The Black Australian Chapter - 5:

Returnig home

By Sunil GOVINNAGE

Waking up at 10 o'clock, Siri mentally calculated the time in Perth; it was still only 7:30 am in Western Australia. He felt hungry as his eyes scanned the room, looking over at unopened gifts and the clothes in his half-open travel bags. Siri read the incomplete poem he wrote last night, which reminded him of the many things he had not completed in his life. Finally, Siri spied the Weet-Bix box he had carried all the way around the world. It was sitting on a table in the corner, where only antiques and unused items were kept. He picked up the box and left the room. Upon opening the door, the palatable aroma of food cooking in the kussiya [1] filled his nose.

Siri left the Weet-Bix box on the dining room table, unopened. He washed quickly and returned to find Indi-appa [2] and kiri-hodi [3] on the table. A servant brought a sini-sambol with cut chillies and dried fish.

The Weet-Bix box sat there like a stranger, innocently awaiting entry into another culture, waiting to be part of an exotic place where people celebrated different cuisines.

Siri's mother came and sat at the table with him, but ate nothing.

"Amma, why don't you eat?"

"I ate early in the morning. I get really hungry early in the morning as I don't eat rice for dinner. My blood pressure is on the high side. Doctor Ananda advised me to avoid heavy meals at night. What's in this, *putha?" Siri's mother pointed to the Weet-Bix box.

"This is my breakfast in Australia. I brought a packet to share with you. It's very good, and made from pure organic wheat grown in Australia. I got used to it when I first went there as a teenager. Try a bit. I normally mix it with milk and eat a banana or two with it. It's healthy, easy to prepare and very cheap!"

Siri opened the box and served his mother two Weet-Bix biscuits. She used her fingers to break one and nibbled it. Siri soaked his Weet-Bix with kiri-hodi and ate it. Siri's mother tried it plain. Siri observed the changes in her face. She could not swallow the Australian breakfast. She got up and rushed from the room, returning a few minutes later. Her face told the story of the Weet-Bix; she had vomited. Pausing momentarily, she then exclaimed, "What's this? It tastes like straw! Did I hear you correctly, that you eat this stuff everyday? People in Australia must have mouths like cows! How do you eat this?"

Siri did not utter a word. He had a third helping of indi-appa and kiri-hodi, served by the servant boy, and topped it up with several Weet-Bix biscuits soaked with his local favourites.

"I'm going to Kurunegala. I've to meet Jayasuriya, the Chief Engineer. He wanted some advice about immigration to Australia. I also want to meet a few friends. Is Udara still working at the kachcheriya [4] since his return from the Philippines? I want to find out whether he has published any poetry books recently."

The journey back to Kurunegala was a brief one. As Siri entered the city, he saw the three rocks-Athugala, Andagala and Ibbagala - which derived their names from their very appearance, welcoming him back home again. In the past, the rocks had provided much needed protection for the city and its inhabitants from attacks by successive enemies.

Siri returned after meeting his former work-mates and friends to find a large gathering of villagers and relatives, who had come to welcome him. From the people's attitude and behaviour, Siri felt as if he were an astronaut who had come back from a trip in outer space. The following day, he returned to Kurunegala with his mother. After dropping her off at her doctor's clinic, he went to visit his friend, the Chief Executive Engineer, again. At university, he had been two years Siri's junior, but with rapid promotions he now headed all the engineering projects for the region. Siri had held this position long before he moved to Australia, and remembered fondly the work, power and prestige the job offered. Siri left his friend's office. He had learned that Udeni had recently married and had not pursued his literary career since.

The following day, Siri started re-packing. He organised the remaining gifts and sweets for his other sister, who lived with her family in Ratmalana, near Colombo. Moving onto the hand luggage, Siri remembered that the overcoat he had borrowed from Sam was still packed inside. He removed it and found it still partially wet. Siri went outside and hung it on the vela.

[5] His mother looked on and asked, "What is this putha? It's like a suit that magicians wear. It's not a raincoat, but from the inside it looks like a raincoat."

"It's an overcoat."

"What's the use of it?"

"This is to protect oneself from the extreme cold and snow. I borrowed it from Sam in the U.S.A. Do you remember him? He once came here. I used to work with him at the Arthur Clarke Center. Maybe I'll have to get it dry cleaned in Colombo before I return it."

