That woman should get a job
I’m aware that I’m probably in a very tiny minority, but when I watched Stefania Carabott on Bondiplus last Monday, I felt overcome not with compassion but with immense irritation.
Somebody should tell that woman to give herself a good shake and to stop parading herself in public as a professional widow.
She is not suffering from clinical depression and so has no excuse for not standing on her own two feet.
Yet she has spent the last 10 months creating a tragic profile for herself as the ‘Simshar widow’, while everyone forgets that she isn’t the only Simshar widow and that one woman suffered a worse fate than losing her husband, because she lost her young child.
Mrs Carabott clearly cannot identify with this particular fate because she has neither children of her own nor the imagination necessary for empathy.
Not once in that 90-minute show did she demonstrate any feeling for the child who died after suffering for days the torture of being exposed to the elements without food, water or rest, and in constant terror.
On the contrary, she made a point of saying that ‘her Noel’ gave the boy his clothes to protect him from the sun, and her face lit up as she described him as a hero for doing it. There wasn’t the slightest inkling of compassion for the boy himself.
All I can say is that ‘her Noel’ would have had to take his clothes off whether there was a boy to protect from the sun or not. Clothes are worse than useless in the water. They are a dead weight and restrict your ability to keep afloat. The alternative to draping them over the boy would have been letting them float off.
She didn’t impress me either when she claimed that she didn’t alert the authorities when she wanted to because the wife of the other fisherman warned her not to do so, that the boat would be confiscated if they were found to be up to something. In her next breath, she undermined herself by revealing that money was a factor in her decision not to raise the alarm, too.
“I was afraid that if I raised the alarm and they had to pay something, then I would have to pay something too, and I can’t afford it.”
Maybe I’m strange, or maybe it’s because my family has been through something similar and so I have direct experience of it, but I can say with certainty that if my son or husband were out at sea long past the day they were due back and with all attempts at making contact failing repeatedly, then I would have the search and rescue services out there whatever it took and whatever the consequences, within hours not days, and given half a chance also within minutes.
These two women don’t seem to have made a proper assessment of the risks inherent in either course of action – to raise the alarm or not to raise the alarm – and they do not seem to have compared the consequences of taking one course of action against the other. I just don’t get it.
But that’s by the by. What really annoys me about this woman – and it started when she made all that fuss in the newspapers about losing the roof over her head – is that she is only 29 years old, has no children, and yet she fully expects to live as a widow for the rest of her life, on a widow’s pension handed out by the state and with the Joint Office pulling out all the stops to make sure that she can hang on to the house in which she lives even if she might not have the right to do so.
Nobody has the guts to utter the magic sentence: “Pull your socks up, woman, and get a job.” Once she has a job, the problem of where to live solves itself, because with money you can pay rent. The islands are teeming with single, childless women of 29. Are they sitting on sofas bemoaning their fate and demanding that others hand them the living they think they are owed? No, they are out there, working. They are saving money to get on the property ladder. They are paying rent.
At the age of 29 and with no children to look after, Mrs Carabott should head right back into the workforce, where she belongs. But I suspect that she is one of those women who thought that getting married meant she would never have to work again.
Well, tough – life doesn’t necessarily work out the way we planned it. I just find it absolutely horrific that people are jumping through hoops trying to find ways of ensuring that a perfectly healthy, childless woman of 29 will never have to pay her own way or put a roof over her own head.
If I were her, I wouldn’t go round claiming to have spent tens of thousands on restoring a piece of property that isn’t hers, either. She doesn’t work and her husband was a part-time fisherman. That aside, people with tens of thousands to splash out don’t spend them on doing up a house owned by someone else. They spend them on buying something of their own.
I might have had more sympathy had she not come across as somebody entirely wrapped up in herself and in her own problems, and worse, with that awful sense of entitlement. Is she the first woman to lose her husband in an accident? No.
She should at least thank her lucky stars she doesn’t have small children for whom she now has to provide single-handedly. Is she the first woman of 29 who has to get a job to pay the bills? No. Is she the first woman of 29 who has to rent a flat or save up for a deposit on a small home? No. The sooner somebody tells her this, the better.
