I picked up our local newspaper and started to read an article about an adopted Japanese woman, who was rather insulted by the fact she is constantly approached by other fellow Japanese people and they speak Japanese to her, assuming after all she is Japanese. She has to inform them that she speaks only English. I couldn't read any further as by this stage the newspaper was saturated. Wiping the drips from my face I was instantly reminded of the first time I met my best friend Alex, I chuckled out aloud. The couple that sat next to me moved suspiciously further down the bench.
While in the last throws of my Fine Arts degree 10 years ago, a few fellow art friends and I started a co-op gallery. The aim was to help all emerging artists, artists such as ourselves, step up to exposure, recognition and a chance. Smooth out the injustices of the art world, by not being a part of it. We had ideals, politics and a driven desire to make it a success. Our group of 10 quickly whittled down to 6, when the question of money arose. 6 people still operate the gallery today. Marion's role was to find new and exciting artists, and my role was to draw out of them as much information as possible to market the exhibition. Most of the time it is easier to draw blood out of a stone. With artists it's never an easy process, call it artistic demeanour.
At one Camden art show, she discovered the quirky lively paintings of one Alex McBoko.
She rang me a few weeks later to say she had spoken to him and was organising for him to contact me to arrange an appointment
"He's lovely, but really hard to understand on the phone due to his very thick Scottish accent. He moved here just 2 years ago from Scotland. You should meet him rather than do a phone interview".
Sure enough when I did speak to him on the phone, I could barely understand him. We agreed to meet at a cafe the following Tuesday. He asked me if I was Irish, as I have an Irish name. Explaining to him that my mother was dutch and my dad was French Mauritian, and the name was a pulled out of a hat. "So your a darky are you?', technically yes, but I take after my mother.
We agreed to meet outside the cafe. I turned up a minute early waiting at the front of the cafe, and around a minute later an Asian man wearing a suit, carrying a brief case showed up and stood on the opposite side of the entrance. We exchanged glances amongst a lot of other people milling about. 10 minutes later I went to call him to see how far away he was, when my mobile rang and it was Alex "I'm waiting at the cafe, how far away are you?" he asks. I look through the front window to see if I can see anyone sitting by themselves inside. "Oh I am outside waiting for you Alex" I reply. Chuckling a reply, "I am too!". Turning around to search the outdoor crowd I can only see the Asian man talking on his mobile.
"I can't see you Alex, where are you?". I am still searching the crowd of faces.
"Aye I think I can see you, your wearing red pants that have frangipani's and a green top, I'm right next to you". In his very thick Scottish accent, that seems to be very close.
Swinging around, the Asian man in the business suit is now standing right next to me, smiling, holding up his phone.
"You're a bit peculiar! with your blond hair, brown eyes and lily white skin" He looks me up and down with a mocking smile.
We find a spot inside and the waitress walks over to get our order, Alex orders for the both of us and the waitress flinches with a double take at the sound of his voice, with a quick disbelieving shake of her head she's off.
He tells me that he was in Cabramatta the other day seeing a client, and he was spoken to in Vietnamese, he cheekily spoke back in Gaelic.
By the way he mentions he takes after his mother too. I eventually find out that Alex's Scottish dad was on holiday in Thailand, where he fell in love and married Alex's mum. Ethan came first, 2 years after that Alex was born. Unfortunately Alex's mum died shortly after his birth and their forlorn dad took both the boys back home to Scotland to be raised with wonderful grandparents and a plethora of aunts, uncles and cousins.
I guess we have a friendship on the commonality that we don't look like what we are supposed to look like. I don't look part negro at all, and Alex doesn't look Scottish.
Alex has become quite a successful artist and I, well, you could say I am a practising artist in hiatus.
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