"Why did you borrow that? If you need to wear them in Australia, you should have bought a new one."

"No, Mother, this is for snow. There's no snow in Perth at any time of the year. So, we don't need this type of gear in Perth. It's a very hot city. I've to return this to Sam's father in Mount Lavinia."

When Siri returned to the front veranda, there were a few more visitors who had come to greet him. Siri spied one amongst them he did not like. He was the kapu mahattya, the marriage matchmaker of the village. This kapu mahattaya had done his best to arrange several marriage proposals for Siri in the past. When Siri approached, he looked up from reading Dinamina newspaper.

"Oh, Sir! We got the message that you had arrived. Still a bachelor, aren't you? I'll do my best to help you out, Sir! Loku nona [6] is not happy as she's keen to have a munupura [7] from you! Sometimes a few people still bad mouth you in this village, saying that you have married a sudu-nona [8] from Australia."

"Is that so?" Siri countered. "I didn't realise that Reuters News had a special service in this village. Yes, in fact, when I return there next week, I'm getting married. I may also get a dowry! I got our horoscope checked also without your help. I'm getting married to a white woman because I couldn't get along with a black woman!" Siri said sarcastically.

Kapu mahattaya saw Siri's rage and moved cautiously to the mada - midula [9] where he waited for further instructions from Siri's mother. When Siri's mother realised her son was angry, she sent kapu mahattaya* away, as it was not the appropriate time to talk to him about another marriage proposal. She joined Siri on the front veranda, where he was reading the paper.

"Why are you wasting your life for that ingineru gani [10] who is now living happily in America? Don't I get the privilege of seeing a munupura from you before I die?" Siri's mother queried sadly.

"I've to go to Colombo in a day or two. I'll stay at Ratmalana and then go to Australia from there. I've to arrange for you to get the medical reports for your Australian Visa." Siri changed the unpleasant subject tactfully.

"Aney puthey! [11] She was not happy with Siri's invitation. "Who will look after all these properties when I go? I can't go and live in another country. This is where I want to die. Who else will offer dana [12] for your father then?" This is my village. My place!"

"There's a Buddhist temple in Perth. In fact, there are two. A lot of people offer dana there."

"What can I do in those far off countries? I'll die one day soon, and I should be buried at home next to your father in this village cemetery, and not anywhere else. Still there are a few things to be done before I pass away. We must find someone for you to marry. If you could stay here for a few more days, kapu mahattaya can make arrangements for us to see a nice girl for you. I've already visited the family last month and met the parents. You have a perfect horoscope match!"

"I'm too old to get married now."

"36 years is no age for a man, putha!"

Early the following day, Siri left early for Colombo. He travelled by bus and reached his sister's place in the afternoon. She was married to a Member of Parliament who represented an electorate in the Southern Province, but who owned a house in Ratmalana, nonetheless. That same day, Siri went downtown and made arrangements to leave a few days earlier than planned. The next day, he hired a car and drove to Colombo after the rush hour traffic had subsided. Turning into Thimbirigasyaya, where his old office was located, Siri was reminded of the humidity. Driving along Siripa Lane, he journeyed with the feeling he had entered a sacred place from his previous life. As a teenager he had walked the same route while studying at Issipathana College in Havelock Town. The narrow lane had gnarled and was covered with brown dust. There were more cars and cyclists than Siri remembered, but he managed to move around them without incident.

Siri turned into Issipathana Mawatha and parked his car near the temple. He walked to his old school. It had grown older too. Some of the walls had green moss as a result of rain water leaking through the old gutters. His eyes sought out the bright white school building that he used to admire after coming to Colombo. Siri closed his eyes and tried to conjure up his memories of the school. Of many friends, he could only recall a few faces, one of those belonged to his close friend Anura Jayasinghe, who had migrated to Australia from Canada.

What a long journey for him!

He went round to the primary school and visited the Abeysekara Playground, where he had practised his cricket and soccer. The grounds, which had once been maintained by the curator of the nearby BRC Cricket Club, now seemed unkept, as the cricket pitch was obscured by overgrown grass.

