Dem Bones, Dem Bones, Dem Dry Bones.

I know. Totally, I am. Not Cool.

But, we finally took the time to go to the Archeology Museum, and it was quite amazing, especially if you like skull measurements, and comparisons, along with 5000-year-old bodies/skeletons and big slabs of rock. That is essentially what the stone era had to deal with, and you go with what you’ve got, right? No written record, naturally, so we just make up stories, and I’ve not yet seen DNA analysis to show us who the heck they were, all those people, back when Sicily had a land bridge to Malta, 90 Kilometers away. Puzzling. Yet they made art, left decorations, figurines, and buried their dead with honors, of sorts. And—- we went to a nearby church, really a ‘stone’s throw’ away from our place.

San Lorenzo is the original church of the Order of the Knights of Malta of Saint John. They were aristocratic, wealthy, military monks of well-known families in Spain (first) who took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, while wielding long pikes and swords along with suits of armor. The poverty vow seems to be a lighter commitment, as they had enormous palaces, buildings and created whole cities, organized defensive structures that bristled with walls and guards.

The gigantic, multi-altared, overwhelmingly artistic soul of San Lorenzo is very Spanish in origin and feeling. By that, I mean dark, dramatic, and passionately eager to show off the various ways of death for God’s glory. San Lorenzo himself, for example, is standing in a glass case, available to be carried around for celebrations, holding onto his metal grill. (The one upon which he is tortured and burned alive, I am told. Impressive, but gaudy. )

I also have pictures of a mummy case of Saint Someone, his actual skeleton laying on its side under an altar, ribs and all, sword in his hand, ready to leap up and fight with the invisible forces of evil.

There was a very sweet man door keeping for visitors, and his devotion is evident. While offering my prayers of thanksgiving for my sick friend who is apparently going to come back around, now my Thank-you-God prayers, I sat under an enormous painting —I had to search for a positive one — and was busy being pious when the church sound system began playing ‘Oh Happy Day,’ first performed by Edwin Hawkins, who won a Grammy for it as well. Discordant to the church itself, it lightened up the gloom considerably, and I bopped around among the dying and tortured. Experience. Bizarre.

The vast building was the first church for the Knights here in Malta and is held in great esteem. Having been bombed, it was quickly rebuilt stone by stone.

We’ve had so many good meals, and waiters have expressed their political views freely, mostly Maltese, mostly positive. It’s been nice to actually have adult waiters, and never once has anyone told us our choices were “perfect,” a USA waitstaff-approval-response that makes me laugh. Although I did almost order something today with a desire to try something new, and the young woman looked at me, got closer, and said ” Are you an adventurous eater?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, and we decided on something different I’d never heard of.

The American University on Malta is all taught and tested in English, and offers some post-degree programs, at a rate of $2500 per semester after some grants. I thought it would be quite the adventure to be a student here if I was going to go to college and was about 20 years old. It would be a great experience as a child of the world. Beaches, boats, school, international experience!

Pride in history here, as I’ve said, is strong. Maltese are a nation, small but still, a country. So, where does the rather common Maltese blue, grey, and green eyes come from—it’s not from Sicily, probably. I read that Maltese have black and brown eyes, then I checked it out, and, Google doesn’t seem to know either. As we usually do, we leave unfinished bits behind to understand or revisit, and this puzzle will have to sort out at some later time.

When we leave it will be with great appreciation for the Maltese – that loud, boisterous, exuberant, funny, and hospitable people who made us welcome, and showed us their country, (26 miles x 8 miles) its origins, its pride, and its heart. We felt safe the entire time, my feet hurt from walking all over, we spent a little time on the water (oh Yeay) and got around beautifully, since this country has its visitors ducks, and yachts, in a row.

For now, however, it’s time for us to begin the slow march back toward home. Then the carb-lightening begins! OMG

Thanks for reading along with us as we go, friends and relatives.