One day last week, I happened to see a young teenager – maybe 14 or 15 years old. He was nervously pacing round a bus-stop, stopping to arrange his hair in the surrounding cars’ windscreens. He was checking his mobile phone every other minute and looking out for every passing vehicle. His every gesture was screaming out ‘NERVOUS!’
Then a bus-stop stopped and a young girl, around his same age, came down. He nearly ran over to her, grabbed her hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She hugged him and patted his head. They proceeded to walk off together, giggling and talking excitedly the whole way.
– There are these two men who A and myself see all the time around noon-time. One man is in his late 70s and the other is in his 50s. We don’t know their connection, although we’re thinking they are either father and son or uncle and nephew. The youngest of the two is a Gozitan emigrant, something we’ve found out through his strong accent. Around noon, every single day, these two men walk in a bar or a cafeteria. The youngest man finds a table for them both and carefully seats the elder gentleman. He then reads him out the menu and asks the waiter for any special dishes of the day. After the orders are taken, the son or nephew brings over a newspaper and reads out the headlines to the elder gentleman. One amusing episode was when we were seated right next to this couple, and the paper featured a photo of President Obama playing basketball with children in an American school. The 50-something year old told his companion, “Look, it’s President Obama playing basketball!” The elderly man asked him who he was, and the other proceeded to explain to him how he was the President of the United States of American, how he was the first black President and how he was in his second term of office.
This morning we met them again. At precisely twelve o’clock they sat down in a local bar, asked for the menu and ordered a pizza – ‘nofsha Meat Fest u nofsha Margerita’. We’re still thinking who took which half.
– Every season, every day and at every hour a middle-aged man is seen pushing his mother who is in a wheelchair, around Victoria. He stops every so often and buys her a bottle of cool water and continues to push her around. He points out people to her and usually she is seen slumped forward, probably half asleep. In winter he covers her with a woolen blanket and in summer she’s wearing a hat. It must be tiring for him because he is not exactly young himself, and he walks around for hours, but he never fails at taking her out.
These small gestures are nothing special really. But their simplicity put a smile on my face 🙂