September 2010.
I am 40. In less than 3 months I will be on my first flight to Sri Lanka. Mixed emotions. Keen to see the place I have pictured in my mind. Keen to smell and taste all the spices I have grown to love. Keen to learn more about my heritage and culture. Not sure how I will feel when I walk off the plane. Will I feel like a stranger? A foreigner? Overwhelmed and confused? Will I feel at home? Will I fit in? Will there be a deep sense of belonging? Will I see people who look like me?
I have a new hairdresser. Her salon is situated in the front of her house, and she lives about 10 houses down the street from me. She is Sri Lankan. She has heard of me from a neighbour, but we have never met. We hit it off straight away. She talks non-stop. Loves to see how excited I am about visiting Sri Lanka. She is suprised I have never been before. She tells me lots of things - how to travel; where to stay; how many times she has been back with her children and husband; how much family they still have over there. She is Sinhalese. She can speak the language. She was brought up there, but her children are brought up here. She sends them to a special language school, where they are amoung others who speak Sinhalese. She loves her country. I'm interested in her perspective. I rarely chance upon a Sinhalese person, who is so happy to chat with me. I suppose this is because it's just the two of us in her salon. She brings me some magazines she brought back from Sri Lanka, on her last visit. I start to question why it has taken 40 years to visit this land and its people! A different perspective from a fellow Sri Lankan. The effects of being different, start to become apparent. The difference between a Sinhalese and a Burgher. It's really my first insight into why the Burghers lost their love for their country. I think a lot about what we talked about. I think about why my parents had no desire to take us to Sri Lanka for a holiday, when we were kids. I think about how much we have missed.
1966.
My parents leave Sri Lanka, bound for Australia, mum is pregnant with my brother. They arrive in Melbourne, disembark from the ship. Bringing with them only what they can carry. And all their hopes and dreams for a new life in a new land.
1986.
Im in my last months of high school. I have my first calling to visit Sri Lanka. I buy a Lonely Planet guide. Whilst studying for my last exams, I daydream about travelling around Sri Lanka. I tell my parents of my intentions. 'Dont be bloody stupid, you're a girl!' I shelve my Lonely Planet guide, and I shelve my trip to Sri Lanka. One day I will visit you.
June 2010.
'What do you hope to achieve?' This is the question I am thrown, when I tell my friends that I am planning our first trip to Sri Lanka. I'm baffled. She is also an Aussie Burgher. Her husband is Aussie Aussie. They haven't heard the calling - yet. I explain that I have been wanting to visit for many many years. I want to 'eat my way around the country' was my reply. I love the food! Its hard to find in Brisbane. You can really only find it at an aunty's house! I don't think they will visit. This saddens me. Such a loss.
August 2010.
My brother heads off to India, on a motorcycle tour. I chat with him a few days before he leaves. We meet at a vegetarian hari krishna restaurant in West End. The smell greets us as we walk up the stairs. Simple decore, my eyes fall onto the food. I have to try it all! I'm happy! We chat for ages about his trip. He is excited and a bit nervous. He has been planning if for a while. Has read up on the places and people. He has visited India several times before. He is glowing. He has only been to Sri Lanka once, in the mid '80's. He wasnt impressed. He feels a real contentment in Nepal, and India. He is drawn to come back again and again. He does not feel this way towards Sri Lanka. It perplexes both of us. I suggest he needs to go back again, maybe it will feel different. We both wonder why our parents never wanted to go back to Sri Lanka. We talk about the way they must have felt when they left. It seems they left with a sour taste in their mouths. Their country had turned her back on them. They were Burghers. They didn't fit in. They were European decendents, from the Dutch and Portuguese. English was their first language. The government in Sri Lanka changed in the 60's. Life was more difficult for them. They decided they wanted more for their children. They left.
'You are not Sri Lankan, you are Australian!' This is what my dad tells me.
He is almost upset. He has done a lot for us, and given us more than he ever had. He has shown us a deep sense of family. 'Your family comes first'. I don't mean to offend him, calling myself Sri Lankan. It's just that I dont look like an Aussie. It's quite obvious. I forget that I look different to others. But I also often feel like an ugly duckling. Like something about me, just doesn't belong. A bit lost.
February 2008.
I visit Melbourne with my daughter, two sisters and mum. I'm suprised. I fit in. We fit in. Dandenong. The shops, the food, the people on the street. They look like me. I don't feel odd. Its suprisingly comforting. I think about the differences between Melbourne and Brisbane. Diversity.
March 2000.
I move to South Africa with my children and husband. I am in a foreign country, rich with culture, diversity and new images. I love it. Every day is filled with awe. I begin to understand what my parents must have been through, leaving their own country, and living in a foreign land. Learning how to do as the locals do. I start to appreciate the hardships they endured for us, and what they must have sacrificed for us. To give us a better life. I understand their tendency to gravitate toward fellow Sri Lankans. We notice that we are drawn toward other Aussies living in our small South African town, Phalaborwa. People who understand where we come from. We are lucky. We are visiting on working visas. We know we will be back in Australia at some point. Its reassuring for us. Its a safety net. A security blanket. It protects us. We enjoy 3 years in South Africa. Being absorbed in it. We leave with heavy hearts. South Africa will always be in our hearts. My parents didnt have that safety net. They left their homes, their families and friends. All that was familiar to them. Australia in the 60's was not that welcoming. Not as open minded and tolerant of people who came from Asia. My parents endured inequalities and discrimination. They worked in factories and did shift work. They bought a house. They sponsored other relatives to come to Australia. We spent all our time with our family and relatives. Our best friends were our cousins. We party'd a lot! We would listen to our parents telling stories and jokes in Sinhalese, so we couldnt understand. The laughter was loud! They used to speak some Sinhalese, but have lost it over the years.
April/May 1985.
My dad flies to Sri Lanka. The first time he has returned since 1966. He goes to collect his mums ashes. I recall him saying that 'Ceylon has changed, its dirty now.' He is disappointed. He is happy that Australia is his home.
