The life of a diplomat is one of regular flux, of periodic displacement; however Madame Catherine Wallisky, from the French Embassy stops short of using the word ‘uprootings’. “I have no roots. My father was born in 1897 in Belarus but his family was Polish (hence the surname). When he was 20 he joined the army of the Tsar as an officer. My mother was a Venetian – and I was one of seven children brought up in Jura on the east of France, a location that was full of immigrant foreigners. My memories of my childhood are not joyous. It was after the Second World War but what was interesting is the multicultural and multiracial environment. Something that appeared quite natural to me as a child.”
Catherine studied Law at university and she had to sit for her exams in May 1968. But at that time fate decided to intervene and police repression of student demonstrations lead to strikes. Within days 10 million French workers were on strike, many occupying their factories and educational institutions closed their doors, cancelling all exams. “I decided to go to Paris to find a job,” she tells me. She landed a post in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and some time later sat for the exams to enter the diplomatic corps. Her first posting was in London and her second was in the Ukraine. “Malta is my third posting.” Her job is that of first counsellor and a deputy to the present French Ambassador, M. Patrick Chrismant. “I chose to come here because it was appealing to live on an island: it is a poetic idea. I like the valleys full of herbs, the landscape, the sunsets watched from on top of a cliff. This is the romantic idea to which I was enamoured. But Malta, like a coin, has two faces: the west and the east. The west is natural, almost virgin territory, while the east is densely populated. I lived in Sliema for some time and despite the view I could not stay there,” she sighs, shakes her head and adds: “The cranes and the continuous construction...”
Zebbug, where Catherine now lives is a different kettle of fish altogether. “I am happy to be here because apart from it being close to the ambassador I like this ancient village. I love the house, too even though, as with people, it’s difficult to say why you fall in love. The values which I treasure in this house are that it is protective (she points at the thick walls), clear (she looks at the whitewashed walls) and empty (I look at the bare walls).” After a reflective pause she tells me that the house feels ‘authentic’. “It’s a value I treasure also in people.” Apart from this she likes the fire place, the quirky stairs to the ‘tower’ and the thick arches. She also appreciates the immense antiquity of Maltese culture stretching back to at least 7000 years. “Some of the Maltese do not seem aware of this immeasurable privilege which needs to be preserved and shown off by all means. This is a big asset for Malta, which should be the great museum of the Mediterranean.”
We continue to talk of everything that is Maltese; of the Maltese character for example. But is there such a thing? “The Maltese are pleasant and helpful especially to foreigners,” she says appreciatively. I tell her that I often wonder whether our pleasantness to any foreigner sporting blue eyes and fair hair is just masked servility, a carry over from generations of British dominion. “Look at the way many Maltese treat any foreigner with North African features!” I say. Catherine goes on to tell me that she sees a ‘duality’ in Maltese character. “They are easy going and open minded in a one to one relationship but socially they are very conservative.” I ask her what she would change, if she could, in the Maltese. “Coleridge said that Malta is the noisiest place on earth……” she does not finish the sentence because it is at this instant that a neighbour decides to start playing noisy rap ‘music’. She winces and asks me whether I’d be kind enough to shout out across the courtyard and tell him to turn down the volume. I hesitate and she does it herself, but her shouting voice is softer than the average Maltese ‘talking’ voice and her protestations go unheeded.
She closes the window against the fresh air and the noise and talks to me of poetry. “I enjoy translating poetry and other works of literature. I revel in the transition, that no man’s land between two languages. I am passionate about the translation of the metaphor from one language to another. Its translation requires that you delve deeply in the mind of the writer.” All Catherine’s works have been published in books or journals. “Right now I am translating two plays by South African writers. One of them is Athol Fugard and the other is Denis Hirson, who is a friend of mine. His father was in jail for many years as he was against Apartheid.” She hands me one of the plays and as I read through a part I am reminded of some of the short stories by Salman Rushdie.
The writing is clear, economic and evocative of distant cultures. The music from next door ceases and Catherine tells me that she believes that frustration is one source of creativity and we talk of the tortured lives of many artists.
Our conversation turns back to her work at the embassy and she says that each time that she changes her post it is always a new job. “There is a huge range of issues in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. From scientific and cultural cooperation, to economic relationships and to political matters, which is the area that she concentrates on in Malta. “We report what is happening in Malta to the French foreign ministry. The recent EU elections were a very busy but interesting period for us,” she concludes.