Editorial

As a rule, the Maltese are serious people. They take offence easily and are generally not prepared to be the subject of derision, whether of a light-hearted nature or not, unless they are clowns by profession. With the festive season lingering on to this weekend, it may not be altogether out of place to take a light introspective look at ourselves, all in good spirit, to keep up with what remains of the festive season.

For a start, when will Lawrence Gonzi do away with his mantra that nothing comes by chance? As people were perorating over the government's plan to pull down City Gate and to build a new house for Parliament right on the spot where some of the world's best tenors and sopranos audience-tested their repertoires in the time when Malta had an opera house, taxi drivers were washing their cars with gusto just at the entrance to Valletta, as if to satirise its plans.

Make no mistake about it, Tony Zarb will not miss an opportunity to take his followers to the streets again if Austin Gatt dares cross his sword with him on anything that blows, or threaten to blow, his top. Mepa will still be haunting environmentalists; hunting will not go away and taxes will continue to be raised as they have always been since well before the first Christmas. Have you noticed how fast villages are following in the footsteps of Notte Bianca, organising all manner of festivals to pull in the crowds and cash in on the people's seemingly endless hunger for unhealthy food? The fury over the Għadira road project has yet to explode and with so many millions of euros the government plans to spend to stimulate the economy, rest assured that there will not be one dull moment.

In the Maltese firmament, no door is ever left closed to controversy; every step has to - indeed, must be - turned into a national issue, a matter of life and death.

Every exhibition, or "project", has to be opened by a minister whose name is immortalised in a commemorative marble plaque. We stand on ceremony, simply love dishing out ultimatums, and tantrums, friction, and arrogance are part of everyday life.

And, yet, we are kind, generous at heart, and, above all, industrious, perhaps over-industrious. We no longer go for big families. The solid family cohesion we were so much proud of has cracked, in some cases, badly, as new norms, such as cohabitation, are no longer taboo. The young return from their night entertainment when their parents get up from their beds to begin a new day.

It is a different world, increasingly dominated by electronic gadgets, computers, mobile phones, iPods and so many new innovations. And, yet, even though much of the choreography has changed, for most of the time we choose to live in a world of Don Camillo, with a strong measure of exuberance exhibited in every action and reaction. At other times, we can be dull and frustrating. We are insufferably noisy, and nosy; for ever politically mad; increasingly pagan in outdoor village festa celebrations; skilful at bypassing rules and regulations and at beating the system. And, yet again, we love the island madly and, wherever we go, we would always want to come back to our roots, to all that distinguish this tiny population from others, with our idiosyncratic characteristics, eccentricities and all. This is our make-up. It's what makes us Maltese.