat policeman in the act of throwing a sizeable stone during one of these events is in my opinion one of the most emblematic icons of those dark ages.

As remarked in my "In search for a definition of 'time' ", nothing is eternal, and the despised Mintoff/KMB regime eventually came to an end in 1987, to be replaced by the Partit Nazzjonalista in government. The PN restored Independence Day as a national holiday (but not the National day) and to appease "the other lot" maintained "their" feasts as national holidays. We ended up with the ridiculous situation of FIVE national holidays, because in addition to Independence Day, Republic Day and "Freedom" Day, another two days were thrown into the mix for good measure, 8th September (the end of the Great Siege by the Ottoman forces on the ruling Knights of St. John in 1565) and Sette Giugno (when in 1919 the British administration's law enforcers fired on a band of rioters, killing four of them, in Valletta).

Worse than this motley mix of national holidays, the Nationalists committed the sin of hijacking this historical event, turning it into a "Nationalist" feast, rather than a national holiday, by insisting on celebrating the day with a partisan political event, even after it had been officially reinstated as a national holiday. It was OK to do this under the Labour regime, which had tried to write this great event off Malta's history books. But to have the Partit Nazzjonalista, and not the Maltese state, organise the Indipendenza Fest or whatever silly name they choose to call it nowadays, 21 years after its official recognition, is simply asking for the "other" side to ignore the historical implications of the day.

There we go again. Us and the "others". Our national holiday(s), and theirs. Two tribes. It would be funny, if it weren't so tragic. You can immediately tell which political grounding a Maltese person has just by asking them what is the Maltese national holiday. If they lean towards Labour they'll say it's Republic Day. If they are keen Nationalists, they'll tell you it's l-Indipendenza. If they're neither Labour nor keen Nationalists, they won't mention Independence, for fear of appearing partisan. A historical landmark, the day when we Maltese people should celebrate the fact of our nationhood, for reasons of silly and unnecessary pique hijacked by political parties and turned into a matter of national controversy.

What a farce. Thank you MLP. Thank you PN. Sometimes I wonder if we really deserve to be independent...

In search of a definition of 'time'

Nothing is forever. Not even the Nationalist government, or the drydocks problem. The process of change is inexorable, and it affects everything. It affects living things. Individuals age and species evolve. It affects society, urban landscapes, historical monuments, power structures, technology, societal mores, natural landscapes, geography, the shape of continents.

Everything is changing in the universe. Stars come into existence through the contraction of huge clouds of gas, burn themselves out, and eventually either explode or expand into red giants, before contracting into a white dwarf, a neutron star, or a black hole. Our dear old sun will eventually run out of hydrogen, which for another 4 and a half billion years will be undergoing nuclear fusion, turning into helium and providing all that vast amount of energy being produced right now. It will then expand into a red giant, engulfing the inner planets including our own earth, before contracting into a white dwarf the size of our planet, and starting a long, long cooling off process that will last till the end of time.

What was that? The end of time? Is time going to end then? Maybe. I'll be coming to this later. But what, actually, is this concept that we call time?

At a practical level, it's easy enough to explain a unit of time, but only in terms of the concept itself - a day is the amount of time that it takes the earth to rotate once upon its axis. So we're nowhere near giving an explanation of the concept that way. We're just splitting it up into arbitrary slices.

The sensation we feel, of time proceeding from the past into the future, may be the result of our remembering what has occurred in the past. If we didn't have any memory at all, and were only aware of the present instant, I don't think we would have the concept of time at all in our minds. So, for living entities, or rather, entities that are aware and have some form of memory, time would be their subjective experience of being conscious. Like waiting for a bus for an hour. Or holding one's breath underwater for a minute. Before we were born, i.e. before we became aware, for 13 billion years or so, time did not exist at all for us. Neither, in fact, did time have any meaning for us when we were babies - it was just a matter of fulfilling basic natural needs, feeding, breathing, feeling comfortable, defecating. It was only when we became toddlers, when we started to have thoughts, rationalise, process ideas, that time started to 'hang' on our hands. When we are unconscious, say during an operation, time ceases to exist and literally jumps from the moment consciousness dissolves into general anaesthesia to the next subjective moment when we regain consciousness.

