A Tale from a Promised Land

By Palitha Ganewatta

This novel tells the story of three generations of an Australian-Sri Lankan migrant family. After a bomb explodes near two leading schools in the city of Colombo, he persuades his wife that for the sake of their children they must leave and start a new life in Australia. After her mother passes away, her father — a retired school principal — agrees to join them in Australia.

The novel identifies the travails that beset new migrants from traditional conservative Asian backgrounds to a western oriented materialistic culture, which now accepts migrants from multi-cultural and multi-lingual backgrounds but expects the new arrivals to assimilate and integrate with the society of which they now form a part.

This novel provides deep insights into socio-cultural and psychological barriers encountered by a first generation of Sri Lankan migrants after their arrival in a new country. Through the combined interactions of a few protagonists, the novel depicts the struggles of socio-cultural adjustments, gains and pains of a South Asian migrant family who try to adjust their lives in a country with western socio-economic and cultural values.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398485921

Palitha Ganewatta

Palitha Ganewatta was born in Sri Lanka and obtained his Ph.D. from Moscow Friendship University in 1987. He migrated to Australia in 1992 where he made his home. He was employed by Australian Federal Government and also worked as a Broadcaster and Journalist in Special Broadcasting Service in Australia (SBS) for 21 years. He has translated Anton Chekhov’s short stories from original Russian to his mother tongue, Sinhalese. He has published short stories, novels and poems in Sinhalese language and currently engaged in translating Reymond Carver’s American short stories into his mother tongue.

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About the Author

Palitha Ganewatta was born in Sri Lanka and obtained his Ph.D. from Moscow Friendship University in 1987. He migrated to Australia in 1992 where he made his home. He was employed by Australian Federal Government and also worked as a Broadcaster and Journalist in Special Broadcasting Service in Australia (SBS) for 21 years. He has translated Anton Chekhov’s short stories from original Russian to his mother tongue, Sinhalese. He has published short stories, novels and poems in Sinhalese language and currently engaged in translating Reymond Carver’s American short stories into his mother tongue.

Dedication

For Priyani

Copyright Information ©

Palitha Ganewatta 2023

The right of Palitha Ganewatta to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398485914 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398485921 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to late Mr Sunil De Silva, a former attorney general of Sri Lanka for translating my original novel, written in Sinhalese into English.

My thanks go to Mr Sunil Govinnage from Perth, Australia, who inspired me to publish this book for English speaking audience.

Chapter 1

Sunimal deep in thought, with his eyes shut, had his train of thought interrupted by the raised voices of his two children.

‘Look over there, aren’t those roads that are running like black cables?’

‘Come over here, sis, those look like roofs—they are getting hidden.’

‘Those are clouds, we are within the clouds now.’

‘We can see a little, there are many planes parked. We are going to land.’

Sunimal watched his son and daughter scrambling to get a view from the windows with a sense of pride.

Avanthi exclaimed, ‘Oh dear, how frightened I was when it suddenly appeared that we were falling to the ground.’

‘Son, daughter, both of you, get back to your seats and fasten your seat belts. It is not safe to be standing when the plane is landing. Didn’t you hear what I said?’

Avanthi and Prasanga promptly sat back in their seats and fastened their seat belts.

‘I can’t fasten this belt.’

‘No that’s not the way, you need to pull the belt from here, pull harder,’ said the brother pointing to the buckle.

‘No, not that way let me,’ said Prasanga as he pulled his sister’s belt tight and said, ‘Now, sit calmly till we land.’

Nirmali who had been silent while the engine noise increased as aircraft descended exhaled a sigh of relief as it landed. She looked at the two smiling children with an expression of great affection.

The aircraft traversed the runway at speed, stopped and turned to its left and moved forward again. Several large aircraft with the red kangaroo logo on their white painted tails could be seen through the round windows of the plane. As instructed by the announcements inside the plane, Sunimal waited impatiently till the plane came to a complete stop to unload their bags from the overhead lockers.

‘Nimmi, you take these two small bags,’ said Sunimal as he took down their luggage from the overhead racks.

‘Prasanga, don’t fidget, let the passengers in the middle go ahead. You can go only after they have left. Take the small bag in your hand, hang the backpack over your shoulder. Give Sister her bag.’

Prasanga and Avanti looked around with their eyes open wide in wonder. This was the first time they had been to another country. Since Prasanga had been taught at Ananda College, Colombo that people in cold countries wear winter overwear to protect them from the cold, he looked around for people in winter coats and warm headgear. He recalled a picture in his grade six Social Studies book of a man wearing a winter coat and bearskin cap.

‘Dad, the people are not wearing hats and thick warm clothes.’