Siri drove to Moratuwa, the suburb to which his old office had relocated. He parked in the visitor's area and entered the building. There was a new receptionist and she asked for his citizen identity card. When Siri explained that he did not have one, the woman stared at him as if he were from another planet. Siri showed his Australian passport instead. Those who knew him secretly said, "Oh, the Australian sudda [13] has returned!"

His former assistant, Upali Amarasinghe, had since progressed up the ranks.

Siri waited for a few minutes outside Upali's office, which sported a large sign:

Senior Deputy Director, Business Feasibility Unit

Siri noted that his office in Perth was less than half the size of his former assistant's office.

Upali was working on an old IBM personal computer which had not been available for officers when Siri had worked at the office. Siri was the only person who had used an early version of the first generation Apple computer.

Siri slowly approached Upali and surprised him. Unconsciously Siri said, "G'day" and continued, "How are you, Mister Deputy Director? You've got a big office, but an old computer! Throw it out of the window!"

"Hello Siri, Ayubowan!" [14]

"This is a new addition from our World Bank project. I was told that this is the latest technology. Is it true?" Upali switched to Sinhala.

"Do you still believe those foreign consultants? Don't accept any other PC, unless it's a Pentium 133 with at least 32 mega bytes of RAM."

"I don't know about RAM or Pentium, but you've got an accent, Siri!" Upali's comment sent shock waves through Siri.

"What accent?" Siri replied in Sinhala.

"Even when you speak in Sinhala, you have an accent! You speak like that Sinhalese - American Professor Amarajiva, the officer in charge of new telecom technology projects, who was here recently. He didn't like Sri Lankan work culture; didn't like the local staff. I don't know whether you also have the same disease!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who's this Professor Amarajiva? Never heard of him. I only carry an Australian passport because it makes my international travel easier."

"Is that the only reason you migrated to Australia? We heard a rumour that you got married to a Tamil lady there! So you wanted to unite our ethnic groups and have hybrid kids, eh?" Upali declared sarcastically.

"No wonder it didn't last!"

"Who told you that?"

"Look, Siri, wherever a Sri Lankan lives, we get information. I still don't know how to use the Internet, but we get local and international news!"

Siri did not bother to respond. Instead, he looked out the window and saw two young children playing in a house nearby.

If I could go back to that age again, I'd make many changes to my life.

Perhaps stay behind and try to save the country like my nephew, Jagath!

Upali assumed that he had hurt Siri's feelings by bringing up the subject of his failed marriage.

"I'm sorry." Upali apologised and changed topics. "You apparently have acquired an Australian accent. It's true. We'll have some tea to wash it down your throat!" Upali rang the bell and an office worker appeared like the genie of Aladdin's lamp.

"Bring some tea. Make sure you bring it in the new tea set we use for foreign dignitaries!" Upali ordered, and winked at Siri. "I normally use this tea set for our white visitors. I think you have become one of them now!"

"Yes, that's the only thing missing in order for me to become a perfect Aussie," Siri replied woodenly.

After meeting Upali, Siri headed towards Sam's father's house in Mount. Lavinia, the next suburb over. When Siri returned the overcoat, he apologised for not getting it dry-cleaned.

"That's okay putha, we've two overcoats now. We can't use them here. When Sam comes over next year, he may take them back. How's my son doing?"

"Sam is very happy. He has written two books on technology policy and is doing very well. In fact, he has achieved more than I've in Australia. Australia is a bit of a racist country. It's not easy to reach the top, if you are not one of them!"

"I thought there's more than just a bit of racism in Australia.

We saw a BBC TV program that showed how they have destroyed the native Australians, the Aborigines."

"Well, this is not the time to talk about a painful subject," Siri changed track.

"Let's have some tea. Come, I'll show you a gadget. Here's my new computer; I use it to surf the web! Sam and the kids send me e-mails.

Although my telephone bill is sky rocketing, it's worth having. This is really a fascinating tool. There are no post offices or customs people. Only thing missing is not having real stamps to collect!"

That evening Siri arrived at Katunayake Airport earlier than he had planned.

After checking in, two hours ahead of time, Siri felt relieved that his hand luggage was lighter. It now contained only a couple of Sinhala videos, audio cassettes and a few Sinhala novels and poetry books. He boarded the AirLanka plane and felt uncomfortable thinking of the possibility of sabotage by terrorists. It had happened once before on an out-bound flight, a year after Siri had left for Australia. As it was, Siri slept the whole journey to Singapore, whereupon he changed planes and boarded a Qantas jet returning to Perth.

