Last week was indeed a sad one for all lovers of Maltese tradition, art and culture when on Thursday morning, it became known that Il-Budaj had passed away.

For Frans Baldacchino was far more than a simple ghannej (folk singer), although this art form demands considerable skill, painstaking work, extraordinary observation and attention to detail. He was much more than that.

Il-Budaj was a much loved and greatly appreciated individual who managed to lift folk singing out of its predominantly simple roots onto a the more prestigious stage of high culture. Who could ever have predicted that Etnika, another fine example of tradition and cultural preservation, would team up with the folk singers, who are usually more of a fixture on a Sunday morning programme or in some forgotten village bar?

But Frans managed to do so, and do so well, and his astonishing faculty for absorbing all that went on around him came out very clearly in his poetry, writings, singing and also in sculpture and art… he was a true bastion of cultural life in the very best sense.

Unfortunately, as time goes by, we continue to lose our traditions in the face of the onslaught of what is termed the “modern” way of living. It will be hard to find someone else like il-Budaj, because he managed to tie modern ways with tradition to pass his message across and put ghana on the “modern” map.

Earlier in the year, Malta also lost Charles Arrigo, the cream of the crop of broadcasters, who throughout his career worked hard to keep local traditions alive among the public.

But as time passes, the roots and traditions that used to identify us as a nation continue to disappear, never to come back. Long gone is the grim ghonnella, worn by women over so many years, several children’s games like passju or beads and marbles, boat building (very few luzzu builders are left) and countless other traditions and skills that used to be part and parcel of what made us Maltese.

Many argue that one cannot stop progress and that is certainly true. As we live in a fast world of cutting edge technology, speed has become the backbone of our lives. But then, we almost crave a quiet moment, one that is far away from the noisy and busy lifestyle that we all tend to live these days, and this was superbly exploited by Il-Budaj in more ways than one.

Frans’ death also almost coincides with the release of Oliver Friggieri’s novel, La Jibnazza Nigi Lura, a strikingly real life portrait of village life in the bygone days but with the social problems that affect our daily lives. As columnist Lino Spiteri so rightly said in one of his articles last week, the narrative is dominated by bells, which are the main leitmotif of the novel.

Although the world is changing, perhaps at too fast a pace for many of us, it will be good to reflect on what one of the characters of the novel, Wistin, says when he describes his early days at an orphanage. “Konna l-genna, Ma” (We were in heaven, mother). For many, the past is always better than the present.

Friggieri is a master at creating that almost unbearable sense of nostalgia as we see the quiet world that dominated our forefathers’ life running away from us. And the bells that ring in one’s ears as you read on can only remind you of that quaint village life so aptly described in dozens of Baldacchino’s songs.

One can only imagine what Il-Budaj would have made out of that wonderful comparison between heaven and church bells.

Sahha, habib.