‘That’s in winter, it is summer, the warm season now and during this period, people are dressed in clothes like what we wear in Colombo.’

‘Isn’t that grandma wearing a winter cloak?’

‘Don’t ask now, I will explain everything later. Nimmi, could you fill-up the passenger cards? I will go into the duty free over there.’

‘Dad, I am coming too, I am coming.’

‘You wait with these bags near mum and fill-up the cards. I’ll come back soon.’

Sunimal rushed to the duty free superstore as he wanted to buy a good bottle of whiskey for Jaye who was coming to the airport to meet them.

He selected a Johnny Walker Black label and handed it over to the girl at the counter. As he could not follow what she said, he repeated his question about the price. Since he did not pick up what she said even the second time, he tendered a fifty dollar note as he did not wish to let her know that he had not understood what she had said even the second time.

‘I could not understand a word of what the girl at the duty free shop said. I could not gather what she muttered.’

‘How much did it cost?’

‘I think about twenty-nine dollars.’

‘Is it that expensive even at the duty free?’

‘How much is twenty-nine dollars in rupees, more than two thousand rupees, Aiyoh! we could have bought it for less in Sri Lanka.’

‘This is not the time to talk about that, let us get the bags and go outside, Jayantha must be waiting.’

The four had their passports stamped and walked down a few steps towards the baggage rotunda and waited for their bags among the multi-hued bags rotating on the conveyor belt. While waiting Sunimal reflected on his inability to understand what the salesperson at the duty free had said and repeated.

During the several years, he had worked as an engineer at the State Engineering Corporation, he had travelled to The Netherlands, The United States of America and London. He had not found it difficult to understand what was spoken in English by the numerous foreign participants at the workshops and conferences, but he could not fathom why he had not been able to follow what a young person who appeared to have been about eighteen years of age had said when he was purchasing the bottle of whiskey? He felt quite ashamed of himself.

‘Dad, I saw the large suitcase, here! Here! my small bag.’

‘Get to a side, son. I’ll grab them.’

Sunimal had to get two large trolleys from the line in the middle of the hall to load all their luggage. The four of them pushed the trolleys up to the baggage inspection point at the back of the hall. As previously advised by Jayantha, they had all the food items from Sri Lanka in one bag. When Jayantha spoke on the telephone a couple of days ago, he said that the quarantine inspector would only check the bag with the food.

The officer opened the bag with the food, took out a parcel and queried, ‘Is this cashew fried or raw?’

He was dressed in a yellow uniform with a dark brown tie with a design. He appeared to be of Arabic ethnicity.

‘Fried,’ Sunimal promptly responded.

The officer turned the two parcels of chilli powder and spices over and examined them carefully. He then put his hand inside and took out the bottle of dried and salted lime pickle.

‘Was this made at home?’

‘Yes.’

‘Very sorry, only commercially prepared food can be brought into this country. Food prepared at home cannot be allowed.’

‘Those things have been fully dried.’

‘Sorry, this cannot be brought into the country,’ and he opened the lid of a yellow bin kept near the wall and put the bottle inside. Nirmali watched sadly. Her aunt Sumedha had split, salted and dried the limes in the sun over several days as she knew that Sunimal was very fond of the salted lime pickle.

‘Pity! I am so sad. Aunt Sumedha made that bottle of salted lime pickle especially for you.’ Her voice sounded as if she was near tears.

‘Just forget about it, Nimmi, you can get these in this country.’

‘Are you mad? Where can you find Sinhala food in this country?’

‘Apoi¹, Jayantha said that there are three or four Sinhala shops in Sydney. They apparently stock a full range of Sinhala food.’

When they came out of the passenger hall, they saw a large number who had arrived in anticipation of meeting and greeting their friends and relatives who had arrived by air. Some hugged and embraced friends they had not met for some time. Many carrying colourful bunches of flowers were peering anxiously over the heads in front. A few well-dressed males were holding cards with names printed in large characters.

Sunimal and Nirmali pushed the two trolleys through the crowd to less congested space and looked around for their friend. The hall was filled with loud greetings by those who had located their friends. Nirmali watched these men and women conversing in a relaxed manner.

Avanthi broke out, ‘There, Jayantha Uncle, there he has spotted us and is coming our way.’

‘Hullo, Jaye, have you been waiting long? We were looking around to see from where you would emerge.’

Having greeted each other Sunimal looked at Jayantha, ‘You have put on a lot of weight these two years. Australia seems to suit you well.’

‘Put on weight? Mayuri says that I am slimmer than when we arrived.’

‘Where is Mayuri?’

‘She is at home with the baby, she is looking forward to meeting you.’