So, is time a meaningful concept only in relation to conscious beings? Does time mean anything at all as far as inanimate matter is concerned? Or empty space? Consider the moon, which as far as we know is entirely inanimate. It still takes one year to orbit the sun once, and about 28 days to spin once on its own axis. A block of ice of given mass at given conditions of temperature and pressure takes a specific, precise amount of time to melt completely. Light from the sun reaches the earth in 8 minutes. Any process one may think of takes place in a specific amount of time. But, and here we start to home in on the crux of the matter, something must be happening. And that something, whatever it is, involves the transformation of energy from one form into another, the progression from an unstable state into a more stable state.

The sun is burning itself into a much more stable white dwarf state. An accelerating car is apparently reversing this trend - approaching a more unstable state - but the overall level of stability of the car/fuel package becomes more stable, the high energy content of the petrol having been turned to heat and dissipated as kinetic energy (the fast moving car) which will soon slow down to a halt through friction. You end up with heat energy, inert water vapour and carbon dioxide (instead of high octane petrol), and a stationary car. All the available energy is used up, and nothing else happens, unless we apply more energy to the vehicle through an external force or if we fill it up with yet more fuel.

Musing on the matter the past few days, when I decided to explore the matter of the meaning of the concept of time, the more I thought about it, it seemed to me that time is intimately tied to the expenditure of energy. Any system of measuring time involves something happening, and for anything to happen there must be transformation of energy. To test this idea, I imagined a situation where there was no expenditure of energy at all, where nothing was happening at all. Objects are not moving relative to each other - all atoms are at a standstill, at absolute zero temperature. All stars have burned themselves out, and dissipated all their heat. There is therefore no electromagnetic radiation at all. Absolutely no movement, no flow of energy. Nothing is happening at all! At such a stage, time would be really at a standstill. It wouldn't have any meaning anymore.

I wonder if such a stage will ever be reached. Let's consider our solar system again, very very very far in the future, with our white dwarf sun having cooled to a black dwarf, at absolute zero temperature. Will the outer planets, Jupiter, Saturn, etc, also at absolute zero temperature, still be orbiting it? Maybe tidal forces will lock them all into the same frozen position, so that all objects within the whole system wouldn't be moving at all relative to each other. If we go even further into the future, maybe the whole galaxy, or groups of galaxies, will be motionless relative to each other, and there will be no exchange of energy whatsoever. Nothing will be happening, and the concept of time will be utterly meaningless.

Maybe that's the final destiny of the universe. Time came into being, as an integral part of the universe, when the Big Bang unleashed all that unimaginable amount energy, with the consequent formation of matter, the stars and everything that's been happening since then, as the universe winds itself down to a state of overall uniformity of energy level.

So, based on the above considerations, I am proposing a definition of time that may seem a bit bizarre, but is entirely the result of my own thoughts on the subject: time is the flow of energy from a state of instability to equilibrium.

Maybe, hopefully, I will in future arrive at a better definition. An entire winter of long training runs is beckoning, so there will be ample opportunity for further introspection. For the time being, I'm more than happy with the result, which I had once thought to be an impossible task to achieve.

Juventus 1-0 Zenit St Petersburg

Three points against Zenit St Petersburg, a very difficult team to beat, is not a bad start at all to Juve's Champions League campaign, on their return to European competition. OK, they didn't set any houses on fire, but there's enough time for that.

The Champions League is back

The Champions League is back, and after a forced two-year absence Juventus are back in it, but I'm not sure it's such a good thing. For Juve, this is a jinxed competition. They reached the final seven times, and lost five of those finals. The first time they won the competition in 1985 more than 30 fans were killed by Liverpool hooligans. Rather than a victory, it was a great tragedy. Juve then won the trophy again in 1996, against Ajax on penalties.

I'm not sure it's such a good thing that Juve are back in the Champions League, because for us fans it's normally an occasion for much anxiety, and only occasionally do we have reason to celebrate. Somehow Juventus, who are so authoritative, almost arrogant in Italy, are transformed into an ordinary team when playing at European level. I often end up almost wishing they would be eliminated, to avoid undergoing further anxiety and stress!

