Coming from a Maltese decent, most of my family lives in Malta; my brother and I are both born in Australia, deeming us the first generation Australians in my family. My mother’s sister and brother also live here in Australia – both have two kids. Other than that the rest of my family live in Malta and I have never met them until June in 2001. That was the day my father, mother, brother and I went to Malta for four months.
I was nervous, scared and excited to meet my family; the family eight year old me never knew existed.
The flight to Malta was exhausting, Dad – afraid of flying was agitated for the whole twenty-two hours it took to arrive, and both my mother and brother had symptoms of motion sickness, however thankfully for me I was fine.
Once we got off the plane and landed on the sacred floors of my family country my stomach began to growl from the nervousness of the thoughts in my mind, meeting strangers who are apparently related to me was definitely a scary thought for eight year old me. I look up at my father, his face – as white as a canvas; I wasn’t sure if he was nervous or if he was still frightened from the flight.
‘Dad, are you okay?’ I said, I’ve always asked family members if they were okay when they lose colour in their face.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ He replied, being the man that he is, Dad’s always “fine”, however I’ve painted the canvas and decided that he was really nervous to see his mother and siblings again after over twenty years.
Once we got of the elevator my father and mother spotted my grandmother, aunties and uncles – Dads face lit up with excitement, I think he had forgotten about how nervous he was earlier.
‘Kemm ili ma narak, Ben, Kif inti?’ (‘I haven’t seen you in a long time, Ben, how are you?’). My grandmother said to my father as she hugged him and started to tear up.
‘Vera ta Ma, tajjeb jien,’ (‘That’s true Mum, I’m well,’). My father had replied to his mother, tearing up as well.
Eight year old me didn’t really care for my father being reunited with his family – I just wanted to explore and go to the beach, however now that I think of it; it was a beautiful sight – my father is really detached from his emotions, and he hardly ever cries. So to see him being so emotional with his mother was lovely.
I was also rather excited to see them all for the first time; it was an amazing surreal day, meeting so many new people who are related to me.
Adjusting to the Maltese culture was a struggle for me, being Australian bred I didn’t know much about how life in Malta was. Christianity is a big deal over there, my memory is a little distorted however, church was everyday at 7am:
‘Make sure you go church every day, Jesus loves us all, and forgives,’ My grandmother would always say to me.
I didn’t mind going church every day; I actually found it therapeutic in a way.
Food was also a big part of the Maltese culture, ‘Jieklu,’ My grandmother said whenever we were at the dinner table; no matter how full I was, I had to eat everything, and there was deserts too.
The trip to Malta was a lovely event for my family and I as we got to see the relatives we barely see and only hear on the phone. I would love to go back to visit, and I’m sure despite my father’s apathy, he would also be ecstatic to see his mother again.
© 2013 Justin Leonard Sacco.
