The Black Australian

Chapter 17 (Part II)

Painted faces

by Sunil GOVINNAGE

Unfortunately, a cyclone warning prevented Siri's visit to Cooktown, and the trip to the Great Barrier Reef was left unconfirmed, again due to bad weather conditions. On his second day in Cairns, Siri decided to see the Aboriginal dancing troupe he had heard of. He mentioned his interest in Aboriginal culture to the woman at the travel desk at the hotel, who handed him a brochure. It was the same brochure he had perused at the airport.

"Well, if you do visit the theatre, then you must take the sky rail to Kuranda. It's a trip you'll never forget. Aboriginal dancing is nothing more than a few black fellahs moving their half-naked bodies to the sound of didgeridoos. I'm sure you would have seen them in Perth!" said the receptionist with a sarcastic voice.

Siri stood outside and tried to decide whether to take a taxi or walk the three or four kilometres to the Aboriginal Cultural Park in the hope of burning off the heavy breakfast he had just eaten. The morning was humid with heavy clouds covering the heaven. Siri watched the black clouds emerging from nowhere and imagined them to be Aboriginal people coming together to shed tears over their plight in Australia.

Siri walked over to a taxi near the hotel and peered inside and saw a fat man sitting behind the wheel, enjoying an adult's magazine. Siri tapped politely on the passenger door and then pressed the tourist brochure up to the window. The driver gave Siri an unfriendly glance, held the magazine up and pointed to the naked woman on the cover. He then grinned and winked at Siri.

"A good looking Sheila! A real figure. Look at her!" He carefully placed the magazine in the glove box and then started the engine. Siri got into the car and looked out of the window instead. The clouds overhead left little room for any natural blue in the sky.

"So, where are you from?" asked the driver as they travelled along the Captain Cook Highway.

"Perth. I work there. I'm from Sri Lanka originally and my family is still there. I live here on my own." Siri didn't want to deal with the endless questions he had received from taxi drivers the world over.

"Oh, Shiri Lan-kaa! Good cricket champions with pocket-sized fellows like 'Kalu.' Terrific players. I liked the way they fought back against us in the World Cup. Clever, small fellows." Sending a piercing glance Siri's way, the driver declared, "You seem too big for a Shiri Lankan!"

"It's due to all the Aussie tucker I eat here: Weet-bix, Corn flakes and Vegemite ... all good Aussie tucker, Mate!" Siri shot back.

"Don't bull-dust me, Mate! You are what you eat. Bloody rice and curries! They're bloody hot for me. Plenty of that stuff is available in Australia now. We never had them when I was growing up. Now every bloody thing is available in Cairns. We even have bloody dengue fever! Had an attack myself, six months ago! My doctor says it comes from Asia and isn't going to leave Cairns. Bloody f.....ing disease! My joints still ache."

"Your doctor is right. Dengue Fever comes from Asia. That includes Australia. Don't you know that Australia is part of Asia, Mate! Cairns is the gateway to Asia. PNG is closer than Sydney." Siri pointed out innocently enough, but when he saw the anger stemming from the driver's fat face like a giant sea wave, he tactfully changed the subject.

"Mate, how much longer to this place?"

"Five minutes drive," replied the driver as he turned onto the main road to Port Douglas.

Siri spotted a group of Aboriginal people waiting to cross the road. He tested the driver:

"What do you think of the Aborigines?"

"Bloody useless people," the driver replied quickly. "They don't work but live on the dole! Take me for example, today I got up at six in the morning and I'll bet you, they'll still be sleeping when I finish my shift. Bloody Abos! You see them drunk around Cairns and hanging around like those black fellahs we passed. Useless people!"

Siri sighed and thought of John, the fisherman and his sympathies for the Aborigines.

"Did you read the paper yesterday?" the driver continued. "This woman has eight children and is getting f.....ing seven hundred and sixty five dollars a week! Work that out. That's nearly forty grand a year! That's the money you and I put in the bloody government coffers."

Siri realised that he had touched a sore spot of driver's psyche as his outburst showed no signs of abating.

"I had to pay for my entire house with a cent from the government, but this bloody woman gets forty thousand bloody dollars! Bloody bastards! Why do you want to see their bloody show? Bloody black bums with painted faces! I'll take you to a beaut spot where you can meet some great Queensland sheilas! A beaut spot! You can see and touch chicks like those in the magazines," he pointed to the adult magazine.

