The Klandestini

I just hope that what I am about to say isn't read by Mr. Normal Lowell, or I will be tried for killing the man by a heart attack. Thing is, I somehow, in a very sordid kind of way like Mr. Lowell. I like his sense of style, and the fact that he can put on a straight face and have me in splits of laughter. Some say he might be ill, I don't think so. If I had so much as a doubt about it I wouldn't laugh, because I don't laugh at sick people. But this one is shrewd, intelligent... and a racist. And in some ways I understand because I too do not like my country becoming riddled with klandestini. It's bad enough for us, we don't need more. But then what do you do? Turn them away? Open fire on them? Surely not. So that's where Mr. Lowell and I differ. He wants to turn them away he says, I wouldn't have the heart to turn away a tiny fish. And yes he's right, in a matter of years Maltese people could start becoming black seeing that the best Maltese men are gay, and women *do* have needs somehow. So there we go. And I'm not very pure, I like my white skin to stay white, my offsprings (imaginary) to be white, and the offsprings of my offsprings to be also white. Why, perhaps it's because I'm attracted to white. Am I a racist? Could be, just a little bit, but I don't think that people should be judged by the colour of their skin, neither do I think they should have lesser rights, so that just about lets me off the racist hook. There is one thing making me miserable though. Every time I drive through Marsa, which is quite often seeing I live in the Cottonera area, I can see the Marsa open centre. And it's no pretty sight. Why do people say they are given money, a cell phone and everything they wish for? Because if that were true, why does this open centre look an eyesore to me? You can see people sitting around in the blazing sun because they have nothing to do, men by the roadside praying someone will pick them up and maybe give them a job for a day, and women trying to hand wash clothes in a spit of water. My guess is they have no airconditioning, no washing machines, and no money. Yet to hear people talk you'd think they were living like kings and queens. I drive past at 10 am, they're there waiting in the sun, I drive past at 4 pm, and they're still waiting praying that someone will pick them up. And what has become fashionable, at least it seems so, is to drive past, pick a couple of them up when you want moving some very extremely heavy furniture, then give them a couple of Euro. That's all. What makes me tick though, is driving by at night when it's dark. They are waiting then too, but for an entirely different reason. And of course I do not heed the instructions of do not drive by in the middle of the night, because I'm a curious bugger. So there's a car, which seems to be shaking as if there were an earthquake in progress, and a line of men waiting, presumably their turn to get into the shaking car. Is this free entertainment, and if it isn't, where do they get the money from? And who on earth is offering the entertainment be it free or not? Is she or he in their right mind? Or do we have Maltese people among us who are even poorer then the klandestini who has to 'work' like this to put food on the table for their kids? It makes me tick, and shudder, and no I'm not offering entertainment in my car, shaking or not. I can be kind, but I have my limits.