But then, reason tells me that the same factor applies to most other teams. Only one team ends up winning the Champions League - all other contenders' efforts end up in heartbreak, and some of them are very ambitious indeed.

So let's welcome the fact that Juventus are back in the running, again aiming to achieve European glory. The final this year will take place in Rome, the venue of their last victory in 1996. My forecast for the final: Juventus - Inter 3-0.

(Two blogs on the same day - and this was supposed to be a "low blogging activity" day...)

God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule

As long as Juventus are still in it, Champions League midweek means limited blogging activity on my part.

Today I'll just add a link to a "news report" from a satirical website, which (but for some fundamental drawbacks) could well be a true story. It certainly provides food for thought. I just love the picture with the caption :-) Here's the link: http://www.theonion.com/content/node/28151

In the meantime, I'm still working on the definition of 'time'. But I can't guarantee a result any too soon. A definition of 'time' is rather a tall order...

Beyond help

At the office, we often encounter a sign in the (default) French language, pasted on coffee machines, at the lifts, lavatories, and so on: HORS SERVICE - out of order.

Given this frequent precedent, what would one make of the following sign, in large black letters on a white background, stuck prominently on an office door?

"HORSE SERVICE"

The notice may be given any one of several different interpretations:

1. 'Out of order' in misspelt French; or
2. Service given here, which is normally provided by a horse; or
3. Your horse serviced here (for those who have foregone the use of cars and public transport); or
4. The writer is out of his mind; or
5. The writer is just trying to be funny.

Well, actually, the poster has provided an unintended and interesting result. Anyone who visits the office has a different reaction to the notice. Some colleagues go straight to option 5, and really do see the funny side. Others cannot make heads or tails, and actually ask for the meaning. When they get an answer that is even more cryptic than the message itself, they confirm in their minds what they were already sure of anyway. Interpretation no. 4 - this man is beyond help. There have also been a couple of No.1's, the bad French option. Up till the moment of going to press, there have been no requests for services to horses or by horses.

I have to say, it's not only an amusing experiment, but it also provides quite an insight into people's sense of humour... :-)

Marathon X

So far, this blog space has failed to live up to its name. I've written about a wide variety of subjects, but not running. This is mostly due to the fact that my running activities have been at a low ebb since a good number of months. A persistent hamstring injury kept me grounded for a number of weeks, and by the time I had re-started my training, from scratch, in mid-July I was brought down by a fever and was forced to take several more weeks off training. I have already had the occasion to remark before that this has not been an easy summer for me.

I did, however, manage to stage a decent recovery, which may just be good enough to reach the objective that I had set myself before summer. I had been trying to decide where to run my next marathon, and the most convenient date looked like late February, exactly the date of the Malta marathon. And what could be more appropriate, than to run my Xth marathon in my home country, where I ran my first seven marathons?

Today morning, for the first time since my injury, I have done a long run of 1h20m, for a distance of about 15km. If there are no further serious mishaps this winter, I should just be able to build my long runs up to a marathon on 1 March, so as to combine a late winter break in Malta (at a time when we would have grown utterly sick of the dreary grey and wet Belgian winter) with my Xth marathon, which would be simply fantastic.

There. Now that I've committed myself, I'll have to give it my very best try.

Collect 10 pounds from each player

When we were young, we wished we were older so that we could do the things that grown-ups do. When we are old, we wish we were younger, so that we can do the things that young people do. Somewhere in the middle, there must be a happy medium, but it lasts just a handful of years.

I'm now past that medium, and the numbers are beginning to get a bit scary. But there's no need to dread each birthday, "being one year older", which is actually untrue as on the "happy birthday" we're only one day older than the day before. In fact, there is actually good cause for celebration as the numbers get ever bigger.

I've decided to turn this into a competition, or rather a challenge. I'm already making a collection of marathon runs - up till now I've managed nine, and I'm aiming to reach as high a number as possible. Each new completed marathon is another feather in my cap (I'll be writing more on this subject soon).

