JustJess
New to the story? Start with the Prologue discover how I decided to leave behind my super-comfy life in Switzerland and became an English teacher in Malta.
What happened in Maltese Diaries: Week 1, part 2?
After deciding to take the apartment offer, Grace and I had to wait to hear back from the landlady. In the meantime, I kept discovering small drawbacks of living in Malta, like cockroaches and the need for bottled water. But the capital city, Valletta? Breathtaking... The story of my first days in Malta continues below.
I am going to love it here… as long as I can find a place to stay (part 3)
21 – 24th of March 2024
Trying to get some sleep in Paceville
‘The next time you read reviews on some accommodation online, and they will say that the place is bad, just believe it. Don’t be stupid and just believe those people who were there before you!’ That’s what I’m telling myself first thing the next morning, after spending a long, long night, tossing around, trying to sleep.
Despite going to bed with ear plugs, music from the outside was so loud that I only slept for a short amount of time the previous night. Paceville Square behind my windows only got calmer around four in the morning. Not to mention that I was really cold. They only seem to use thin sheets to cover themselves at night in these Mediterranean countries, instead of duvets. That means that it can get really cold at night. Especially in winter months. Or maybe these apartments are just that bad, not offering something warmer to their customers.
I’m really tired after last night and I’m trying to eat some breakfast, when another, this time living, cockroach marches into my field of vision.
‘Great.’ I tell myself and I immediately go to search for another glass to trap that little f***er. Unfortunately, he’s too fast and runs somewhere to the second bedroom. I have no other option than to leave him there and hope that he will not come to the bedroom that I actually use.
Suddenly I can’t wait for Monday. I just want to be out of there.
‘It may explode’…
‘ARMED FORCES OF MALTA
Military Firing range – Keep out when red flags are flying or red lamps are lit.
Danger – Do not Touch any Military Debris. It may explode and as result may either harm you or kill you.’ (sic)
I’m staring at the disturbingly looking sign in front of me, trying to understand where exactly I have just run into. I just went for a run and I followed what seemed to be a pedestrian trail beyond St. Julian’s. Suddenly, I ran to this sign, unsure if I could enter or not.
Despite seeing people walking in that area, I decided not to enter. I need to read more about it, before I head into a Military zone. So I’m headed in a different direction and soon back to St. Julian’s. I am seriously out of shape.
Internet, SIM cards and figure skating
‘Oh come on, you’ve got to be kidding me!’ I exclaim a few hours after my run, while sitting on my bed and trying to catch some internet connection. My internet data package from the Czech Republic has just reached its limit and I got cut off just before the strongest group of figure skaters got on the ice.
I’ve been watching the Men’s short program of the World Figure skating championship on and off all afternoon. I knew I needed to save some data for the final group, so I only chose my most favourite skaters and turned the emission on and off a few times. But the group where most of my favourite skaters were competing was about to come and I was suddenly out of data.
The reasons for this to happen are following:
- The wifi in the apartments doesn’t really work.
- The Maltese SIM card that I bought almost 3 hours ago hasn’t started working yet.
I’ve tried to connect to the apartment’s wifi since day one, but I haven’t really been successful. I thought that maybe I got the password wrong, but earlier that day, the nice receptionist explained that the wifi doesn’t work most of the time and he tried to connect me to their private network at the reception. That was super sweet of him. Unfortunately, this connection doesn’t reach the fourth floor. So, around 5:30 PM I finally decided to just buy a Maltese SIM card, which was something I would have to do anyway.
I went to a phone network provider, bought a subscription and the very unlikeable guy told me that the SIM should start working within an hour. Which gave me about two hours, before my figure skating sweethearts would appear on the ice.
But the damn SIM card hasn’t started working even after 3 hours, which is why I am currently freaking out and running down to the reception to connect to their wifi. Like that, I can buy a data extension on my Czech SIM card and watch the rest of the short programs.
‘I really hate these apartments!’
I failed before I even started…
My mind is blank.
Theoretically, there should have been something there when they said: ‘Reported speech’ but I can’t find anything. I’m just silently watching my future colleagues spewing out information after information on how to teach this grammar point and I have literally nothing to say.
We are in a teacher training session. My company asked me to join in, so I have a chance to get to know everyone and gain as much insight as possible before I start teaching myself. So here I am, not officially working yet, but taking in the ambience in our company. We are currently working in groups, discussing how to best teach certain topics, but I don’t have anything to add to this conversation. So I just sit there, silent, feeling seriously out of depth.
I knew this moment would come. A moment when everyone, including me, realises that I don’t have anything to do there. I kinda hoped though, that it would happen after I started teaching, not before.
Honestly, these people seem nice, but for an introvert like me it’s hard to get into the conversation, especially, when I have nothing to say apart from: ‘Sorry, guys, I can’t help you, because I’m obviously a fraud.’
I don’t really say that, but I feel like I should. While everyone is working on the current assignment, my mind wanders off towards my new apartment lease contract which I can’t break off for six months, without paying a huge fine. Therefore, if the company really lays me off, I will have to stay in Malta until September, working in Burger King or another fast food restaurant.
If you are wondering, how is it possible for me to not know a grammar point, when I’ve been preparing to become a teacher for the past few years, the explanation goes something like this:
I’ve been learning English over the course of many years since primary school. The schooling system in Czechia in the early 2000s was only starting to get more oriented on English language education and my English during primary and secondary school sucked to the point of my parents arranging a tutor for me. My child’s brain simply couldn’t comprehend that the English language doesn’t change endings of nouns, adjectives or verbs the way my mother tongue does. I was always trying to translate everything literally, which didn’t work at all. My poor tutor had quite a hard time with me and my ADHD brain. But her hard work paid off and it got much easier for me during high school. But for that I have to thank also American TV series, like Stargate, which were not available in Czech language immediately after premiere and forced me to watch with subtitles.
A few years later, I graduated high school with a B1 level of English and I felt pretty fluent. Obviously, I was far from that, but my formal education in English language ended there for many years. Apart from a few lessons of academic English I had at university and lessons where I tutored younger children the basics of English, my advancement in the language was limited to movies for many years to come.
That is, until in 2020 I miraculously decided that English is one of the few things I could do and that I might become a teacher in a different country. Then I picked up the books again, and started slowly studying. I needed to refresh a lot of grammar and learn countless new words when I started preparing for the C1 exam which was the basic requirement for most of the teaching certifications. Doing this, I basically skipped one language level and even when I passed the exam in September 2022, I was painfully aware that I had huge gaps in my knowledge, especially of grammar. That didn’t stop me from applying to teaching jobs as soon as I finished my CELTA in 2023. I had hoped that I would have enough time to study up on these grammar points as I went.
That was before this training. Now I can see again that no matter how much I have studied, I’m still far from ready.
The rest of the day passes in relative peace as we move on from this assignment. I talk to a few of my future colleagues and they seem very nice. When it’s done for the day, I am more than happy to get out of there. I need to think and calm down.
The SIM card
On my way from the training I stop at the phone network provider’s shop and ask them why my SIM card doesn’t work. According to the system, my subscription is working so it just turns out that the card is faulty.
‘It’s rare, but it happens.’ Says the guy, who seems to be much more present than the guy the previous evening.
I don’t get mad. I still remember what it is like to work for a phone provider. I just can’t believe my bad luck.
Beyond Pembroke, into the wild
As soon as I eat something, I head out, following my own trail from the previous day and I find myself on the hiking trail beyond St. Julian’s and Pembroke. Everything here is in bloom – yellow flowers, purple flowers and the sun is strong. It feels like it’s May, not the end of March. But I guess I will have to get used to this warmer climate.
Once again I come to that strange warning sign, and once again, I head around the other way. But I start googling what this place is really about:
The area was part of British army barracks in the 19th and 20th century and apparently consists of quite a few ex-military buildings. According to pictures, a lot of them seem to be in a really poor state. However, the place where I’m currently trying to avoid getting shot in the head, is called Pembroke ranges. It used to be a rifle shooting range that is still sometimes used as a pistol shooting range. But I guess that as long as red flags or lights are not on, people are safe to walk in the area.
As for me, I already headed a respectable distance around it and came across another impressive building, that from afar looks like an old hospital or an asylum. Truly, as I read online, it served that purpose in the past and was known as ‘45th General St Patrick’s Hospital’. These days it serves as a secondary school and college. The building lost nothing of its majestic military appearance – the architecture makes me feel insignificant.
I head back towards the sea and catch a glimpse of an old tower that I noticed yesterday on my run and wanted to explore. On my way I come across a cat colony. I’m a bit surprised, because these stray/wild cats have small cat houses with blankets built all around and someone is obviously feeding them. They are just lying around, enjoying the sun and are royally ignoring me.
‘That’s one way to live a life,’ I snort and continue walking.
After a few minutes I finally arrived at Madliena tower. The tower belongs to a system of thirteen watchtowers built in the mid-17th century around the coast of Malta and served as a warning mechanism in case of a threat. The view from the cliffs around the tower is beautiful. Towards the North-west I can see another of the towers and it immediately makes me think of the tower warning system in The Lord of the Rings. It feels kinda epic.
Apart from the next tower in line, I can also see the outlines of islands Gozo and Comino on the horizon and in the immediate proximity there is a bay with another city. What catches my attention, however, are the ruins of what looks like a never finished apartment complex, just a few hundred metres away from Madliena tower.
Google maps has it registered as White rocks – Ghost town. It had been built as an accommodation complex for the British army in the 60s and when the army left in the 90s, the complex got handed over to the government who used it as a holiday resort. These days however it’s completely abandoned and run down. I’m walking through the huge complex of empty building shells with no windows and huge mural paintings and I feel suddenly overwhelmed. Cacti and bushes are growing all over and taking back what people left behind. Admittedly, the complex is terrifying, even more so as the sun is slowly getting lower on the horizon and I am suddenly more aware of the ghostly atmosphere of the place. I don’t take a single picture there. I just decide to head towards the nearest bus stop and come to the place again. Preferably, earlier in the day.
As I’m standing on the bus stop, together with a dozen other people, I experience another shocking encounter with Maltese culture. Sometimes, the buses don’t stop even if you wave at them, which you must, because all of the stops are requested. If the buses are full they will simply pass by and you are left to hope that the next bus will not be so packed.
The Waste collection scheme
During the week Grace and I got a message from our future landlord that we can move a day earlier and therefore on Sunday morning I’m packing my stuff and am excited to get out from the crazy apartments at Paceville square.
I’m staring at my waste and suddenly it comes to me that I don’t know what to do with plastic bottles. From both Czechia and Switzerland I am used to sorting the waste, so I am reluctant to leave it in the bin.
I google how it works with sorted waste in Malta and I find that Malta apparently has a system in place that not only supports waste sorting, but also kind of forces it with the threat of fines. I read that I can put my plastic bottles into special machines and get back 10 cents for each of them in the form of a voucher that I can use as a discount in the stores. I find that quite cool and I immediately begin searching for the nearest plastic-eating machine. It happens to be near me, in the garage of one of the malls.
There is a queue by the recycling machine and people are patiently waiting for others to dispose of their plastic waste. The guy in front of me has a huge bag of them and it comes to me that given the fact that water in Malta is mostly non-drinkable, plastic bottles must be a huge business. Anyway, I’m patiently waiting for my turn when the guy in front of me lets me go first, because I only have a few of them. I thank him and leave with my 50 cent voucher.
In our new home… finally
A few hours later I’m waiting in front of our new apartment with all my luggage. I left my temporary accommodation earlier than necessary and arrived thirty minutes before the appointment. However, that was an hour ago and the landlord, the landlady’s husband, is late. Grace also arrived sometime ago and we are just waiting, watching cars pass on the main road in front of the house.
When the landlord finally arrives he realises that he doesn’t have the correct key to the apartment and leaves us waiting for thirty more minutes. I can’t help but laugh. Men are the same chaotic creatures everywhere.
When, much later, we are finally inside of our new home and our lease agreement is signed, all I can think of is: ‘Well, now it’s done. However it ends up at my school, I will have to survive for six months in Malta.’
Do you want to know what happened next?
Leave a comment and I'll post more chapters of my story! :P
Interested in more photos from Malta? Check on my Maltese photogallery.
