Actually, let's clean up Isle 2 as well, while we're at it, although I do believe that Gozo is the cleaner (certainly, and understandably, the greener) of the two isles.
I cannot understand the difficulty behind cleaning up after oneself. It is certainly something the Maltese have difficulty in doing, and it seems many deem it a task requiring industrious effort.
Yet other countries make tidying up look incredibly easy - perhaps easier than it actually is.
Protestors in Hong Kong have been extremely organised and polite, armed with placards expressing their frustration with the system and, underneath their grievance, displaying a "sorry for the inconvenience" message. "Fighting for Democracy - Sorry for the inconvenience" is not exactly the typical protest placard.
Hong Kong protestors have put up barricades to block the streets - and a sign apologising for it. "Sorry No Entry"; that's the sign on an obstructing pile of steel barricades, umbrellas and other assorted objects. Compare this with the cheek and arrogance of RTO signs dotting our countryside and frequently found on paths and passages that are not reserved to owner at all.
The Hong Kong protestors, despite being sprayed with pepper spray and bombarded with tear gas, have kept their cool and maintained their civilised manners. And they have consistently cleaned up after themselves. Imagine that: a people frustrated with an oppressive system, fearing the complete loss of democratic expression, has the time and discipline to clean up.
The protestors have also respected signs to keep off the grass: signs we usually vandalise. Staying civil in the face of oppression is a feat in itself, but keeping to rules in a time of anxiety, when we can't even keep to them in normal times, makes theirs an act of truly civil disobedience.
Now in all fairness, the dismal performance of the Maltese side against Norway may have been more depressing to the Maltese than the shackles of oppression are to the Hong Kong protestors, but the match against Italy showed a resilient side giving a performance worthy of the bigger names in football. I couldn't attend that one but, given the larger attendance, there is no doubt in my mind that the crowd left an even bigger mess behind.
At the last World Cup, the Japanese supporters actually took garbage bags with them to clean up their rubbish afterwards: incredible discipline and a thoughtful act we should all learn to emulate.
In fact, it seems to me that the issue goes beyond simple hygiene. It reflects the more general selfish attitude and mentality of the people. There is no thought for others. No self-discipline. To be sure, cleaners are employed at the stadium, but why is there such a sadistic need to make their job harder, when all it takes is a moment's effort and a basic concern for the other person?
On my way to work this past week, I noticed a man, impeccably dressed - leather shoes, beautiful tie, cufflinks to boot - opening a packet of cigarettes. No prize for guessing where the wrapper went. To me, that action showed dirtiness and scruffiness much more than any oil-stained overalls would have done.
We have much to learn from the Orientals. Discipline is important in much of oriental philosophy: discipline of both the mind and of the body. Take the Confucian concept of hara hachi bu for instance, which basically instructs people to eat only until they are roughly 80 per cent full - in other words, eat until satiated and not until the button pops. And what about martial arts, which Westerners have managed to adopt à la carte, in many cases removing the disciplinary and philosophical aspect and concentrating solely on those high kicks and cool swords and, of course, on bloodying each other to death and calling it sport.
Self-discipline is a noble trait to possess, and it's one that is lacking in our genetic make-up. And yet it is still a primitive trait, which just goes to show how far behind we are in attaining humanity. Kant once distinguished between moral actions and disciplined actions. He rebuked his compatriots for being not moral, but self-disciplined: the latter act on learnt impulse, almost robotically, perhaps through some sort of Freudian guilt feeling. The former, on the other hand, act responsibly out of a genuine and human concern for the good of others.
That's where morality teaching comes in: not religious studies, but studies in morality. Not learning by rote, but by a true understanding of issues and the cultivation of empathy. Let's not force our children to do good (we all know how that turned out, after all); let's encourage sense and reason instead, and let them come to the realisation of the good on their own.
Education must, however, go beyond the academic teaching of traditional subjects if we are to achieve this, and include a broader outlook on things that matter, like the environment and proper manners, before they go extinct.
Socrates believed that people are prone to do good and harm each other (and themselves) only when they don't know what is truly good for them. His position is debatable, although I can assure you that it's not as obviously wrong as you're probably thinking.
People should clean up after themselves not because they are forced to do so but because they understand it is best for them and everyone else; they should be kind to others not because it is required of them, but because they want to be.
The solution, as Kant hinted, is to turn the "I must" into an "I will". Nobody likes to do what they must; everybody is willing to do what they will.
Until that happens, however, we should probably invite the Hong Kong protestors to hold a protest in Malta: it would certainly clean the place up.