Now, I'm working on another type of collection - years of age... I already consider it quite an achievement to have reached the age of 46, and the count gets more impressive with each birthday. Imagine if I were to reach the age of 90 - now that would be a great achievement. But there's no big hurry. I'll just do my best to enjoy the process.

Survival tip of the day

Don't take life too seriously. We only have one life each, and it's too short and precious for anyone to be able to afford wasting good chunks of it. So let's just enjoy as much as we can the fact that we're here while we're here.

Lies, lies, lies

How do you prove a strong suspicion, for which you have no evidence? You don't.

What do you do if you are given an explanation that feels very much like a blatant lie? Or is plain ridiculous? It depends on the circumstances, but I can well understand why so many people adopt a cynical outlook.

One principle you have to follow, if you wish to survive, is not to rock the boat too much, as you would well risk falling overboard.

Time

Time, is flowing like a river...

I prefer the idea that time flows better than the more common saying that time flies. But my idea of time flowing is not even that of a river, which flows too freely and rapidly. Actually, it's not time that is flowing at all, but the world that is flowing as time goes by. It flows slowly, very slowly, almost imperceptibly. One day follows the other, weeks succeed each other, and nothing seems to change very much, if at all. It's only by means of a fast forward, or a fast rewind through pictures, videos or documents more than ten years old, that the change is noticed, and how.

Let's rewind by a few hundred years, to the time of the Renaissance. It hardly seems like the same world at all. It's almost like a different planet, or an imaginary reality. And yet, it was as real as we feel real now. Change then was also imperceptible, but it did happen, proceeding along, year after year, going on into centuries, until we arrived up to this point. Except that it wasn't we then, and that's one very relevant factor of change. Not only does the landscape, the townscape, the culture, the countries' borders, the leaders, the way of life, change. The actors themselves get older, the older ones die, and children grow up and themselves become the main actors in society.

I have myself experienced the fast forward effect of the passage of time. When I left my previous job five years ago, I made it a point to revisit my ex colleagues every now and then. The first time it was as if I'd never left, we got along so well and joked about this and that as all friends do. The second time, there were a couple of new employees there, who didn't know me, but I didn't mind, and I again had a great time with my ex colleagues. After a few visits, a good proportion of the employees at my previous workplace didn't know me, and I discovered the considerable effect of the passage of just a handful of years.

This gradual, almost imperceptible change happens everywhere, in all walks of life.

On a grander scale, we have life itself. The baby becomes a child. If she is lucky and happens to be born in a developed society, she receives education according to the norms of the time, and enters adulthood, gradually establishing herself as an active member of society for several decades. She notices newcomers establishing themselves, and older members of society retiring. Eventually it's her turn to retire, and then, what? Hopefully, she will remain active, and will give her contribution to society up till the end of her life.

And still, time keeps on flowing, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, the face of the world as we knew it changes beyond recognition. In just a hundred years, our society will consist of an entirely different set of people. Who knows, maybe someone will even be reading these words...

But what, exactly, is the nature of time? Well, to mention just one example: it's time to go to bed. This question I will hopefully explore another time.

Durbuy, Belgium - August 2008

Deep in the hilly region of the Ardennes, in south east Belgium, lies a gem of a little town called Durbuy. It used to pride itself in being the smallest town in the world (or whatever one could called the French "ville" in English), but lost that dubious claim in 1977 when it joined several neighbouring villages to become a commune. As is my custom, I have taken some pictures of this place, to enhance my album collection in picasa, and the appearance of this blogspace.

Jankovic's challenge

In the US Open ladies' tennis semi-final, Jelena Jankovic was having a heated rally with Elena Dementieva in the decisive game of the match. At one point Jankovic stopped and raised her arm to challenge a failure by the line judge to call a Dementieva stroke out. Within 5 seconds, a video replay confirmed that she was absolutely right, and she was awarded the point.

What a wonderful rule! The rally might well have gone on, with the ball having gone out of play and the match officials wrongly allowing play to go on, and the point possibly going to Dementieva. At this crucial point, the wrong decision might well have allowed Dementieva to get back into the match, possibly going on to win it, all on the back of a wrong decision by a bleary-eyed line judge.

