A very Maltese ‘presepju’...

Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? I mean, the poor kid hasn’t even been born yet... and already we’re configuring his Nativity Scene to feature the instrument of torture upon which he will be executed around 33 years into the future.

Not just any old cross, please note. The Maltese ‘presepju’ (crib), currently  on display in St Peter’s Square in Rome, had to feature a ‘Maltese cross’, of all things... that is to say, a cross that would eventually come to symbolise a monastic order of warrior monks that was founded over a millennium after Christ’s death.  And it has eight points, too...  each signifying one of the ‘Eight Beatitudes’ that Jesus (who won’t actually be born until Sunday, in case you’ve forgotten) has yet to even imagine, still less recite in a sermon...

But hey! Let’s nor ruin what is otherwise a charming little cultural export with too much insistence on verisimilitude. Otherwise, we’d end up with a politically correct ‘presepju’ like the one doing the rounds on the Internet at the moment. It omits all representations of refugees (which sort of rules out Joseph, Mary AND Baby Jesus)... Jews (not to offend Neo-Nazis)... Arabs (not to frighten Americans, who may not know that there wouldn’t actually have been any for centuries)... the Star of Bethlehem (Neil De Grasse Tyson called insisting I include this)... and of course, the ox and the donkey (to avoid pissing off any Vegans). Technically, not even the manger should be left, as even that is a cultural manifestation of the exploitation of live animals for the benefit of humans.

Likewise, there would be precious little left of our ‘Maltese presepju‘ if we insisted on accuracy in every detail. The prickly pears, for instance. Oh, yes... immediately identifiable with Malta, no one can deny that. The only snag is that they were introduced here from a New World that had to wait until 1492 to actually be discovered. Or how about the Maltese luzzu? Something similar may well have existed 2,000 years ago, I don’t doubt... but what use could it possibly have been in Bethlehem: a town that was (and still is) 40 miles from the sea, at an altitude of around 2,460 feet above sea-level?

No, let us not be too asinine (or bovine, if you prefer) about such matters. Sure, there could have been a luzzu at the scene of the Nativity. Jesus could walk on water, couldn’t he? No reason to suppose he couldn’t also sail on land. And as for the miraculous appearance of St Gorg Preca: well, as a sci-fi aficionado I rather like the idea of him travelling backwards to a Time when his own existence (as the priest of a Catholic Church which had yet to be founded) would have been clearly impossible. My only complaint is that they didn’t show him stepping out of the TARDIS. Now that would have given the ‘Ghageb’ something to gawk at...

Speaking of whom... those three typically Maltese ‘pasturi’ – the ‘Ghageb’, the ‘Xabbatur’, and the lazy one whose name I always forget - are perhaps the only things that would actually remain in our historically and politically correct crib. Unlike the others, they really are genuine Maltese Christmas traditions. But no matter. We’ve decided to go that little extra step, and imbibe our Nativity Scene with more recent examples of typical Maltese iconography... and that’s perfectly fine, I have no problem with it whatsoever.

Except maybe one. Why stop at only those modern additions? Why only a time-travelling saint, a Maltese balcony (which, I can’t help but note, isn’t even made of aluminium), a luzzu and a few measly pumpkins on the roof? Come on, we can build a better ‘Maltese presepju’ than that. And there’s still four days to go. Plenty of time to give it a make-over...

The Building Site

I say we start with the structure of the presepju itself. Typical Maltese townhouses, with their wooden balconies and external drains, would be perfectly fine if we were trying to showcase Malta in the 1980s. But this is 21st century  Malta we’re talking about, folks. That type of dwelling is so... passé. 

Besides, let us not forget the actual circumstances of the nativity. Why was Jesus born in a stable, anyway? Because there was no room at the inn, and Mary and Joseph obviously couldn’t afford to rent a one-bedroomed apartment for a minimum of €580 a month. 

That’s easy enough to picture in a local setting. What would happen if he were really born here under those circumstances?  The birth would have taken place in the underground garage of a half-constructed high-rise apartment block, of course. Yes, that would work nicely. And it’s far more realistic than a ‘typical’ townhouse that is actually vanishing from sight as we speak... 

So take out all the fancy backdrops, and just stick in a few walls of grey concrete and some steel shaft-like structures jutting upwards everywhere...  a few piles of gravel, a cement mixer, and a couple of bulldozers to replace the ox and ass... and there you have it. The Maltese presepju, as it really happened...

Now for the ‘pasturi’. Like I said earlier, the existing ones can all stay as they are. But we do need a few more slightly realistic specimens to bring the entire product up to date. So here are a few suggestions to add to the traditional Gawker, Cheapskate-Who -Didn’t-Buy-A-Ticket, and Old Lazybones. 

The Doughnut van

Let’s be serious about this, people: do we really expect anyone to believe that you are likelier to encounter a flock of sheep in Malta than a van selling doughnuts? Forget it. Nobody would ever buy it.  For the setting to work, there would have to be two – not one – doughnut vans, each strategically placed at opposite corners, so that their speaker systems can compete for the intervening territory.  And besides: think of the child that is soon to be born in that manger (I mean, underground culvert). What could be sweeter music to his ears, than for his birth to be heralded to the world by a chorus of: ‘Dawk id-doughnuts! Friski u tajbin...!’

The Angry Online Commentator

We’ve already got a ‘Maltese cross’ in there... so why not a ‘cross Maltese’?  Besides: how could any self-respecting Maltese nativity scene would be truly complete, without some insensitive prick or other passing an entirely inappropriate comment along the lines of: ‘how dare a family of Nazarene refugees just come here like that, invading our village and threatening our jobs? Go back to your own part of Judaea!’  Etc. Etc. 

Well, I’ve thought of two ways this can be done in our ‘presepju’, as it is online. First, by simply inserting a monitor at the bottom of the display, showing actual local comments about entirely analogous scenarios that took place in Malta: for instance, public reactions to the recent suggestion that ‘children born to asylum-seeking parents’ (ahem) should be given Maltese citizenship.   

The second way is to actually portray the commentator as a ‘pastur’ in his or her own right. Visible through an upstairs window, they could be seen angrily typing away at their keyboards, oblivious to the miraculous birth taking place at the building site next door... 

The Three High-Worth Individuals

Which brings us to our final addition. ‘Kings’ and ‘Magi’ were all well and good for as long as  ‘presepji’ were set in bygone eras... and ‘wise men’, of course, were never exactly overabundant in any age... but just as times have changed, so too has the way society appraises its individual members. ‘Wisdom’ and ‘monarchical power’ are clearly of no further use, in an age of rampant capitalism. So what could be more ’Maltese’ a touch, than to include a graphic representation of things we value most as a culture? 

Yes, indeed. Here come the ‘Three High-Worth Individuals’: no longer riding horses or camels, but chauffeured in limos... no longer bearing gifts of frankincense and myrrh (though gold, naturally, still does very nicely indeed), but instead promising large local investments in return for a piddly little passport that would guarantee European citizenship to them and their descendants. 

Hither have they come from afar, following the miraculous Euro sign in the sky... not, of course, to witness the birth of yet another refugee child, or anything so mundane and inconsequential... but all the way to the offices of Identity Malta, where they shall be received like Kings and Magicians.

And with that fleeting glimpse of them hurrying by in the distance behind a police escort, our very Maltese ‘presepju’ is finally complete. All that remains is for the carols to be sung:

‘Oh Come, All Ye Wealthy...’