The Qantas plane started its descent to Perth just after midnight. Siri attempted to glimpse his new home from the plane's window. Crawley, the suburb in which he lived, ran to the banks of the Swan River. As the plane circled round, Siri saw the river stretched out like a giant snake, leading nowhere.

The immigration officer at the Perth International Airport looked at Siri's disembarkation card as if he was trying to locate something he had lost in someone else's backyard.

"Did you fill in this form yourself?" the officer asked with an authoritative voice.

"Yes!"

"Did you read and understand the form?"

Siri felt angry but he calmed himself and replied: "Yes, of course! I must tell you though, I didn't understand the form, but rather all the sentences printed on it!" He emphasised a logical point to annoy the officer.

"You haven't declared anything: no food, no agricultural products or processed foods, etcetera. That correct?"

"Yes, officer, you are right! I don't have anything to declare."

"Go to the red line, please!"

"What for? I don't have anything to declare!"

"This is a random check. If your declaration is correct, there's nothing to worry about, Sir!"

The officer looked over Siri's shoulder and invited the person at the head of the queue to step forward, avoiding a verbal encounter with the Black Australian.

Siri heard the officer greet the next passenger, a white young woman, with extra polite superlatives.

Siri's anger was as high as Akasa Kadé [15] but he calmed himself and went to the exit lane marked Red.

The customs officer looked at Siri's Australian passport carefully, then the customs declaration.

He repeated the same questions.

"I've already answered those questions! Yes, I did fill the form in and I do understand English, though it's not my first language!"

"Did you pack this bag yourself?"

"Yes!"

"Would you please open this bag for me? Please keep your suitcase here," the officer pointed to another carousel.

Siri opened his hand luggage without uttering a word and started unpacking his clothes. He then opened his suit bag.

"Oh, that will do. Thank you. What do you do here?"

"I live here. Perth is my home!"

"I meant work-wise."

"I'm an Engineer, and work for..." Siri mentioned the name of his company.

"This is a routine check we carry out at random. If you have brought in anything that has not been declared, such as food items or agricultural products, there will be a fine! Do you understand?"

"That's fine," Siri answered calmly.

"Have you brought any tea from Sri Lanka?" the officer asked as he read Siri's disembarkation card again.

"Why should I bring tea?"

"Well, we know that a lot of Sri Lankans bring tea with them!" the officer responded.

"I'm not a Sri Lankan. I'm an Australian! A Black Australian, and I drink beer. When I want to drink good tea, I buy it from Victoria Park! I travel lightly," Siri responded with an angry voice. The officer systematically went through Siri's travel bag. He examined each item as if he were a forensic expert gathering evidence for a criminal investigation. He examined all the Sinhala videos in Siri's hand luggage and asked another officer to play them back on a VCR in an inner room. The officer who took the videos brought them back ten minutes later, nodded his head and said: "All cleared!"

Siri felt very angry. He asked the officer if they understood the Sinhala language.

"No, but we only look for offensive material, the pornographic stuff, so we don't need to understand the language."

"Oh, I get the point! I normally order all my R rated videos from Canberra, or borrow them from a video shop in Nedlands. These three videos are from Sri Lanka.

They are not crappy R rated stuff. These videos are based on novels by Martin Wickramasinghe. He had written more novels than Peter Carey!"

"Who's Peter Carey?" the officer asked, as if Siri was referring to a stranger.

"Oh, I thought every Australian knew one of their famous authors! Never mind," Siri fought back in his usual manner.

"Why don't you play these audio cassettes too? You can keep them and return them to this address."

Siri handed his business card to the customs officials. He then looked at the officer's name tag and scribbled it down on a piece of paper.

When the officer saw Siri writing down his name, the officer repeated, "This is only a routine random check. It's not a question of whether or not we believe your customs declaration."

"Then why did you question whether I brought tea and all that?"

"They are standard questions, Sir."

"So, do you ask every traveler selected for this 'random check' about tea?"

"They are standard questions. We are very strict about people bringing any agricultural products into Australia."

