“Oh mamma mia! Oh la la! The light is on in the loggia! Habemus papam!” cried Sister Walburga, a nun from Germany, who almost ran out of languages in her excitement as a shadow formed behind the curtain on the balcony in St Peter’s Square.
Pope Francis was helped up the steps of the balcony, with an apologetic look on his face as if to say: ‘I’m really sorry but I’m afraid you’ve just gotten yourselves lumped with me, another oldie’
I took this straight out of a report in The Guardian, because it mirrors pretty much what was going on in our household last Wednesday evening. The minute we saw the white smoke coming out of the chimney, we set up an impromptu picnic in front of television. Like patented Maltese, we swiftly adopted the motto: any occasion is a good occasion to celebrate.
My daughter, still in election mode fever, and incredulous that her bedtime was extended, wanted to call everyone: “Aunty! Aunty! Malta has a new leader!” And while I tried to explain that Malta is not the centre of the world and that the Pope will have more on his mind than half a million Maltese people, we were entertained by the jolly ditties of marching brass bands. It was one happy affair.
Such was our excitement that I forgot completely about that French cardinal whose duty it was to pronounce ‘Habemus Papam’. And when the balcony door opened and he came out – part tipsy-like, part pasty-pale and absolutely looking like Death – I thought he was the new Pope and nearly fainted.
What’s the point of replacing a frail Pope with a frailer one? Even his Habemus Papam lacked the oomph.
“He didn’t say it like you’ve been saying it mama,” my daughter said, cupping her hands in front of her mouth and booming it out “Habemus Papam” – like he should have.
After a few more ta-da ta-da moments, Pope Francis was helped up the steps of the balcony, looking every inch like our own Archbishop Emeritus Ġużeppi Mercieca, with an astounded and apologetic look etched on his face, as if to say: “I’m really sorry but I’m afraid you’ve just gotten yourselves lumped with me, another oldie.”
Then came his first words: “Buona sera”. Hang on. That sounded so… so unPope-like, so normal. No wonder the crowd in the square were reported to have turned to each other saying: “Good evening! He said ‘good evening’!” as if they could hardly believe their luck. We are a funny species, us Catholics – it does not take much to make us happy.
And it got even better: the Pope cracked a joke. In his first speech, out on the balcony in St Peter’s Square, he actually cracked a joke about how cardinals found a Pope from “the other end of the world”.
Not a doubled-up-holding-the-belly kind of joke, but a joke nonetheless. And that made us all even happier: our 266th infallible leader of the Roman Catholic Church has a sense of humour.
After eight years of Benedict’s pomp and ceremony, silk and fur, and Prada shoes and homilies in Latin, this is what we all have been waiting for: the Pope next door.
By now we all know that he commutes by bus, loves tango, is an ardent football fan, speaks Spanish, is fine about people using condoms to prevent diseases, cooks his own meal, lives in a small flat and trained as a chemist. And he’s only got one lung – having lost the other one to an infection. He could easily be anyone’s next door neighbour. Even his face looks like someone you know but can’t place.
By the next day, the media had sieved through all his 76 years of life and all the words he uttered.
“He was passive during Argentina’s military dictatorship!” But how many of us actually know what went on during the dark years of the Argentinian Junta?
“He’s not in favour of gays adopting!” went the affronted cry. Which to me sounded a bit like being outraged because “Kate Moss likes make-up!” Can we just keep ourselves in check and remember that the Pope is a staunch Catholic and that in his old age he’s not about to suddenly become a liberal?
Does having this new Pope make a difference to my life? No, not as such. But indirectly, perhaps yes. If this Pope is amiable, if he has his finger on the pulse of the 1.2 billion Catholics he heads, then he will be a positive force.
For example, the day after he was elected, he insisted on paying his hotel bill before heading to his official Pope quarters. It’s an act which, in its simplicity made me chuckle. If he spreads more cheer by his actions it’s already more than enough for us all.
krischetcuti@gmail.com