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The Milk Powder Formula – making of Anchor

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by Sumi Moonesinghe narrated to Savitri Rodrigo

Now began the process of picking up the pieces (after the July 1983 riots). In 1984, Killi transferred the staff from Berec, the battery company, to Jones Overseas. We had already drawn up plans to begin the import and distribution of Anchor Milk Powder from New Zealand. Killi recruited an excellent marketing director from India, Jojo Kanjirath, who was a highly-experienced marketer and advertising whiz-kid from J Walter Thompson, and I recruited Metha Abeygunewardene, a well-trained sales manager from Unilever, to be my Sales Director.

I knew my team was powerful and had sufficient strength to compete against Nespray, which was produced by Nestle, the world’s largest Swiss-based company with very deep pockets, I might add. It was a well-established brand, having been in Sri Lanka for over 100 years and thus gaining not just brand loyalty but becoming a generic household name for powdered milk.

This entire idea was a very bold move. We were taking on the world’s largest dairy company and even the New Zealand Dairy Board heads were sceptical of our plans. I still recall the breakfast meeting I had with the Regional Managing Director of NZDB’s subsidiary in Singapore, Alistair Betts, and Global Marketing Director of NZDB in Wellington. “How are you going to take on Nestle?” they asked me and I could hear doubt in their voices. Never in any of the NZDB markets, had anyone been audacious enough to take Nestle head-on.

Then came the next question. “Where do you plan on packing the milk powder?” I had my answer at the ready, having anticipated their questions. I talked at length and finally convinced them that we could and we would take on Nespray. “Here’s my plan,” I said and laid it out on the table. By the end of that meeting, I had their fullest support. That breakfast meeting was the start of the Anchor journey in Sri Lanka and Alistair Betts betting on Sri Lanka.

When I met Alistair initially, I was struck not just by his enthusiasm and personality, but by his work ethic, talent and dynamism. He was always attuned to what was going on and willing to change with the times and it was undoubtedly these traits that saw him spearhead the expansion of NZDB’s markets in South-East Asia. I was saddened by his death in 2005 and it was fitting that he was honoured posthumously in the Queen’s New Year honours list, becoming a companion of the Queen’s Service Order.

In an appreciation written by the Chairman of NZDB Sir Dryden Spring when Alistair passed away, Sir Dryden called him a legend and the face of NZDB, and “the first to crack those (South-East Asian) markets and get New Zealand dairy industry brands into Sri Lanka, Malaysia and Taiwan. Many of those brands are still the strongest we have today.”

I negotiated with the Bank of Ceylon for a line of credit to meet our working capital requirements. We then set up a packing plant in an abandoned garment factory in Ratmalana, on the outskirts of Colombo city, owned by Killi’s dear friend Nari Sabnani. While the hardware was being established aligned with our plan, our biggest challenge emerged with the sales agents. Nespray remained No 1 in their minds, and persuading them to place even just 10 packs of Anchor on the shelves was an uphill task. They were fearful of losing the Nespray distribution rights, which was technically their bread and butter. They didn’t want to put their businesses on the line for this newcomer that no one had heard of.

But we had a trump card —our strong marketing team, picked from the best among the best. We rounded up that expert marketing knowledge and began to pull rabbits out of the hat. Our marketing strategies proved to be the winner. Our brand hyped the concept of Anchor Milk Powder being from New Zealand — the fact that the milk was imported was our first scoring point because the Sri Lankan mindset of ‘imported goods being superior’ was yet a strong thread.

Our packaging and marketing collateral evoked the clean pure air of New Zealand with cows grazing on green grass on pristine plains, adding the innuendo that the cows did not have artificial feed but only consumed natural grass. This subtle canvas was our second scoring point. Our third was reiterating that mothers trusted Anchor because Anchor was pure wholesome milk powder.