I steamed off to make a cup of tea when I heard her moan: “I never thought I would be living off a widow’s pension at 29.” Damn right, woman: you shouldn’t be living off a widow’s pension at 29. Go and get a job. You’re 29, not 59 – so unless you plan to live your life as a professional Simshar widow for the next 60 years, just get a grip and get on with it. And remember, other people died on that boat, too. One of them was just 10 years old.
There’s something so incredibly tasteless and attention-seeking about people who parade their grief on television. It never fails to ring my alarm bells. And I have no time at all for people who wallow in self-pity.
Reading the cornflakes packet
The National Statistics Office has told us that reading is the favourite hobby of 38 per cent of Maltese. You could have fooled me. I never see anyone reading. The clue as to whether a particular society is given to reading or not is the number of people seen reading in public places.
In Malta, the only people seen reading in public are tourists. Maltese people do not read in cafes, on buses, on park benches, at the hairdresser’s, on the beach or even in waiting-rooms. Several times, I sat in a hospital waiting-room for up to three hours and I was the only person reading. Everyone else was staring and fidgeting.
So no, whatever the Nationalist Statistics Office may say – or rather, whatever people may have told the data-gatherers – I don’t think that reading can possibly be the preferred hobby of 38 per cent of Maltese people.
If it were, there would be some evidence other than what they tell a researcher. Maltese homes are notoriously devoid of books and bookshelves. The islands are not exactly teeming with bookshops and libraries. The vast majority of people have great difficulty reading English and have little or nothing to read in Maltese. Sales of books, magazines and newspapers are falling. Membership of the public library is declining. And above all, you never see people reading.
Perhaps it all hinges on the definition of reading, and the clue is in the National Statistics Office’s conclusion that the fall in sales of newspapers, periodicals and books “could indicate a shift in reading habits from printed-book material to online journals and magazines.”
The NSO hasn’t a clue what it is talking about. Gathering information online is just that: gathering information online. Technically, it involves reading – because you have to read the words on the screen to acquire the information you need. But reading the news or a couple of blogs on your computer screen no more constitutes ‘reading’ – in the way it is normally understood – than does reading the ingredients off a cornflakes packet.
Our understanding of what constitutes reading as a pastime is not what it should be. Reading – when described as a pastime – does not mean the occasional newspaper or even a daily newspaper. It does not mean magazines or The Economist. It does not mean online journals, blogs or news sites.
It involves that dreaded word beginning with ‘b’ – real, actual books. Nor does it mean one book every three months, still less a book a year, which appears to be the norm among those who claim to enjoy reading. It means never being without a book, reading whenever you have a dead hour or are waiting around, making time to read, and not being able to go to sleep without reading at least a few pages.
It means having shelves full of books, buying books as you do clothes, browsing the shelves of every bookshop you come across, and knowing which writers you prefer while occasionally trying out new ones.
That’s somebody who reads. Everyone else is somebody who knows how to read and occasionally does so, which is entirely different.
This article is published in The Malta Independent today.
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I think that the Simshar widow episode was orchestrated by the media.
I agree wholeheartedly with this article. The property is not hers, so she hasn’t a leg to stand on. Her husband should have made sure that he had some form of title. Property rights are just that: rights.
As for reading and books, I’m surprised that so many Maltese list their hobby as reading. I suspect it’s because they thought they might impress their interviewer. If so many Maltese read, then maybe the quality of their posts would reflect it. It doesn’t.
It’s not that my posts are perfect. I mean, I write most of them on the fly, using a Blackberry. This site is not exactly PDA friendly, either.
[Daphne – It’s not meant to be, Mario. Websites are always designed for computer use, and not for use on a PDA, for the simple reason that most people do not use a PDA to browse the internet.]
I am guilty of many mistakes, spelling, punctuation or otherwise. I was an abysmal English student, but I read. I ruined my eyes reading books from a very early age. And I am lost without a book. Utterly and completely. I crave them as much as a piss-head would crave a curry after a night drinking.