The car slowed down and stopped at the entrance to the Aboriginal Cultural Park. Without saying a word Siri got out of the car. As Siri paid his fare, the driver looked greedily into Siri's wallet and noticed fifty dollar notes that popped out when he pulled out a ten dollar note to pay.

"Changed your mind, Mate?"

Siri handed over the money and closed the door. Without looking at the taxi again, he walked into the open yard in front of the theatre. The dark clouds began to unburden themselves and a light rain added to the gloominess. He watched seagulls fly overhead, one of them seeking shelter nearby. The rain poured down harder. Siri ran for shelter.

As Siri watched the Aboriginal dancers, he couldn't help but think of the driver's attitude. His thoughts and the driver's words needled him throughout the show, highlighting and underscoring how foreign each was to the other. His mind wandered like the spotlights that followed the dancers and the rhythm of the didgeridoo. The sounds and their dance were alien to him. His headache returned like a fast-growing thorny cacti plant inside his skull.

After the show, Siri took the sky rail to Kuranda, situated on a hill. The clouds that had accompanied the rain prohibited a panoramic view of the area, as advertised in the brochure Siri carried. He cursed the weather.

After a brief stroll through the Kuranda village, which seemed akin to looking at the window display of a cheap ornament shop, he took an early shuttle bus back to the hotel. Siri's growing headache forced him to take a dose of pain killers and retire early.

The next day, Siri didn't feel better. He woke up with a severe headache and a sore throat. Nonetheless, he thought he could manage a trip to the reef, if the weather improves. After the breakfast, he telephoned John. A woman answered the phone.

"John's out, but he'll be back in a couple of hours. May I take a message?"

"Is this Jenny? Well, I'm Siri. John and I travelled together from Brisbane, two days ago."

"Yes, John has talked a lot about you! In fact, he was waiting for your call. He took the kids bowling. They should be back in about an hour. In fact, he's in town now. I'll ring him on his mobile and ask him to give you a call. What's your number there?"

Siri took another dose of pain killers and attempted to sleep. He was half-awake when the telephone rang.

"John here, Si-ri. How are you doing, Mate?"

"I'm okay, but I've had a headache since yesterday. It comes and goes like a bad memory. I'm okay now, but at any minute it might come back."

"Well, let's hope it's just a cold. May be a passing headache due to change of weather! It'll pass away," John assured him. "If you're feeling well enough, let's go to my place and you can meet Jenny and the kids. Have you got any other plans? I can pick you up in forty minutes. I'm only a block away from your hotel. Jenny would be delighted to meet you!"

Without a second thought, Siri agreed.

"Yes, it'll be a great honour."

"Jen, love, meet Si-ree, my friend from Perth."

"G'day! Very nice to meet you."

"Si-ree, I forgot to tell you that Jenny is in your line of work too. She's a computer programmer. She works for a company in town."

"That's good news. What do you do?" Siri enquired.

"Oh, nothing much, just some C programming work. It's a part-time job."

"What would you like to drink Si-ree?" John offered. "Jen, love, I'm going to cook some prawns, you talk to Si-ree. We'll feed him a good lot of Barrier Reef prawns! You can't buy these anywhere in Australia! Our Reef prawns end up in Hong Kong, Japan and the USA."

Over lunch, John was eager to satisfy his curiosity and asked Siri about Sri Lanka.

"Why do we only hear and read about the civil war in Sri Lanka, or about cricketers who chuck a fit when they come to play with us? We don't hear any good news about Sri Lanka at all."

"When was the last time you heard anything positive about any other Asian country? That's why we don't hear good news from Sri Lanka. Tell me, what do you want to know about my lost paradise?"

"The History and people. When did the British take over Sri Lanka?"

"It happened in 1815 but long before the British, other Western powers ruled some parts of the country. First, the Portuguese arrived in 1505 and ruled parts of the coastal areas. The Dutch came later, and in 1658 took over from the Portuguese. Finally, the British arrived. They captured Kandy, the hill capital and captured our last king by dividing the local leaders.

That's how they conquered the whole island. The hill country had never been ruled by foreign powers before. You must remember, the history of Sri Lanka does not begin in the 16th century.