This was the best proof, if any were needed, of the fairness of the video replay rule. The players take it upon themselves to "risk" losing one of a limited number of challenge calls available to them, to safeguard their right for a proper line call. Tennis match officials are humble enough to concede that they are only human and therefore fallible, and allow the players, who are those that really stand to gain or lose a lot through their decisions, to verify these not necessarily foolproof decisions. What could be fairer than this?

If only football were just as democratic...

A naive cynic

Health warning: if you prefer to read "what a wonderful world" thoughts and feel-good powerpoint messages, please don't read any further. Of course, anyone who is reading this, and who sees the previous sentence will read right on, even if they do actually prefer happy thoughts and always keep forwarding those irritating soppy emails.

A colleague today noticed and remarked that I'm too cynical. I think he meant sarcastic, but anyone of the two terms would have been correct. What an awful combination. Someone, please, can I have a character transplant?

I can't deny it, and I can't help it. I see too much hypocrisy around, too many contradictions, too much mediocrity, cruelty, suffering, injustice, irrationality and sheer ignorance. Once a person, who meant well, told me I'm a baħnan, which is Maltese for naive, too good, innocent, stupid, honest all together in a single two-syllable word. This was because I insisted on not taking an unfair advantage over others. On occasion I'm told I'm naive in assuming that an event, a person, a competition, whatever, is honest unless the contrary is proven. It seems the opposite is the standard practice. One should assume that people are corrupt and processes are flawed.

So, am I cynical or naive? Surely it can't be both? Maybe getting older is corrupting me too. Not my honesty, but my world outlook. So many people preach Christian values, and then practice anything but Christianity - except of course for the obligatory Sunday mass... So many people are nice to others, and then speak the worst about them behind their backs. Country leaders utter hostile messages couched in diplomatic language. Politicians say the right things in front of the cameras, and do the exact opposite in private. A foreign footballer transferred to a new team says it was his lifelong dream to join them. Yeah, right, of course...

How do you prove a strong suspicion, for which you have no evidence? You cannot.

Grande Cannavaro!

When Italy won the 2006 football World Cup final, the world's best loved sports administrator, FIFA president Josef Blatter, declined from presenting the World Cup to the Italian captain Fabio Cannavaro, and sent UEFA president Lennart Johansson to carry out the unsavoury task for him.

Blatter's rude jesture left a sour taste, and created considerable antagonism towards him. By a stroke of genius, Cannavaro has now managed to get his sweet revenge over Blatter. The FIFA president was in Italy, awarding the Azzurri the right to carry the World champions logo on their shirts. In front of a bevy of journalists, with the trophy in full prominent view, Cannavaro, while making his speech for the occasion, referred to this incident and "invited" Blatter to make up for his previous omission by consigning him the trophy, there and then.

A clearly embarrassed Blatter stepped up, and was practically forced to present the World Cup to a hugely grinning Cannavaro, amid loud applause from those present.

Grande Cannavaro!

The language question

Should I write in English, or in my Maltese mother tongue? I can express myself much better in my native language, but hardly anyone can understand it! On the other hand, those people most likely to read my blog do understand Maltese perfectly well. Still, I wouldn't like to strike off a billion or so persons from the potential readership of my writings...

I could maintain two blogs, one in each language. It wouldn't be such a bad idea, but then again, I think it would be one blog too many. Come to think of it, this dilemma is a perfect reflection of the main disadvantage faced by the Maltese language. Any works (of much better value than my puerile efforts) in Maltese can only be appreciated by a handful of readers, which is why many authors don't consider it to be worth the effort, and prefer to use English, with its huge potential readership.

Today, I'll make an exception to my rule of using only English in my blog, which rule also happens to be a useful method to practice my English. I have sent the following text to the Kunsill Nazzjonali tal-Ilsien Malti (National Council of the Maltese Language). The text deals with the thorny question of the use of words of English origin in spoken and written Maltese.

