The year was 1947. At the age of seventeen my identical twin and I departed Malta in search of greener pastures. To be sure it was not so much a matter of free nor intelligent choice that led us aboard "Al Rawad" an Egyptian tramp steamer. The ancient, coal driven, smoke belching vessel whose lifespan had long come and gone, bravely headed towards Marseilles and open waters instead of a scrap yard, en-route to London our final destination. No indeed, my autocratic father had issued an edict which was carried out without benefit of discussion, let alone consent, in true fashion of his post-Victorian generation. The old man was of a fixated mind set, where democratic voting and open debate on crucial family issues were clearly not tolerated. Mother, a gentle sweet-natured person whose character tended to soften the sternness of father's outlook as far as we children were concerned, merely rubber stamped his power of veto.
Those who have never experienced the gut wrenching agony of sudden separation from home and family and all that which is familiar, are hard pressed to imagine the pain and anguish which accompanies leaving behind one's land of birth. The mind is swamped with bittersweet memories of childhood, adolescence, secrets and longings, familiar events and faces, which had been the very fabric of one's existence. William Shakespeare was indeed correct in noting that parting is such sweet sorrow. So it was, that excitement at the prospect of adventure and discovery turned into deep sadness and acrimony, as Malta's familiar shores sunk below an enveloping horizon, while the small island we cherished so dearly was swallowed whole by the immensity of a devouring sea. Ahead lay a future of uncertain promise, in uncertain lands, populated by uncertain people, whose habits, mannerisms and emotions were alien to our Latin culture with its warm heartiness, cordial familiarities and idiosyncrasies. It might as well have been a one way journey to inhospitable Mars. Saved for the moment from depression by eternal aspirations of inexperienced youth, we sailed forth unafraid determined to wage battle mounted on a white horse, with any and all dragons that stood between us and ultimate success. Not for one moment did we question our innate ability to slay the fire breathing beast against great odds.
Fifty years have since flowed downstream under life's span, in ways which have smoothed and shaped the course of our existence. No longer subjects of a foreign monarch by reason of being born under colonial rule, nor burdened by other self-serving institutions with arbitrary claim over our allegiance, we are today American nationals by choice, proud citizens of the world's most progressive democracy and caring nation. But, for all that has changed towards the best, our love and yearning for Malta has never diminished. Ours is not a question of divided loyalty but the sharing of one's heart between two cherished homes. Absence has indeed made love of our mother country and its wonderfully warm hearted people ever stronger. This ancestral bond renews itself on repeat visits to Malta. It matters not how many intervening years elapse between reunions. Whenever the prodigal twins return home to old and familiar surroundings, an odd sensation of rejuvenation, of never having departed native shores fills the inner self.
A few argue that expatriate Maltese are lesser citizens by virtue of having left their homeland, when they should have stayed on to assist an emerging independent nation improve its living conditions and prosperity. They further are of the opinion that migrants should be deprived of political participation, not accorded equal treatment under the law, by withholding their right to vote should they return home. Such discontent and hysteria make it sound like if a crime of high treason and betrayal has been committed which requires retribution and redress. To the embarrassment of many this flawed viewpoint is more politically expedient than logical, with each party angling for voter disqualification of those who might cast their lot in the opposite camp. The ploy is not only legitimately suspect, but it runs counter to legendary Maltese kindness and ingrained sense of fairness. People go abroad for a legion of valid reasons, some on their own accord, while others like my sibling and I under penalty of patriarchal decree. No matter the incentive, departing Malta is not an act of hostility nor one of duplicity. Often necessity dictates one's course of action. Young students go abroad for extended years of study in post-graduate specialties not readily available at Maltese institutes of higher learning, only to return home holding skills of value for the benefit of society at large. Others seek gainful employment abroad, in technical/professional positions commanding high salaries, simply not attainable within the limited local economy. Many such contract employees, working and living in isolation from family and friends, deposit sizable portions of foreign earnings at bank accounts in Malta, adding to its GNP in terms of income accrued through services rendered outside of its territorial limits. Still others reside abroad because of family roots and obligations. There are now over sixty members within our extended family living in the United States. Surely it is unreasonable to think we do Malta a disservice by electing to live close to our cherished children and grandchildren, in old age and retirement.
In truth neither distance nor time have much to do with judging one's patriotic love of country. We remain as much Maltese today as we were the day we waved our loved ones final farewell at the Grand Harbor. It is not right that others should think less of us as distant, removed members of Maltese society. Our American nationality in no way diminishes our desire to remain Maltese. We dearly uphold our wondrous country of choice, but not at the expense of fondness and devotion for Malta, our land of birth. The same can be said for other Maltese expatriates who call Canada, Australia and other lands far and wide, home. The common denominators within the Maltese Diaspora is a love of country etched in granite, and a deep felt pain of separation for those left behind. Nobody, not even people of our own kind, who may not understand the anguish of divided loyalties, has a right to or can rob us of our heritage. De-franchised or not, we shall always remain staunch sons and daughters of our beloved island in the sun. The issue is not up for barter, questionable laws notwithstanding. Accept us in good faith for who we are, and what we stand for, as devoted members of a global Maltese family
E-mail to Joseph Vella: vellajoseph@msn.net
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