And we had more! The mother we espoused needed to have a face. We picked Rosy Senanayake as the face of Anchor. She was a young mother who, before getting married, had represented Sri Lanka at beauty pageants. She had just the right blend of beauty and that young motherly disposition which fitted in well with the pristinely pure marketing strategy we were portraying. In hindsight, Rosy was a great pick as she continued to be associated with Anchor throughout her career, even after she won the Mrs. World title.

Our strategies worked and our sales began growing exponentially. In just 12 years, my very dedicated team, whom I liked to call my Anchor A Team (named after the famous TV series, the A-Team) and were truly like my family, had gained more than 70% market share. Beating the world’s No. 1 food corporation into second place was one of the biggest highlights of my business career.

I could never have done all this without Maha and Killi, and of course Susil, who was always there with a strong shoulder to cry on after major arguments with principals and suppliers. While Killi and Maha were always positioned together as the brothers running the Maharaja Group, they were diametrically opposing personalities. I knew Killi from our days in Singapore when he would visit us, but my first meeting with Maha was in their office at Bankshall Street, when I had been appointed Managing Director of the newly incorporated Jones Overseas Limited.

Maha, the older of the two, possessed a calm and collected personality, while Killi was very visionary, daring, outgoing and equipped with the courage to be different. But they got on extremely well, sharing company responsibilities with Killi’s personality fitting in well to travel the world to rally business for the company and Maha, managing the finances and controlling expenses.

Now that we had beaten Nespray and we were well entrenched in the milk powder market, it was time for another challenge. I wanted to tackle the milk tea segment, which was dominated by Lakspray, a cheaper product with only 26% fat. NZDB refused to supply us an equivalent to Lakspray as their thought process was that it would affect Anchor’s positioning. But on the ground, we were very aware of the market sentiment and so I arranged a meeting with the Directors of the UK Milk Marketing Board at the Savoy in London. My friend Baba Vairasinghe, who was the local agent for the UK Milk Marketing Board, arranged the meeting and accompanied me to it.

Some tough negotiations later, I left London with a signed contract for the supply of milk powder and payment arranged via a Letter of Credit. Not long after, two container loads of milk powder from the UK Milk Marketing Board arrived in Colombo – one went to Lanka Milk Foods, the producers of Lakspray, and the other to Jones Overseas for our new brand. This was a tough call for me and in fact, put to test the relationship and trust that had been built with NZDB. I knew Anchor was strong and the new brand didn’t pose any competition to Anchor. Eventually I was proved right and that little smudge in our relationship was obliterated.

My very able marketing team, headed by Shehara de Silva who created the brand name Ratthi, which in the Sinhala language means calf, was working overtime literally to make sure we continued our winning streak. We went into the market with a real clarion call and Ratthi didn’t disappoint. The calf was on a winning streak.

But our victories were not without some pain. It goes without saying that the world of business is one of ups and downs, but the challenge we faced in 1986 felt like an abyss and I was falling right into it. It was alleged that I was responsible for a consignment of contaminated weevil-infested full cream milk powder, which had been shipped to a semi-government entity under the Ministry of Trade, from the New Zealand Dairy Board.

The story made headlines in major newspapers with my name splashed across the front pages, even though I was only an indenting agent. I was devastated as I had nothing to do with it. This entity then sent a Letter of Demand for USD 1 million to NZDB and blacklisted the world’s largest exporter of dairy products, from supplying to Sri Lanka. The entire episode was impacting my company’s business very badly.

With the situation in dire straits, NZDB sent a technical team to Sri Lanka for an investigation. It was finally confirmed that this consignment of milk powder had been unloaded into a go-down which previously held rice. The importer had not fumigated the go-down prior to the milk powder being unloaded into it. The technical team then spent months sorting out our bags of milk powder. Even with these findings, the ban remained and our business reputation was suffering badly.