Il-kliem li jidħol fil-Malti mill-Ingliż
Tonio Privitelli

Fid-diskussjoni dwar kliem li jidħol fil-Malti mill-Ingliż, importanti li wieħed jiddistingwi bejn kliem li diġà għandu ekwivalenti bil-Malti, imma li ġieli jew spiss jingħad bl-Ingliż, u kliem ieħor li m'għandux dan l-ekwivalenti bil-Malti.

Kliem li diġà għandu ekwivalenti bil-Malti

Għandu jitqies li hu Malti kliem bħal "trabil", "trejn", "woxingmaxin", "wan, tu, tri,..."? Allaħares! Dan mhux kliem bil-Malti, imma kliem bl-Ingliż li, sfortunatament, jintuża minn bosta Maltin li għandhom vizzju jaqilbu l-ħin kollu mill-Malti għall-Ingliż fl-istess sentenza. Dan hu r-riżultat ta' formazzjoni edukattiva tat-tfal Maltin żbilanċjata favur il-lingwa Ingliża, li ħafna drabi jitgħallmu l-kelma bl-Ingliż qabel ma jitgħallmu l-kelma Maltija. L-aktar eżempju ovvju ta' dan huwa n-numri.

Ħa nagħti eżempju ta' sentenza tipika li faċilment ħafna tingħad fit-taħdit ta' kuljum: "Dur fuq il-left u ibqa' sejjer sat-trafiksajn tan-nowentri." Diskors bħal dan jinstema' l-ħin kollu, imma allura għandna nikkunsidraw il-kliem "left", "trafiksajn" u "nowentri", għax jitlissen spiss mill-Maltin, bħala kliem bil-Malti? Nerġa' ngħid, allaħares! Għax inkunu qed veru nirriduċu lsien artna li tant inħobbu għal parodija.

Xi eżempji tipiċi (nibda bis-sentenza li tajt hawn fuq):

left - bil-Malti "xellug" ngħidu!
traffic sign - sinjal tat-traffiku
no entry - ma tistax tidħol
trouble - inkwiet
train - ferrovija
washing machine - magna tal-ħasil
wheelchair - siggu tar-roti
chairman - president
bus - karozza tal-linja, jew xarabank
curtain ring - ħolqa tal-purtieri
bowl - skutella
pool - pixxina jew vaska

Għal din il-kategorija ta' kliem, m'għandix lanqas dubju li din ix-xejra ta' "kollox jgħaddi" fejn jidħol l-ilsien Malti hemm bżonn tinqata' darba għal dejjem. Dan mhu xejn għajr għażż lingwistiku, u l-Kunsill Nazzjonali tal-Ilsien Malti għandu jiġġieled dan il-punt bis-saħħa kollha li għandu, partikolarment mal-għalliema (u mhux it-tiċers!) u x-xandara. Dawn tal-aħħar naħseb xieraq li tal-inqas fejn jidħol ix-xandir pubbliku l-Gvern għandu jesiġi li jkollhom standard tal-Malti xejn inqas minn eċċellenti. Ix-xandara, speċjalment tat-televiżjoni, għandhom influwenza tremenda fuq il-mod kif il-poplu jħaddem l-ilsien Malti. Dan mingħajr ma nsemmi kemm hu fundamentali li ndaħħluha fil-kuxjenza nazzjonali li l-lingwa materna tagħna hija l-Malti, u mhux l-Ingliż. L-Ingliż hu lingwa barranija, u hemm bżonn li fl-iskejjel jitqies bħala tali - voldieri jingħata t-tieni prijorità. M'aħniex aljeni minn pjaneta oħra. Biljuni ta' nies madwar id-dinja għandhom din is-sistema, u ma jsibu l-ebda problema biex jintegraw fl-isfera internazzjonali bil-lingwa franka (l-Ingliż jew il-Franċiż) li jkunu tgħallmu bħala lingwa barranija.

Kliem li m'għandux ekwivalenti bil-Malti

Hemm kliem li mill-Ingliż daħal fil-Malti u issa ġie aċċettat minn kulħadd. Fosthom nista' nsemmi: kompjuter, swiċċ, friġġ, standard, kejk, trakk, ċans. Dawn, tajjeb jew ħażin, daħlu u ħadd mhu se jneħħihom. Rebħu lill-"konkorrenza" li seta' kellhom minn ngħidu aħna "torta" u "opportunità".

