Sometimes I am ashamed to be Maltese.

It happens, in most cases, when foreigners are involved. Whenever I hear stories of bus drivers overcharging tourists, or restaurant owners serving visitors poor quality food, or when hotels are dirty and offer a pitiable service, I blush with the embarrassment of someone who wants the best for his country, but is often let down by the behaviour of his compatriots.

Although campaigns have been held to instil a sense of patriotism and the need to safeguard and enhance our tourism industry, especially at a time when it is being hit hard by the international recession, there are still occasions when we shoot ourselves in the foot. I still remember, for example, the images of tourists dragging their luggage across fields and bumpy roads on a hot July day during the public transport strike last year.

The situation is worse, perhaps, when some Maltese misbehave while abroad. The only advantage is that when it happens most foreigners don’t recognise the Maltese language, and therefore would not know that a “Maltese” citizen is making a fool of himself and of his country. It is only other Maltese people who are literally humiliated when they see a fellow countryman in a foreign country behaving badly.

It might be little things, and most Maltese people would not notice them, simply because we are so used to incivility, perhaps even take it for granted. But, when they happen abroad, it goes to show that we still have so much to learn. We became members of the European Union five years ago, but we still do not behave like Europeans in many ways.

I was reminded of how bad Maltese behaviour can be during a recent trip to north Italy. Lake Garda, Venice and Verona are all beautiful places; the pity is that the Maltese have found out about them, so one tends to bump into compatriots quite often. And the experience is often not pleasant, as I got to know first hand.

Good thing that my Italian is good enough to pass as one of the locals – the question I was always asked what was the region I came from, not the country, just because they could not place the accent – and therefore I could hide my embarrassment when another Maltese could have humiliated me.

Let me give you a few examples.

I was waiting to buy an ice cream – one of the delicious flavours that the Italians know how to do best (the amarena and veneziana are my favourites). Suddenly a commotion ensued. It turned out that a Maltese woman – I understood the bad language she was using – had tried to jump the queue. This hamalla, with a dozen or so bracelets on each arm, apparently thought that she could do as she always does in Malta.

I was relaxing on a sun-bed near the hotel pool. It was all peace and quiet except for some children playing in the water. Suddenly shouts of “Challie, Challie…” boomed out from one of the balconies. It was a Maltese lady calling her husband (well, I presumed he was) to go “ghax sar il-hin” (because it was getting late). Maybe a text message was too expensive for her. The man sunbathing next to me looked up and turned to me with a wry smile that expressed all his disgust. I bowed my head, picked up my towel and moved to another sun-bed.

I was walking along the spectacular promenade in Garda, and heard familiar Maltese words being spoken by a family in front of me. They were talking loudly enough for people on the other side of the lake to hear them. One of the kids was eating a packet of sweets and one of the adults was smoking a cigarette. Finished, the child threw the empty packet on the ground while the adult flicked his cigarette butt into the lake. An Italian lady who was walking behind them picked up the empty packet and deposited it in a bin – there is one every 15 metres. Pity she did not throw the adult into the water for him to recover the cigarette butt.

It’s the same with Gozitans too, apparently. One of them – he mentioned his home town festa a few times in the 20 minutes he was waiting some metres ahead of me for one of the rides at Gardaland – peppered his conversation with “haqq” this and “haqq” that, mingled with the “z” and “double x” words. He thought that only the three people with him could understand what he was saying. He was mistaken.

It is a real pity indeed that we take our bad characteristics with us. There is a well-known saying that goes when in Rome do as the Romans do”. We could coin another one for the Maltese – that they behave badly wherever they go.

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