"Had our Aboriginal mates checked the First Fleet and quarantined what they brought into this country, ours would have been a better place today! That's really not the point. How come I get selected for random checks every time I come into this bloody country?" Siri retorted bitterly.

The customs officer looked at Siri with a blank expression and did not respond. Siri zipped his bag shut, swung the bag over one shoulder, adjusted his Akubra hat, and left the carousel and the customs area feeling like a soldier returning from a battle.

The cold breeze of the early morning embraced Siri like a relative welcoming another after a long absence. Siri sighed deeply and attempted to get himself familiarise with Perth sky. The cool breeze crawled over and embraced Siri again while he waited for a taxi.

Siri woke up just after 8:30 the following morning. He went to the balcony and surveyed the Swan River and Perth skyline to get used to the landmarks again, and to refresh his memories of the city. In the middle of the river was a passenger ferry heading towards Fremantle. Siri read the side of the boat:

Captain Cook Cruises, Fast Ferries to Rottnest

Every bloody thing in this country is about their white history. What has Captain Cook got to do with fast ferries to Rottnest? He never even visited Western Australia! Anyway, what's the need to ride fast to Rottnest?

Siri felt as if he was Sinbad the Sailor who had arrived in a strange country. He went inside the house and plugged the kettle in.

He closed his eyes and thought about the journeys he had just completed a few hours ago. He remembered his visit to the USA, meeting his old friend Sam in Ohio and the brief stay in Washington, DC. He recalled his strange trip to Amsterdam, the Black Australian act, and visiting home. Also, there were other journeys to Kurunegala and Colombo. Finally, the harassment at Perth Airport, which was still haunting him like a nightmare. Siri thought of his office and the work he had to commence in three days. He thought about the dark office room with no windows that was allocated to him after Daryl Cook left the company. He compared his office to his former assistant Upali's new office in Ratmalana, and to the size of the office that the person who took over his last job in Kurunegala had. Siri knew that if he moved back to Kurunegala, he would be able to find an office with more space and a more familiar environment to live. He also knew that at least his nephew Jagath would be happy to see him back home, building the roads and bridges destroyed during the civil war. He also knew that if he wanted, he could live in Kurunegala, a city protected by the three great rocks, for the rest of his life.

- The only thing Jagath didn't realise is that all the roads and bridges in the Kurunegala Region had not been damaged. Unless he wanted me to go and work in the North or the East!

Siri closed his eyes and tried to recall the City of Kurunegala: its history, the three rocks, the lake and all other places that were familiar to him. The whistling kettle brought him back to Perth.

All my memories are like water evaporating from a kettle. The realities are different; just like the customs officer at the airport, I need to live and work in Australia. I can't go back now. I need to start work again in three days. But I don't have any close friends in Australia. No relatives, no family. Not even a wife any longer!

Working in an office without friends was a concern for Siri, especially after Daryl's departure to Melbourne. He hated some of the colleagues he had to work with, especially Frank, the Malaysian-Indian who always bullied him. Then there was his new supervisor, Gordon Grant, who disliked him for reasons unclear to him. Above all, Siri disliked Gordon for stealing his office with the Swan River views.

After Daryl left, things haven't moved smoothly for me at work. Are Frank and Gordon nastier than the fellows who checked my baggage at the airport?

He closed his eyes and thought of Frank, and their first encounter, the day after Siri started working in Perth.

Footnotes:

[1] Kussiya - The Sinhala word for kitchen

[2] Indi-appa - The Sinhala word for string-hoppers

[3] Kiri-hodi - The Sinhala word for coconut curry

[4] Kachcheriya - A building where the Government Agent or officers attached to the District/Provincial bureaucrats work

[5] Vela. - The Sinhala word for cloth hanger.

[6] Nona - The Sinhala word for madam

[7] Munupura - Grandson

[8] Sudu-nona - The Sinhala words for 'White Lady'.

[9] Mada-midula - Court yard in the middle of a house.

[10] Ingineru gani - A female engineer.

[11] Aney puthey - Oh my son!"

[12] Dana - Alms giving.

[13] Sudda - A white person

[14] Ayubowan - May you have a long life, a greeting in Sinhala.

[15] Akasa Kadé - A restaurant in tall building in Fort, Colombo