It goes back to the fifth century BC! The Civil War is a recent development. It started in May 1983. The British left us in 1948, and Sri Lanka became an independent nation.

The local politicians took over from the British. Unfortunately, like all other politicians, our fellows didn't have a long-term vision, and so kept the system the British had left us with. It worked well for a British colony, but not for a small, independent island nation with several ethnic groups."

Despite Siri's nagging headache, he gave an account of the history and the causes of the civil war. Siri ended by giving John a few contacts, just in case he wanted to visit the country with his American friend the following year.

When Siri asked for a glass of water to take another dose of pain killers, John asked worriedly, "do you have pain in your joints? There's a bad bout of dengue fever up here. You'd better be careful. If you're not feeling well, get a medical certificate. You might be able to claim from your travel insurance for your unfinished part of the trip. If you come back during the fishing season, though, I'll take you out to the Reef."

"John, do you have an e-mail address? It's the easiest way to keep in touch."

"Jen, love what's your e-mail address? She's the guru. She prints all my e-mails for me."

John dropped Siri back at the hotel and advised him against visiting the Reef now that cyclone warnings were coming in over the radio. As to his headache, John recommended a doctor in town.

Doctor Rob Brown inquired whether Siri had visited the far northern regions of Queensland. "We've a very serious strain of dengue. You may be immune because you have dengue in Perth too." Siri just smiled without correcting the doctor.

"It doesn't look like dengue, but we must do a blood test to rule it out. When are you going back to Perth? It would be better to get it done there. The results may take forty-eight hours. The normal incubation period for this disease is roughly about seven days, so it's very unlikely that you have dengue fever now. But, there are always exceptions." Doctor Brown spoke with a heavy Scottish accent.

On his way back to the hotel, Siri seethed at the travel agent's failure to inform him of the dengue fever outbreak in Cairns. He didn't want to end up complaining of joint pain like the fat taxi driver, or adopt the same attitudes, especially towards the Aborigines.

Back in his room, Siri dialled the 1-800 number for the Queensland Travel Centre and cancelled his fishing trip and his day trip to the Great Barrier Reef. The news about the impending cyclone frightened Siri. He rang the Qantas office and booked a seat on the earliest flight out of Cairns.

Siri was glad of the opportunity of leaving Cairns early avoiding an looming cyclone. When a feeling of safety and sense of security settled in his heart, he thought of John, Jenny and her kids who might be the victims of a natural disaster.

The plane took off, leaving the popular tourist destination behind. Siri had a final glimpse of the city falling away beneath him, and of the Reef, to remember them until his next visit to Queensland. The swarming clouds that had been gathering steadily since the day before blocked his view. He was pleased to leave Cairns and avoid the cyclone. Siri thought of John, Jenny and the kids again. They were the only friends he made in that city. He also thought of the crazy taxi driver reading adult magazines and the rhythms of the Aboriginal dancers whom he couldn't fully understand.

Nearly two hours later, the plane landed in Uluru-Ayer's Rock. Outside, the heat was intense and the sky carried radiant blue unlike the cloudy sky of the city he left behind. Siri disembarked and followed a few foreigners looking for souvenirs in the dingy airport shop.

After another spell, the plane landed in sunny Perth. Siri slowly made his way to the luggage carousel and waited for his bags. Whenever someone exited or entered the area through the automatic glass doors, the hot Perth summer air rushed in reminding Siri that he had come back home to his familiar environment. Thinking back on the bad weather in Cairns and the headaches, he shook his head.

- What a difference in weather pattern in this country?

Although it was half past four in the afternoon, several clouds overhead had brought with them a subdued and sombre light. Siri wondered if the cyclone had followed him home, like the memories he now had of his journeys to the east.

A handful of people occupied the arrival lounge, waiting for relatives, friends or loved ones. Siri walked by a young woman passionately embracing her partner. Self-pity washed over him.

- How nice it would be, if there is someone to pick me up from the airport.

Luggage in hand, he crossed the car park and walked to where he had parked his car nearly two weeks ago.

He smiled when he saw his brand new sports car sitting there waiting for him, like a friend or partner he had left behind. Turning the car towards the city, Siri drove home to take refuge in his home where a lonely bed awaited him.

(For feedback and readers' response:

[email protected])

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.