For once, I am in complete and utter agreement with Daphne, which is rare.
[Daphne – Imma xorta mhux se nivvota ghal Vince.]
Hadd mhu qed jikkmandak x’tagmel.
“It means never being without a book, reading whenever you have a dead hour or are waiting around, making time to read, and not being able to go to sleep without reading at least a few pages.”
I agree completely with your definition of “reading”.
Did you actually watch 90 minutes ?…I watched less than 5 and said what the hell, nothing better for Mr Bondi to feature this week?
[Daphne – I love anything to do with chavs. I watched it for the same reason I watch EastEnders, and now also this brilliant series called Goldplated on BBC Prime, Monday evenings.]
You will love “Footballers wives” then ….
@Daphne
Would that be what’s known as a ‘morbid fascination’?
I was so surprised Lou Bondi lowered his standards and put us through this type of media circus.
What a waste. And then a woman with toddlers would be trying to find ways how to juggle her job with bringing up her children.
How can you be so cold on such an issue? You need to understand that there are so many different situations in life that not everyone is able to tackle them as you think! Losing a loving husband, without a single clue of what might have happened, and then being thrown out of your home by his relatives, is not easy to overcome.
[Daphne – Nobody is saying it’s easy to overcome. And I’m in a far better position than you are to understand Mrs Carabott’s unhappiness because my family had the exact same experience and I would imagine that yours did not. Mrs Carabott at least had a body to bury. This is not a unique occurrence and there’s a great deal to be said for dignity and self-reliance, and very little to be said in favour of renting one’s garments in public and whining, while claiming that others owe you a living.]
I imagine you are referring to the Esmeralda tragedy. I was never happy with the outcomes of that story. Would you care to refresh our memories? Maritime mysteries interest me.
[Daphne – No, I wouldn’t care to do so. If you weren’t happy, just imagine how those involved felt about it. There was another case in the newspapers a few weeks ago – Richard Ellul Sullivan, I believe, from the 1970s. I think it resurfaced because of issues to do with his death certificate. His body was never found.]
Yes, Richard Ellul Sullivan, Queen of Peace, 1977 ( http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20090211/local/court-declares-crew-member-dead ), though why they would wait 30 years to issue a death certificate defies my imagination, unless there was any suspicion of foul play.
I thought it was just in the UK that people are taking up mourning as either a pastime or job. This site being my only stop for Maltese affairs, I wasn’t aware of this leech until today. Does she think that because her husband was killed in a more famous disaster, that should grant her more rights than all other widows?
I don’t know if you’ve been following Britain’s new Princess Dia… oops, seen too many headlines on red backgrounds, I mean Jade Goody. I’d imagine you have. Her family is another select few who are capitalizing on a death by filling up morning-show sofas as rent-a-gobs or contacting the publisher for a book deal as they, like vultures, feast of the carrion of the story.
What I don’t get is, if her husband Noel Carabot was employed by Simon Bugeja for this trip, and his death was caused by negligence on Simon’s part, could she not sue Simon for damages and use the compensation awarded to buy off her farmhouse? Is there no state automatic compensation to spouses for work-related death?
In addition, I disagree that she’s not showing signs of clinical depression. She showed obvious signs of depression on TV and also seemed to still be in a state of shock. Keep in mind that she has been with Noel since she was 13 so losing him basically meant that she lost an integral part of her own identity and has to rebuild her ego from scratch. I am sure you are part of a very small minority to not have been moved by her story.
[Daphne – People with clinical depression do not dress up, slather themselves in make-up, dye their hair blonde and go on a television show where they speak clearly in normal tones and hold their own while sitting isolated on a chair with a camera and lights on them. If you think that woman has clinical depression then you have never known a person afflicted with it. She is down, she is grieving, she is blue, but she is not clinically depressed. And the point is that she is 29 and has to rebuild her life whether she wants to or not, so by egging her on people are not doing her any favours. Perversely, the greatest favour is being done to her by her ex-father-in-law, in seeking to throw her out. She herself remarked that she wants to leave that house in any case because she can’t bear to live there. She made it quite clear that she is only refusing to move out of pique – and, I suspect, also because she might want some kind of financial consideration for doing so.]
