On Monday, it took me 50 minutes to drive from Lija to five-minutes-away Naxxar. On Tuesday, to go to Mġarr from Mosta, it took me one-and-a-half hours. On Wednesday, from Pietà to Sliema, it took me an hour. On Thursday from Mġarr to Ta’ Xbiex it took me an hour-and-a-half. On Friday morning, I spent the best of two hours tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I was stuck in a gridlock trying to get to Valletta from Paola. By Friday afternoon, I was going mad.
And just at that point, as I was contemplating whether I should start gnawing at the dashboard in frustration, through the rear mirror I saw a man jogging on the pavement bypassing standstill cars.
For wont of nothing to do, I peered closely in the mirror. I could see from his very weathered skin that he was no young spright, probably in his late 60s or 70s.
He came closer to the car and then jogged comfortably past me as he kept on running in the direction of Valletta. My only thought, as I realised he was going to reach his destination before me, was: if a 70-year-old can do it – so can we. And for a while, my frustration gave way to a dream, complete with the San Carlo crisps soundtrack of singing angels.
Isn’t the retirement of Mr Justice Joseph Galea Debono a loss to the courts? And isn’t the removal of heart surgeon Albert Fenech a mentoring loss to cardiac specialists?
I imagined a Malta full of Forrest Gumps, no cars, no smog, just muscled people, smiling, running to work, to school, to the pub and getting there on time. Active older people are very inspiring, although still uncommon. Whenever I find myself in some walkathon or other, there’s always a couple of people aged 60-plus speeding past me, on some Telgħa tas-Saqqajja, while I’m huffing and wheezing and blaming the extra nightcap the evening before.
When I see them, I always say to myself, “Ah, when I am 70, that is what kind of old woman I want to be.” Until, of course, I realised that if I’m an idle couch potato at 39, there’s no way I can be a Usain Bolt at the age of 70.
The problem is that as a society we still think in terms of xjuħ and xjuħija. For example: heard on the radio this week (again while stuck in traffic
Phone-in: “Hello, jien mara anzjana nixtieq nagħmel kumment.”
Presenter: “Prosit sinjura. Nieħdu gost li propju anke l-anzjani jsegwuna.”
Phone-in: “Iva ħi, jien għandi 64 ta, imma nipprova nsegwi kollox.”
Presenter: “Alla jbierek, sinjura. Il-bambin ikompli miegħek!”
What utter silliness is this? Why is it that our pensioners are acting like they are at the end of the road and why is it that we pander to that attitude? Statistics say people that age are expected to live into their 80s on average, so does this woman plan to sit around for two decades just ageing in place, with the presenter encouraging her?
Perhaps it does not help that the average profile of a Maltese 60-plus is overweight, suffers from type 2 diabetes and excels at minutely complaining about each and every ache.
But it was not always like this: in generations past, an old person was revered and respected. Whereas in this day and age, we talk down to old people, our conversations consists in humouring them and our mantra is ‘Make way for the young ones’. Sadly, in order to stick to it to age limitations, we have lost experienced minds.
Isn’t the retirement of Mr Justice Joseph Galea Debono a loss to the courts? And isn’t the removal of heart surgeon Albert Fenech a mentoring loss to cardiac specialists? Ironically, last Thursday, on the International Day of Older Persons, Justine Caruana, Parliamentary Secretary for Active Ageing, wrote about how she wants older workers to contribute further to the workforce. There’s two suggestions she can take up.
Meanwhile, the US business magazine Forbes recently said that 60 has become the new 30, that grey is gold.
It revealed statistics of how sexagenarians were increasingly becoming more successful in their pension age thanks to experience, humility and bruises that young people, regardless of their IQ or wonderful ideas, can never achieve.
Maybe it’s high time we stopped talking about xjuħija and anzjani and start a campaign for 40-year-olds. I once heard a paediatrician say: show me a child at six and I’ll tell you what an adult he’ll be.
Well, I say: Show me an adult at 40 and I’ll tell you what a senior citizen he’ll be. If we all take to jogging now, at least the phone-ins in 20 years’ time will be of better quality. And so will traffic.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti