The Black Australian : Chapter 3 :

Home and away

By Sunil GOVINNAGE

"A solitary journey

Crossing the Mute Ocean

Without any footsteps

Along the way.

Home again

Carrying my enchanted memories

Faded into the Swan River"

It was a cold night in Amsterdam. Europe had been spared a harsh winter that year, yet Siri felt a numbness which came with the wind. It pierced through his dark brown skin like a sharp, steel knife. He adjusted his Akubra hat [1] and the overcoat given to him by his friend Sam, who lived in Ohio.

Siri had worked with Sam in the early 1980s, back in Sri Lanka at the Arthur C. Clarke Centre, near Colombo. Now, Sam taught Science and Technology Policy in a Mid-Western University in the USA. As he reflected on Sam's progress, Siri thought less of his own achievements in Australia.

When Sam had given him the overcoat, he had said: "You'd better keep it. The weather in Holland is going to be nasty in January. I was there last winter, on my way back from Vienna, and it was very cold then. According to weather reports, the situation will be worst this year."

Sam had assumed that Siri was reluctant to accept his overcoat.

"You can leave it with my Dad in Colombo . Buy him a good bottle of duty-free whisky. It's cheaper than buying a new overcoat."

- Sam is a typical American! Very direct and to the point. He's no longer a Sri Lankan!

That was a few days ago.

Now, Siri was alone in Amsterdam . He was fully prepared for a good night out. The overcoat protected him well. He looked at the map; it seemed as if all the roads in Amsterdam were going around in circles! He studied the map again and then looked at his watch. His Dutch friend, Rudie Labadi, must be waiting for him at the Groningen Cafe, somewhere in the middle of the city.

Siri had met Rudie twelve years ago, when a Dutch team visited Sri Lanka to discuss strategies for the alleviation of poverty in Third World countries.

Rudie's speciality was technology transfer, which he taught at a University in Delft. The two men had become friendly and kept in touch through letters, and later, via e-mail a few years after Siri had moved to Australia . When Siri last spoke to Rudie over the phone, the Dutchman had mentioned that the caf was in the middle of the city.

"Any taxi will take you there for ten guilders," Rudie had emphasised.

Siri gave the address to the taxi driver, who looked at him and smiled menacingly but he was not sure what that Dutch smile meant.

"Are you from India ?" the driver asked in English, heavily laden with a Dutch accent.

The usual question!

Siri was not ready to respond.

- Should I say that I'm from Australia , and that I was born in Sri Lanka , but now I'm living in Western Australia ? Why bother?

It was the universal question Siri had to answer everywhere, all the time. Siri was used to it now, particularly in Australia where strangers, black and white, always asked him that question.

He recalled some of his Australian encounters. It seemed that whatever he did to be an Australian, it always produced the opposite result. Take last year for instance, when he was travelling to Melbourne at the height of the footy [2] season. To show his allegiance to the West Coast Eagles, [3] Siri was wearing the team's beanie and a scarf. Seeing this, a group of young fellows at Melbourne Airport remarked sarcastically, "I didn't know the Eagles had supporters in India as well!" Seeing them snickering, Siri thought he would have some fun at their expense. He replied, "Well mate, I'm from Perth and Chris Lewis [4] is my brother!"

The fellows were speechless and just left him alone. That was a year ago. This was a different encounter, in a different country, and this time with a Dutch taxi driver.

He is innocent of malice

The taxi slowed down and entered a street near Siri's destination. He got out on the corner of a busy street reserved for cyclists.

What a difference! We don't have exclusive bicycle lanes like this in Australia !

"If you go straight ahead, you'll find the Groningen Cafe. But if you want to go to the Red Light District, give me five more guilders and I'll take you to a good spot."

Again that heavy Dutch accent!

"Dank-u-wel" [5] was all Siri said in response.

Adjusting his overcoat, Siri started walking down a deserted alley. Three drunken men were making their way towards him. Siri was glad that he had left the wallet and his Australian passport at the hotel. He passed the drunken men without incident and continued silently, looking for the name of the cafe where he was to meet Rudie. He tried to recall Rudie's face and their last meeting in Sri Lanka. Like so many Sri Lankan memories, it was a fading image.

Warm air welcomed Siri as he opened the door of the cafe. He removed his overcoat and the hat hung them on the rack provided. Looking around, he saw a few people spread out across the room. The cafe was dimly lit, but there was a fire burning in a large hearth. Siri checked the time: 7:05 pm. His friend would be there in 25 minutes.

Walking up to the bar, Siri ordered: "A beer please."

"Do you want a Dutch beer, or something else? We don't drink that much beer in winter, but we've good spirits," the barman informed him. Tall and chubby the barman was sporting a big moustache, which reminded Siri of Australian Merv Hughes. [6]

"Heineken beer for me, thanks."

The barman poured him a beer and then tended to the fire. Siri sipped the beer and immediately felt the cold penetrated through his teeth, which only had a thin layer of enamel left.

"Are you from India ? What are you doing here?"

Now the barman! The usual entry point to another meaningless conversation!

Siri felt irritable. He wasn't sure if it was due to selecting the wrong brew or the tone of the question. He looked in the mirror hanging behind the bar and combed a few hairs to cover his bald patch. How does one differentiate an Indian from a Sri Lankan? Or for that matter an Australian Aborigine from a dark Asian?

"No, I'm from Australia ," Siri remarked casually. The barman looked up at him with piercing eyes.

"Oh! Are you a Black Australian? What a privilege! I've never met one before. I saw that movie 'Crocodile Something,' "the barman said excitedly.

Siri knew the Dutchman was referring to the film 'Crocodile Dundee' - a light comedy, set in the Australian outback, and produced by an Australian actor.

"Oh, a Black Australian! Umm ... I've met plenty of White Australians. Some of them are regulars; they visit here from the Red Light District."

For the last seven years, in Australia and in his travels, no one had accepted him as an Australian.

This is an honour. I'm a Black Australian! You need not be an Aboriginal to call yourself a Black Australian. The Aborigines must be called Native Australians, not Black Australians!

"Let's have a drink to our new friendship." The barman's voice tore Siri from his thoughts. "This is one of our best drinks, fine Dutch whisky. So, what are you doing in Amsterdam ?"

"Just travelling through," Siri replied casually.

When Rudie comes, everything will be revealed!

Siri was reluctant to tell the barman that he was waiting for a Dutch friend he met in Sri Lanka .

I've already told him that I'm a Black Australian. At least someone in the middle of Amsterdam has accepted me as a real Australian. I can't go back on it now. But when Rudie comes the barman will come to know the truth. What if I leave early? Then Rudie will ask for me! The lie will be revealed! How can I solve this problem...?

"Is there a pay phone here?" Siri asked. The barman pointed to a telephone near the entrance. Rushing to the phone, Siri dialled Rudie's number. Siri did not tell his friend that he was already in the caf where they agreed to meet.

"I'll meet you on my way back from Limburg . I'll come one day early and see you at Delft , then I can visit your university as well," Siri indicated his desire to meet Rudie later.

"Well...I also wanted to cancel our meeting, but I wasn't sure where to contact you."

Rudie's voice came clearly through the receiver. "I've a bad cold and it is better for me to rest tonight." Rudie continued, "I won't be at the university next week either..."

Siri was not sure why Rudie was not keen to see him.

Why is he not interested in meeting me? Is it due to a bad cold, or because now I don't know much about Sri Lanka ?

Either way, Siri was pleased to learn that Rudie was not meeting him that evening. When Siri rejoined the barman, the grinning fellow turned to another Dutchman and said, "Meet my friend from Australia !"

The Australian shook hands with the stranger. Siri saw his image in the mirror behind the bar. He saw himself as if he was receiving a thick make-up. Still, Siri knew that his cover was good, just like the overcoat he had borrowed from his friend.

The fire was burning heavily in the hearth. The bar was warming up. It was going to be a long night.

Siri returned to his hotel, around two in the morning. He was not sure how long his act as a Black Australian had been successful. He remembered drinking strong Dutch whisky glass after another. In fact, before his body was fully saturated with alcohol, he had thought his soul was drunk. The barman had rung a couple of friends who lived nearby, and they all came to meet Siri; a Black Australian. Among the people who joined the growing group at the bar was a Dutch woman, a young blonde who had accompanied an old friend of the barman's. The man's name was Loek. Siri couldn't remember the girl's name. But he did remember dancing with her but he could not recall how it all ended. He had a fuzzy memory that the barman helping him into a taxi before he collapsed just after midnight. He remembered getting into a place suggested by the taxi driver. The sequence of events came in waves, and then evaporated like images in a steamy bathroom mirror.

Siri had a headache. It was approaching midday and he realised that it was too late to attend the morning session of the conference that he was scheduled to participate in.

- Who cares? No one in my Perth office will know whether or not I attended the conference. I only need to write a brief report to justify leave they granted. So what?

In the two busy days Siri had left, he couldn't find another opportunity to re-stage his Black Australian act in Amsterdam.

Although Siri stayed less than a week in Amsterdam he had to re-arrange his baggage to allow more room for the presents he purchased for his relatives and friends in Sri Lanka. To make more space, Siri discarded unnecessary items, including several thick folders he had received at the Amsterdam conference. While re-packing, Siri looked at the Weet-Bix box, his favourite breakfast, which he carried all the way from Australia. He was not sure whether it would serve any purpose in Sri Lanka, but he wanted to share a sample of good Aussie food with his mother.

- If Amma to come and live with me, she should get used to Aussie food!

In amongst his clothes, Siri found three thousand Rupees left over from his last visit to Sri Lanka. He looked at them in a manner similar to Robinson Crusoe's encounter with the gold coins that he discovered accidentally. However, Siri kept the money in his hand luggage.

Siri arrived at the Schiphol Airport early to start the last leg of his journey home; Perth via Colombo. There was no urgent need for him to visit his relatives in Sri Lanka. His mother and one of the two sisters lived in Wehera, Kurunegala, the capital of the Wayamba Province. Now, these are far off places in a different world for him. One of his nephews - a great believer in the dream of once again reuniting Sri Lanka under a great Sinhalese leader - was a bit of a worry for him. Another nephew wanted Siri to sponsor him, so that he could study in Australia and a niece wanted a dress from Australia. The list was endless. Mentally counting the people for whom he needed to buy presents for, Siri entered a duty-free shop at the airport.

A few hours later, weighed down with two heavy shopping bags, Siri dragged himself into an economy class seat on the Royal Dutch airliner. As the no-smoking sign flicked off, Siri smelt cigarette smoke coming from the seat directly behind him. He had been placed in the last row of the non-smoking zone. When he couldn't breathe the air any longer, a very irate Siri pressed the service button and yelled at the stewardess when she arrived. He belonged to an Australian Frequent Flyer Club to which the Royal Dutch Airlines was affiliated. Eager to avoid further embarrassment, the flight attendant offered Siri a seat in Business Class. He rushed to his new found class like a bird escaping from a bush fire.

Siri sat down next to a short, fat, white man who was engrossed in reading a travel guide on Sri Lanka. Siri looked over and noticed several other strange texts on his lap: A Discursive Report - A Situation Analysis of the Civil War, An Anthropological Analysis of the Civil War in Sri Lanka. Some of them carried a label marked CLASSIFIED. He could not take his eyes off of them.

- Who's this man?

When the white fellow looked up from his reading, Siri greeted him: "G'day."

The man responded with a puzzled look.

"So, what are you going to do in Colombo ? You must be a rich businessman from...?" The fat, white fellow did not finish his sentence. Siri waited a moment and then replied, "Well, I was born in Sri Lanka, but now I'm an Australian citizen living in Perth."

"Is that so? You are an Australian citizen, a man from down under! Well, I'm a citizen of the United States of America." Siri heard the sarcasm in that fat American voice.

"So, what are you going to do in Colombo ?" Siri started the interrogation this time.

"I've been awarded a short-term consultancy from the World Bank. I'm an engineer, but this assignment is a bit different. I need to evaluate an aid package from the World Bank. It's different to the work I normally do, but I couldn't refuse the offer from an old buddy who runs the Asian Program in the Washington office. We were at university together."

- Sounds familiar!

Siri had worked with a few 'American experts' in Sri Lanka before. He remembered the Victoria Dam Project, where he worked as a trainee engineer, along side many expatriate workers who had no academic qualifications, or any other experience to work in Sri Lanka.

- The situation hasn't changed much over the last fifteen to twenty years.

Westerners still try to control the country!

Siri thought of his own attempts to return as an overseas consultant, applying through the Australian Aid Bureau. As yet, the bureau still had not responded to his application.

- I must find some contacts in Canberra, just like this American fellow who has buddies in the World Bank, but I don't have mates in Canberra !

A feeling of helplessness grew inside his chest.

"So, what are you thinking? Are you afraid that I'll be killed by Tamil terrorists? No problems Buddy! My friends have contacts with the Tigers in Washington ; I've got clearance and full support! I won't be a dead man in Sri Lanka !"

Siri did not bother to reply. The alcohol served by the flight attendant kept their conversation to a minimum, and they slept most of the flight. As the plane started its descent to Katunayake Airport, Siri opened his eyes and looked at his watch. He was still on European time. He checked the American's watch and saw a different time.

- That must be Washington time!

Shortly afterwards, the Captain announced the time and weather details. Siri adjusted his time.

The American was sleeping. Siri did not wake up his travelling companion even to say good-bye.

Sunil Govinnage(c)

Footnotes:

1. Akubra Hat - A famous Australian brand of a cowboy hat.

2. Footy - The word is used to denote Australian-rules (Aussie rules) football; a uniquely Australian game where players use both their hands and feet to move an oval-shaped ball forward. Aussie rules footy is different to Rugby and Soccer.

3. West Coast Eagles - An Australian-rules football team based in Perth , Western Australia.

4. Chris Lewis - An Australian rules footballer who played over 200 senior games for the West Coast Eagles. Chris is an Indigenous Australian.

5. Dank u wel - The Dutch phrase for "thank you".

6. Merv Hughes - A former Australian cricketer. He represented Australia between 1985 and 1994 in 53 Test matches.

7. Amma - The Sinhala word for mother.