Finally, I couldn’t take the stress anymore and decided to meet my friend Lalith Athulathmudali who was the Minister of Trade. The best time to meet Lalith was when he was at breakfast because we could sit and chat undisturbed. I dealt a lot with him as Minister of Trade, due to the nature of my business. I told him what had happened, the findings of the technical team, and asked him to intervene in lifting the blacklist as the fault was not ours. It had already been proven that we had nothing to do with the unclean go-down.

“I can’t deal with this man,” I told Lalith exasperated, referring to the head of the semi-government entity, and not without a touch of anger. Lalith took one look at me, smiled and said, “Sumi, there’s no man you can’t deal with!” but assured me that he will sort things out, which he did. Looking back, this has been a pattern in my life. Just when I seem to be thrown into challenges that have taken me to the end of my tether sometimes, I seem to find the right person to pull me away from the edge of that precipice.

When it came to the intricacies of business, I was fundamentally self-taught. I had been thrown into the deep end and learned the ropes of commerce and industry on the run, but inherent wisdom told me that some professional value addition in business management would be helpful if I was to conquer the heights I had set for the company. In 1988, I had taken a short course in portfolio management and financial analysis in Geneva. This was a very exciting trip for me as Susil and I had travelled many times to Switzerland and revisiting some of the sites he and I went to, like Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn, gave me much joy. My fellow students and I would study during the week, and on weekends, put our studies aside and take a break doing these tourist runs.

In my quest for upskilling my business acumen, in 1992, I attended a course for chief executives at Wharton Business School at the University of Pennsylvania. This was a great opportunity for me to benchmark my knowledge and business skills with the other course attendees who turned out to be a Who’s Who of global business. I remember the CEOs of ASEA Brown Boveri (ABB) – a Swedish-Swiss MNC, Hewlett-Packard, Procter & Gamble, and ATT being among the participants. Besides learning from an honour roll of erudite economists and financial gurus from the USA, one of the biggest advantages I gained at Wharton was being taught speed reading.

With all the success our milk powder business was having, it was time for us to expand to a new office and factory complex. We obtained a loan of Rs. 600 million from BOC (for the construction of a state-of-the-art milk packing plant, liquid milk processing plant and an office complex. The entire complex was in Biyagama and was designed by Architect Navin Gooneratne. The complex was constructed by Mitsui and Sanken Lanka, which was headed by Ranjith Gunathilake. It housed some of the best dairy processing equipment imported from Holland, Denmark and Germany.

I was completely involved in the project from its very genesis. Both Navin and Ranjith were used to me poring over the designs and asking hundreds of questions, so I could visualise what the end-complex would be like. I knew the measurement of every wall, every angle and every area. I would make frequent visits to the site to keep tabs on progress except when I went on a six-week holiday to Europe with Susil, Anarkali and Aushi. When I returned, my first stop was in Biyagama.

As I drove in I was horrified. There were 16 giant concrete columns running the entire height of the facade of this five storey tall building. I knew this was not a design feature I had approved and immediately called Navin. “What are these monstrous columns doing in the front of my building?” I asked. “I want to make this a green building,” explained Navin patiently. “Those concrete columns are pergolas where plants can be grown. No one will see the concrete building as a result, only green, which will be very pleasing.”

However, I was not pleased. I turned to Ranjith who was privy to this conversation and asked him to remove the 16 columns immediately. “I don’t want to see even a trace of it. You’ll have to saw it off from ground level,” I told him. Ranjith was appalled and Navin was upset. Both tried to talk me out of it but to no avail. I had made up my mind.

The 16 columns disappeared, I was happy and Navin named himself the draftsman of the complex and me, the architect. The rest of the construction period was uneventful and went according to plan.

As Managing Director of Jones Overseas, I had the task of making a speech at the inauguration of the complex. In my address, I said, “I am 51 years old and have worked in this company now for over two decades. The time has come for me to hand over the reins of Managing Director to a younger person.”