‘Yes, she will have two years of gossip to exchange with this one,’ said Sunimal looking at Nirmali with a fond smile.

‘Let’s go home now, we can talk at home. These two look very tired. How was the plane journey?’ asked Jayantha petting Prasanga and Avanthi on their heads.

They went up to Jayantha’s old Ford and loaded their luggage. Nirmali and the two children sat at the back Sunimal sat in front.

‘Were all the suitcases loaded into the dicky?’

‘Here the dicky is referred to as the boot.’

‘Ah! the boot.’

The route taken by Jayantha was not very busy. There wasn’t as much congestion as Sunimal had anticipated. There were just a few vehicles on the road. Not a single pedestrian was seen on the road.

‘I thought this city would be much more crowded.’

‘Sydney is not a very heavily populated city. The whole population is less than three million.’

‘Really? For such a large city?’

‘Not as big as London or Tokyo. In any case, the population of this country is not very large. The whole continent of Australia only has a population of eighteen million.’

‘That means, it is about the whole population of Sri Lanka?’

‘That is correct, but compare the land area, the population of both countries is about the same but the land area of the whole of Sri Lanka is about the land area of one State in Australia.’

Both of them burst out laughing.

Nirmali, Prasanga and Avanthi in the rear seat were looking around with great interest and their faces showed great surprise about what they were observing.

‘There is no one on the street.’

‘That is the norm here. Almost everyone has a car. Some homes have two or three cars. One each for Mum and Dad, a third for older children who are employed,’ said Jayantha.

Nirmali was following the conversation between Jayantha and her husband and thought that within the next few years, their family could also be enjoying a similarly comfortable lifestyle. Two years previously, Nirmali had adamantly rejected the suggestion by Sunimal that they migrate to Australia as permanent residents. She was totally unwilling to give up her position as an executive in a private establishment.

That was the period when growing unrest in the country was impelling many people with professional qualifications to leave the country. Jayantha who had been in the same batch of students in the Engineering Faculty at the Peradeniya University had migrated to Australia two years earlier. Nirmali thought that his advice had planted the idea of migrating in the mind of his best friend Sunimal.

It was a chance event which made Nirmali who had initially been reluctant to leave the country to change her stance. They were residing at Moratuwa and the children travelled to school in a private van. The driver would drop Avanthi who was in grade one at the Methodist Girls’ School at Kollupitiya and then take Prasanga to the Ananda College at Maradana.

Nirmali recalls the bomb attack on the Army Headquarters at Colombo, as clearly as if it happened yesterday. She remembers that the van that usually brings the two children back by 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon had not returned even by 6:00 p.m. Shivers run through her body even now when she recalls the fear and anxiety, she felt that day. It was the fear and apprehension she felt that day that made her decide that they should leave the country for the education and future prospects of her children.

After driving for about ten minutes, they turned into the driveway that served the block of Units where Jayantha lived. Jayantha halted the car near the six-storeyed brick building marked 14.

‘Our Unit is on the third floor. We will take the luggage later. There! Mayuri is watching from the balcony.’

Mayuri waved to them and quickly came down the stairs and hugged Nirmali and Prasanga and Avanthi and shook hands with Sunimal.

‘We were waiting impatiently for you and this one²,’ said Mayuri stroking the head of her daughter who was clinging on to her, ‘has been asking for the last two weeks when our elder brother Prasanga and elder sister Avanthi are arriving?’

‘Nimmi, you are just the same, you have not changed at all during the past two years.’

‘This small room is for you,’ said Mayuri showing them the largest room in the Unit, ‘there are two small mattresses for the two children.’

‘You have given us your bedroom, where are you going to sleep.’

‘This is our home, where can’t we sleep?’

‘You can’t do that Jaye; we will sleep on the floor in the hall.’

‘Don’t speak nonsense, now all of you have a good wash and sit down for lunch. You must be very tired,’ said Jayantha, patting Sunimal on the back.

Jayantha’s Unit was not very spacious, just three rooms, a sitting room, a small kitchen with a gas cooker and a bathroom. From a seat in the middle of the sitting room and viewed through a large glass window on the right, a road could be seen between tall buildings.

Flowers of varied colours were growing in the space between the buildings and the road. Young men and women could be seen walking between the cars parked along the road. Large letters U N S W could be seen on the top of a tall building at the end of the road.

Jayantha took a partly consumed bottle of whiskey from rack and placed it on the table saying, ‘That tall building is the University of New South Wales.’

‘Ah! Is that the University? Isn’t that where you are reading for your Masters?’

‘Jobs are hard to get these days. There is an economic recession in this country. So, while applying for jobs, I thought I would follow an MSc