Daphne, you wrote: “Several times, I sat in a hospital waiting-room for up to three hours and I was the only person reading. Everyone else was staring and fidgeting”.
Don’t tell me you didn’t hear them grumble … for up to three hours.
@Mario Debono
Canvassers brown-nosing influential people will not gain Vince Farrugia any stasis. The latter has already done himself a great deal of damage by sucking up to Lawrence Gonzi. If you’re good, you’re good and that’s it, you don’t need to kiss anybody’s ass.
I’m not about to go knocking on doors for anyone, Vince Farrugia included. I’m not a canvasser. He’s a very good friend though.
As for the sucking up, I dont see how you can say that.
I think the poor girl should start reading, and she might want to make the most of EU-funded grants in education, while they’re still there.
“The islands are teeming with single, childless women of 29” …
… and also with single/widowed women with children, who work to support themselves and their families. I do suspect, however, that the woman must be suffering from depression and must be on some sort of medication, given her appearance now when compared to her appearance immediately after the incident. Maybe eventually, she’ll get a grip on things.
[Daphne – Why, because she’s a lot fatter now than she was then? I don’t think so. Even last July she looked a hell of a lot older than her late 20s. And if she never had a grip on things, as the evidence of her life so far indicates, then she isn’t going to get a grip on things now. She married somebody with a drug habit and no regular income, for heaven’s sake – not the most sensible thing to do.]
I for one never read in public, as the Maltese have the habit of interrupting me while I’m reading, asking absurd questions and trying to start a conversation, the topic being Joe tal-Labour and Gonzi.
[Daphne – Maybe they’re just trying to chat you up.]
I prefer reading whilst I’m in my garden away from the busy-bodies who roam our streets. Those who wish to read and do not have a garden can go the Lower Barakka during the summer months.
Something is not quite right about her story. First she said that neither of them knew that the house did not belong to Noel’s aunt and that in fact it belonged to the Joint Office. Later on she states that Noel used to tell her that he would never leave that place, “even if they had to drag him out”. Why would she say something like that if they were both under the impression that the house belonged to their family? I’m convinced she’s hiding the fact that she knew that the house did not belong to her long before the incident.
And of course she does not need to live off a widow’s pension at 29. How utterly ridiculous. Is working and earning a salary such an alien concept to some people?
I don’t know what to say about the Simshar widow; in two weeks she lost the most important things in her life – her house & her husband.
You yourself said that she’s not the most sensible person, yet now you believe shes fooling the nation into landing her some hard cash. That requires a bit of wit.
After reading the articles it seems that none of the people involved have any. Like the way they (the wives) saw the risk in their heads. People with wit would say they’d rather be safe than sorry. People without, simply cannot think. So they say ,’ le I don’t want a fine’ and that was that.
This whole Simshar adventure wouldn’t have happened if at least one person of both parties had an ounce of wit and common sense.
Whenever I know that I have to wait somewhere, I have a book with me, but I rarely see anybody reading anything if it’s not a newspaper. The funny thing is sometimes people stare at me because I’m reading, like it’s such a weird thing to do. Let’s face it, the education system is not always to blame.
Also, I do not mind being disturbed while I”m reading. I once got a man next to me who was passing comments at the book I was reading. Not the text, but the pictures of Escher’s work. “ishom tal magiks eh?”.
Someone with wit and commonsense would not have let her own young child go on that fishing trip, especially if the reason she did not want to report them as missing was because she knew / suspected that some law was being broken.
I really can’t see how someone could ever value anything more than they value their own flesh and blood. I pity the poor woman for having lost her child, yes, but I am more sorry for the poor child himself, especially because of what he must have endured.
