Make a Left at the Palm Tree
Getting around in Malta requires a shift in thinking. At least, it required a shift in my personal way of looking at the world. For all the funny talk about how small the country is, it does have distinct towns and villages and countless streets, and no, the Maltese do not know every little street on the island. Add to this the fact that many small streets are not labelled. Actually, many main roads are not labelled either. I will be fair, most are, but just when you need to find your way…
The street where we live, for example, only got a name a couple of years ago. Granted, it is very small side street that only has a few buildings. But a street sign was never put up by the local council. And so every time I give the address, it has to be followed by an explanation: how it is a small street, how it is right off of a bigger one, the landmarks that are nearby. To complicate matters, the bigger street has no name sign either! I guess that one is SO big that everyone is expected to know it. And as a coincidence, the street heading down to the sea also has no name. Now, it is not always like this, but it just so happens that if you visit me and I want to tell you how to go down to the seaside, I would have to say: ” make a left onto the main road, keep going for a long block, then make your first left, which is downhill, and you should see the seafront; pay close attention for coming back, as it is less clear without the sea to guide you.”
So, navigating the streets of Malta is a mental challenge. While I am used to street names and turns, here it is very much landmarks and getting a feel for the place. To illustrate, I received an e-mail from a friend yesterday giving me directions to a house. I copy it here, with some details blanked out for annonimity:
“Go to the roundabout with the tall palm trees, take the road that goes to San Gwann. Her street is the second from the left (from the roundabout) and the second house on the right is hers. The name of the house is XX and the street is XX.”
And there you have it! Without my prompting, a perfect example. Ane before you ask, the house does have a name. Most houses in Malta have names. While in the capital city of Valletta they do have numbers, outside of it people started naming their homes instead. While many were later numbered, the name remains anyway and must be used as part of the address. The funny thing is that people come up with all sorts of tacky ideas, and it is amusing to walk by and just read house names.
Some people use women’s names: Jessica, Marija, Gennifer. I assume they are named after the house’s inhabitants, children, mothers or wives. Others get religious: Our Lady, Santa Marija. The other day I saw one named Unser Traum, which is German for “our dream.” Returned emigrants will come up with Canada House or Tasman Court. Just yesterday we drove past a row of flats called Dallas Apartments, New Jersey Apartments, California Apartments. It really adds a layer of personality to your house. Nobody gets to name the street they live on, but here you can name your house, and thereby make up part of your address!
I often wonder what I would name a house, if I stay here long enough to buy one. It is such a big responsibility. It cannot be too tacky, or so strange sounding that nobody will understand it. It has to be short. It should reflect an aspect about you, as it is the first impression people get of your home. It is not something to take lightly. It is almost like naming a child.
