I do not think I am mind-f**ked – I think James Debono needs to dedicate a survey to those politicians who had Toy Churches!

[Daphne – Oh, so you had one, then. I see. That’s why you’re so touchy about it.]

Daphne – we used to call her Doris tal-Bicciet. She passed away a couple of years ago. What memories.

[Daphne – Yes, I remember her well.]

I confess it HAD inspired me to take up that hobby the following day, but that was very shortlived indeed.

It takes a certain kind of brain to sit alone, watch cars drive past and log their number – and to enjoy doing so.

I see another ricotta debate on the way.

I heard the same story from a different (though similar) source. His mother pretended and acted like a “sinjura”, making sure that everybody realised she was ‘a cut above the rest’. Leo himself carries that aura despite his ‘working class’ claptrap. He must have lived in Cospicua up to his early teens.

[Daphne – His father’s family, the Brincats, owned the City Gem restaurant just off the Sliema Strand, and his aunt Doris Brincat, a very nice woman, owned a fabric shop close by, where I used to buy lots of stuff.]

To a large extent Mintoff had a similar childhood. I heard it a long time ago from a contemporary of his that he (Mintoff) preferred sitting alone with a pencil and a piece of paper writing down the registration number of the (few) cars that passed along the main road where the other children would be playing and running nearby in the Santa Liena area.

[Daphne – How odd that you should say that. Saviour Balzan once wrote an article saying that he used to sit on his grandmother’s doorstep doing just that: logging the numbers of cars that passed by. Do we see a pattern here?]

The source also recalled that when he once went to ask for Mintoff’s help (he was still in opposition then – it was in the 60s) in getting one of his children employed with a private company, Mintoff replied: ‘Eh Guz, int hmar kont u hmar bqajt!’

It is to be borne in mind that up to the War Bormla and the Cottonera (which includes Birgu and Senglea) was a Nationalist stronghold. Two of the best known PN politicians hailing from that area were ‘Il-Gross’ and Mons. Panzavecchia. Quite a few well-to-do families lived there, especially in and around the Santa Margerita area. Some fine townhouses are still standing despite the bombings.

Thanks to the Naval Dockyard the whole area and surrounding villages thrived on the economic prosperity generated there. I believe Caffe Cordina and Galea Sluta started their confectionery businesses there. There were other noteworthy artisan shops that reflected the economic importance of the area.

In the socio-economic conditions prevailing there up to the second half of the last century it is no surprise that many middle class families aspired to have one (or more) of their offspring join the priesthood. The Mintoff family, whose mother is known to have been a money-lender (against gold), had two children with religious vocations, while Dom himself was a Seminary student.

As to the ‘real Malta’ back then, you had (and still have – like in every other place) the ‘haves and have-nots’. Whether, as a child, you played with a toy church (by yourself) or a ball made of cloth and straw (with other children) depended on your family social and financial background. On the other hand the vast majority of Maltese families were on the lowest rungs of society.

[Daphne – Whether children played alone or with others did not depend on their social status but on their parents’ outlook and on their own psychology. It was quite possible to play with a toy church with others or with a ball made of cloth and straw, alone. I wasn’t exactly a have-not, but the only times I played inside alone was when I was in trouble or when it was raining (and in any case I had my siblings). The rest of the time I was on the streets with the rest of the neighbourhood children who, given the nature of the neighbourhood, weren’t have-nots either. I can think of only two households with children who weren’t allowed out to play with everyone else. And yes, perhaps we are seeing a pattern, because one of those children was Michael Falzon, the Labour politician, who was always made to study because playing outside was a waste of time.]

Come on. I agree with you on most things, but on this I cannot.

It was normal for children in areas like the 4th and 5th district to play with such things, especially given the great importance and influence the village festa plays in their lives – from labourers to professionals. Many are still passionate today and they display them for the festa week as well.

I do not know what happened in Stricklandjani or Mintufjani house holds in the northern harbour area or in the southern harbour area… but it might have been different there due to the social differences.

As for cooking and eating a toy church, I do not put it past those of the southern harbour area, as if they were told to, they would have.

[Daphne – Well, there you have it, Bob. The people who weren’t given toy churches to play with grew up able to think. And the ones who played with toy churches were mind-f**ked.]

[Daphne – My, zunzana, those games must have been fun. I mean, seriously now – what did you actually DO? How do you play with an altar and candlesticks?]

I also remember my son telling me he wanted to become a Pope, because he wanted to travel and see the world. His second alternative was to become a greengrocer hawker (tal-haxix) because in those days most of them had the biggest cars and a boat.

Le Bubu ta, normali mhiex. I have a lot of relatives who come from non ‘Stricklandjani’ backgrounds, and playing with a toy church was the last thing on their mind.

Here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f23XAuWEDIo

[Daphne – In the real Malta to which I imagine you refer, Bob, people didn’t play with toy churches because they slept on straw, or six to a bed if they were really lucky. If they found a toy church, they would have cooked it and eaten it.]