I will never understand why some people feel the need to parade their personal problems on TV. It’s becoming a very fashionable thing to do. I’m losing my house, I go on TV. I want my breasts enlarged, I go on TV. I’m ill, I go on TV etc etc
Maybe Rachel of Tista’ Tkun Int could lend her a hand. We haven’t been seeing much of Rachel lately, thankfully.
@ Lino Cert:
Which were the obvious signs of depression which you witnessed on TV?
@Daphne. Great article. How do I contact you, please? I was looking for a ‘contact me’ link on your blog but it does not seem to exist.
[Daphne – You can contact me by posting a comment and asking me not to publish it. Either that, or email me at dcg@proximuspr.com]
‘It means never being without a book, reading whenever you have a dead hour or are waiting around, making time to read, and not being able to go to sleep without reading at least a few pages.’ I agree totally – and it’s a lot more enjoyable than working out what to eat….etc etc. I’m an avid reader and will sometimes read a book in a couple of days, if it’s up to it, and I’m up to it. I thoroughly recommend ‘The Religion’ by Tim somebody (can’t be fagged to go upstairs and check) – set in Malta in 1565. Excellent read. (I found it by amazing coincidence – I went to Graz to watch Austria play Malta there at footie and casually sauntered into a bookshop, which I never knew existed and – in the short time I was there – managed to spot this book, which till then I never knew existed either – and the supply of English language books is understandably somewhat limited here in Austria). Il-Bambin ried li nsibu…
Daphne, you wrote: “So no, whatever the Nationalist Statistics Office may say – or rather, whatever people may have told the data-gatherers – I don’t think that reading can possibly be the preferred hobby of 38 per cent of Maltese people.”
Do I detect a Freudian slip there? If it’s not, it’s a good one … NSO: National-IST Statistics Office :)
[Daphne – No, I touch-type, if anyone out there still knows what that means. Basically, if my fingers hit N-A-T-I- then they just keep going according to what they ‘predict’ – kind of like those dictionaries on mobile phones. For example, I’ve written whole articles about a person called ‘Normal’ Lowell.]
One thing I can’t fathom is how any sensible mother can even think of sending her 11-year-old son on a week-long fishing trip. Surely it was not meant to be some sort of holiday. I hate to think what she must be going through, carrying that burden of guilt for the rest of her life. Besides which, if she had the slightest suspicion her husband was up to something illegal, what on earth possessed her to allow him to take the lad along, and not to raise the alarm sooner rather than later?
My thoughts exactly. I fail to see how anyone can ever value something material more than they value the life of their own children.
Sadly, she’s paying a bigger price for it now. I don’t think it’s something she’ll ever get over – especially since her son’s body was never found, meaning that there can never be any closure.
Amanda and V.Vella,
I think you’re discussing the wrong mother here. Stefania lost her husband, not her son.
@Tony Pace – No, I know exactly who I’m talking about. I know that Stephania Carabott (who has no children) lost her husband; Mrs Bugeja – Simon’s wife – lost one of her sons (and her father-in-law too, but that’s an entirely different kettle of fish).
I’ve been a near neighbour of the grandparents of Theo {the little boy who was lost at sea} for many years and I know his mother to be an incredibly brave person who, with the help of her parents and brothers and sister, nephews and nieces, is doing her best to build a happy new life for Theo’s little brother who also suffered greatly at his loss. My first reaction too was to wonder how an 11-year old was allowed out on a potentially dangerous fishing trip. But after reflection and discussion with other neighbours, I understand that it has been a long tradition in Marsaxlokk for boys to go out on fishing trips with their fathers and grandfathers and if this tradition was discontinued it might well spell death to the craft of fishing in Marsaxlokk where boys follow their fathers’ footsteps at an early age.
I see your point, but it still does not excuse the fact that Mrs Bugeja valued potential material loss more than she valued her son’s life.
Someone should teach her how to sit properly! Hate the way she sits.
Reading in Malta is a hobby? You must be joking. You only have to watch PBS TV programme DIVIDE and you will realise how much the Maltese do not read. General knowledge is zilch, and to cap it all participants who claim that they are either graduates or aspiring to graduate are the worst in this department. We are a nation of one-track minds.