BILLY CANTWELL, editor of Sydney's Irish Echo
What age were you when you left Ireland?Twenty-two. It was 1986/87, the height of the last wave of emigration. In those days, the Irish gravitated towards enclaves like Burwood in Sydney and occupations like construction and nursing.
You founded the 'Irish Echo' in 1988. What were some big early stories?U2. Euro 1988. The Enniskillen bombing. The North was a very difficult issue for us. There was a strong nationalist element within the Irish community and they were always trying to feed us stories. I remember AIB refusing to take out any more ads after we ran an ad for Australian Aid for Ireland.
That was an Australian counterpart to Noraid, I presume?It was, but it wasn't nearly as sophisticated. It was just a bunch of lugs in a pub singing rebel songs.
How has the profile of the average Irish immigrant evolved over the years?In the 1980s, most Irish were on working holiday visas and looking to overstay. By the early 2000s, there were suddenly engineers and architects arriving. I knew something had changed drastically when backpackers started talking about their property portfolios at home. Now things have come full circle. The main topic of conversation is once again how to overstay your visa.
Between myself and yourself, what's the best bet?Sponsorship is the buzzword. You get a second year, provided you go off and do three months regional work first: picking fruit or working in one of the mining areas. Of course, lots of Irish people try to circumvent the process by paying people off.
Paying off who? Civil servants?No, I mean paying off some farmer to say that you had spent months working on farms, when actually you've never left Bondi beach. It is an easy scam for the authorities to detect. The tax records don't match up and sooner or later you get found out and deported.
How many Irish citizens are there in Australia today?We estimate about a hundred thousand. But the numbers are rising: 22,000 Irish were granted working-holiday visas last year alone.
How does the mindset differ from 1986/87? Or does it differ at all?There is an expectation of a certain lifestyle, there's an expectation of a certain quality of life. The old attitude of "Well sure, it's good enough for the likes of us" no longer exists. Whether its jobs or accommodation or schools for their kids, if things aren't up to scratch, the Irish are not afraid to be vocal.
Are there still Irish enclaves?No. Bondi is supposedly the 33rd county. But once the backpackers have sown their wild oats there, they disappear into the suburbs. Today the Irish enclaves are all online: websites, Facebook groups. If there's an altar where this generation gather and give thanks, it's live Gaelic games on a Sunday night. They still go to church on the big occasions, too. On Christmas and Paddy's Day, the pews in the Irish church on Bondi are full of backpackers in their county jerseys.
What's the best thing about life in Australia?It's a meritocracy. No one cares where you come from or who your dad is. If you can do the job, you'll fit in. The head of Qantas, Alan Joyce, is a working class guy from Tallaght. The head of Intel for Australia and New Zealand is a guy called Philip Cronin from Ballyfermot.
And the worst? There are jokes occasionally. The opposition leader Tony Abbott told an Irish joke at his party conference this summer. The Irish embassy called him up on it and he offered a qualified apology.
What's our biggest misapprehension about Australia?There is that classic image of the laidback, laconic Aussie. In fact, Australians love rules and regulations. It's also a place that codifies everything. There are streets where you'll get a ticket if you don't park your car with your rear to the curb at a certain angle. They almost come along with a protractor.
And finally, what do they make of us?In the eastern suburbs of Sydney, they probably roll their eyes. Bondi is Ibiza Downunder for Irish backpackers. If someone is singing outside your door at 4am, they might very well be Irish. As a nation, we tend not to hide our light under a bushel. But that's not entirely a bad thing. As a parent, I coach my son's soccer team. I take them all over the city and it's amazing how often I'll hear an Irish accent on the opposition bench. There's a huge volunteer culture here. We're never shy about putting up our hands and Aussies really respect that.