Nixtieq hawnhekk nenfasizza l-kunċett tal-konkorrenza, u se nuża l-eżempju li semma l-Professur Albert Borg f'intervista li ta lit-Times of Malta - space shuttle.

Naqbel mal-Profs. Borg li idealment kieku noħolqu espressjoni li tuża kliem bil-Malti li jeżisti diġà. Għal "space shuttle" huwa ħareġ bl-idea ta' mekkuk - ġej u sejjer. It-Taljani u l-Franċiżi jużaw "navicella" u "navette". L-idea hi ta' vettura li "tbaħħar" min-naħa għall-oħra, imma fl-ispazju. Il-Malti għandu kelma għaliha din, u hija "lanċa" (waħda ġejja u l-oħra sejra...). Allura nistgħu nissuġġerixxu "lanċa spazjali", jew "lanċa tal-ispazju". Kemm tkun isbaħ kieku nibdew nirreferu għal-lanċa spazjali, u mhux għall-ispejsxatil!

Naturalment, biex espressjoni bħal din tiġi aċċettata mill-poplu, trid issir ħidma b'dan l-għan. Espressjoni ġdida tindara bir-repetizzjoni, pereżempju fuq ix-xandir u fil-gazzetti. U lil dawn, il-linji gwida jkollhom jingħataw minn kumitat għall-istudju tat-termini, taħt il-kappa tal-KNIM, li jittratta bir-reqqa din u espressjonijiet oħrajn bħal p.e. roadmap (mappa tar-rotta, għaliex le?), mad cow (ġenn il-baqar), skyscraper (ħakkiek is-sema?), zebra crossing (marki taż-żebra). Eżempji bħal dawn jeħtieġu ħsieb, immaġinazzjoni u ispirazzjoni, u ma jissolvewx fi ftit minuti. F'din il-fażi ta' ħsieb, il-kumitat jilqa' suġġerimenti għal xi "kolp ta' ġenju" mingħand il-pubbliku Malti. Mijiet ta' mħuħ ifittxu ispirazzjoni jafu jwasslu ferm aktar minn ħamsa!

Sakemm jinstabu s-soluzzjonijiet, jibqa' jintuża l-kliem bl-ilsien barrani, li jinkiteb b'ortografija barranija. Din tkun il-fażi tal-konkorrenza jew tat-tranżizzjoni. Il-konkorrenza tkun bejn "lanċa spazjali" u "space shuttle" bl-Ingliż. Il-kumitat tat-termini tal-KNIM jagħmel ħiltu kollha biex jippromwovi l-użu tal-espressjoni magħżula bil-Malti. Jekk din ma tindarax, jew il-kumitat jibqa' ma jsib l-ebda alternattiva għall-kelma bl-Ingliż, allura b'mod naturali u mingħajr skossi tibda sseħħ fażi ta' tranżizzjoni, u aktar ma jgħaddi żmien tibda titfaċċa, naqra naqra, l-espressjoni bl-Ingliż miktuba kif tinħass bil-Malti - spejsxatil... Dan seħħ u għadu jseħħ bi kliem bħal "baġit", li jidher li rebħet il-konkorrenza ta' "estimi", imma ġieli anke titħalla bl-Ingliż; u "netwerk" li bħalissa qed tikkompeti bl-aħrax ma' "xibka".

L-appell tiegħi lill-Kunsill Nazzjonali tal-Ilsien Malti hu li jirreżisti t-tentazzjoni li jirrikorri mill-ewwel għall-użu ta' kliem Ingliż miktub kif jinħass bil-Malti. Dan il-proċess għandu jkun wieħed kemm jista' jkun naturali (bħalma seħħ bil-kliem kompjuter, baġit, eċċetra), sabiex wieħed iħalli ċans biżżejjed li tinstab, tiddaħħal u wieħed jittama tindara espressjoni ekwivalenti b'Malti ta' veru.


14 ta' Awwissu 2008


Nota: Din il-kitba hija riflessjoni biss tal-fehmiet personali tal-awtur.