Interview with poet Rob Mackenzie (2)

Concluding my email interview with poet Rob Mackenzie:

YM: You also spent 4 years in Italy. What were you doing there? Do you speak Italian?

Rob: In Turin, I worked for the Waldensian church, a tiny Protestant denomination which holds claim to being the oldest Reformed church in the world. Much of my work involved giving support, advice, and help to asylum seekers, refugees, and those who were in Italy illegally.The church ran a support project, which linked up to other projects and organisations ran by the local council, the government and the Catholic church. I do speak Italian, although Im not fluent, and Im probably getting worse after two years in Scotland. I translate Italian poetry now and again, partly to keep fresh whatever language skills I have left.

Was there a cultural difference/ culture shock when you were in Italy? I would imagine there to be less of a difference as Italy is in Europe but perhaps there is more of a difference?

I think there was less of a difference, but because I could understand the differences more easily, it sometimes felt as if there was more of a difference if that makes any sense at all. To be honest, I think most British people would be very surprised to find how very different living in Italy is from the UK, as we tend to go on holidays to Europe and not notice the differences other than the obvious ones i.e. food, sun, wine etc
The bureaucracy drove me crazy, the TV was awful, the emphasis on family felt exclusionary at times to outsiders like myself (although the Turin people have the reputation as the least friendly people in Italy), and Italians shared with Korea this idea of letting you hear what you wanted to hear, irrespective of what they actually planned to do.

On the other hand, Turin was a beautiful city, my daughter couldnt go ten yards along the street without being fussed over by complete strangers (and its true that children and young people are far happier and valued morein Italy than in the UK), and we did make some good friends there. Not to mention the food and wine!

How has having lived in three cultures influenced you? What have you taken away from each of them?

From Scotland Ive taken a misguided pride, a black humour, and a stubbornness that must be a national characteristic. From Korea, Ive learned what generosity and hospitality towards outsiders really involve. From Italy, I can identify strongly with the sense of being European more than just Scottish, and I also have this grim sense that when our politicians say they are going to tackle the problems affecting young people in this country (drink, violence, hanging about the streets bored etc.), they are starting from entirely the wrong perspective because the problems go deeper than they think, and no change will come unless they tackle the root problems. I think they could learn a lot from looking at Italy.

What was it like coming back to live in the UK? And specifically in Scotland?

At first it was good. Everyone spoke English, which was so much less effort than Italian! And we could get things in the shops that were hard to come by in Italy. But soon we began to realise that these things didnt matter so much. I liked my local grocers shop and the market stalls in Turin where all the staff knew me. I liked the way you could hardly find a ready-cooked microwave meal, and I really, really missed the dry winters and the warmth of the other seasons. Would I go back to Italy in the future, given an opportunity? Yes.

Do you feel that you are now “home” in Scotland?

No, although there have been advantages. Ive made contact with the UK and Edinburgh poetry scene that I felt far away from in Turin. HappenStance may not have been as interested in publishing my poetry chapbook if I had been based in Italy, as selling it requires doing readings etc. My wife is firmly part of the amateur theatre scene in Edinburgh, which is what she loves more than anything. My daughter is getting on well at her nursery school. So well be here for a while yet, but I dont think well stay in the UK for ever.

Will you share a poem on Fusion View as my other poet contributors have done?

Will this do?

TAXI

We take the Eurostar from Oulx and shift
two Filipinos from our pre-booked seats.
Outside the Porta Susa station, roadworks
attack the tarmac and the senses, force
the taxis fifty metres from their rank.
Kebab and couscous overrun the pavements.
A Lega Nord pamphlet pins robberies
on refugees. Our daughter shades her eyes
against the winter sun that casts white walls
in negative. Two black women arrive,
toggle their overcoats to sap the chill
from the wind’s whine, and then a cab draws in:
we gather cases, cot and pushchair,
a dropped teddy bear. Footsteps slide past us -
the women test the taxi doors. The driver
waves them away. ‘Priority for kids,’
he says. Only in Italy, I think.
‘And we were here before you anyway,’
I tell the women. They shrug their shoulder pads
and claim to head some queue. ‘So are you blind?’
I ask. They turn towards the newsagent
where billboard headlines hawk the evening scoop
that boats sank close by Sicily, fifty
clandestini dead, and thirty-five
half-starved. The driver shakes his head, observes,
‘They are not blind, but African,’ and bangs
our case into his boot. ‘Priority
for whites,’ he really means, and at our gate
the price is way too high, and still we pay.

from The Clown of Natural Sorrow (HappenStance Press, December 2005)

Copyright Rob Mackenzie

Photo: thanks to unep.org