No one expected this announcement but in my heart, I knew it was time. We were doing exceptionally well and judging by Sri Lanka’s corporate results, we were only second to Ceylon Tobacco Company in turnover. It’s always good to quit, while at the top!

After the ceremony, while we were returning from Biyagama, the Managing Director of NZDB Warren Larsen who listened to my speech at the inauguration asked me, “Sumi, are you willing to sell the business?” I didn’t think twice and quipped, “If the price is right, we will, but the final decision lies with Killi.”

Warren was determined to pursue the conversation. I had apprised Killi of the inquiry and when Killi hosted the NZDB team to lunch at his home, the subject of the sale of the company came up for discussion. Killi, who was always astute when it came to business deals, gave Warren the sale price based on future earnings. Then began a spate of lengthy negotiations with the finance director of the Maharaja Group entrusted with the task of number crunching. An agreement was reached.

The sale was completed in September 1996 and the same year in December, I resigned as Managing Director. And that was how we sold Jones Overseas to the New Zealand Dairy Board. With the sale of the company, I was considerably ‘well off’ as they say in Sri Lanka, having made sufficient money to enjoy life without running the rat race I had been used to for so long. I looked inwards and said to myself, “It is time to retire, spend time with our girls and travel the world.” And that is exactly what I did.

But I did keep abreast of news of my milk powder baby and was very happy when I learned eventually that Ratthi had got into the No. 1 position in the milk powder market, beating even Anchor, although a little part of me was sad that Anchor had lost that premier spot which we had built quite painstakingly.

However, while everything was looking good at this moment, during the time of the construction of new factory and office complex, I suffered a setback in my health.

I had become very stressed at work with this construction, travelling to Biyagama and back nearly every day, while ensuring our daily operations were on track, and helping Susil with his political affairs as he was now Chief Minister of the Western Province. The pressure was taking its toll on me.

I had a nagging pain in my spine which became quite debilitating. I consulted Prof. Henry Nanayakkara who referred me to Dr. Wijenaike. I was immediately hospitalised at Nawaloka Hospital and an ECG plus a plethora of other tests done.

Every test result came back negative but the debilitating pain persisted. I then flew to London and got myself admitted to Cromwell Hospital. A battery of tests later, every result was negative once again. There was nothing physically wrong with me. However, the doctor at Cromwell Hospital went a step further and referred me to a psychiatrist. A few sessions later, I was told that the pain was induced by stress. I was on the verge of a breakdown.

Killi was continually in touch with me and when I told him the diagnosis, he read the gravity of the situation and checked me into the Givenchy Spa at Trianon Palace Hotel in Versailles. I was placed on a special diet, received daily treatments with injections to my neck, had an exercise regime, revelled in massages and cycled in the evenings on the luscious 250-acre gardens. It was a total ten days of complete R&R and absolute bliss. One of the rules though was having no contact with the outside world, not even with family. The treatment, which I found out later that Killi had paid for in its entirety, worked.

Through these ten days, Susil was tasked with looking after Anarkali and Aushi. They went off on holiday to Yala with our lifelong friend Navin Gooneratne and his family. Ten days later, I returned to Sri Lanka – with no back pain – refreshed, rejuvenated and having regained my strength. I was ready to complete one of the biggest projects I had taken on – the construction of the new factory and office complex.

Just like everything in my life, I needed to be in control, even when it came to my illness. Through my bouts in hospitals, tests and spa treatment, I would absorb the details of the medical information by listening to doctors, scouring the reports and conducting my own extensive research. Susil himself had various medical issues – from cardiac, to cataract to kidney stones to septicaemia and everything else in-between, and I learned early on that I needed to be as well informed as the medical professionals, to be able to ask the relevant questions. Now I had added to my medical information arsenal and was becoming quite adept at dishing out medical advice, acquiring the title of having an honorary MBBS!

While this was generally a subject that prompted some mirth at dinner conversations, the arsenal I had collated did come in handy. When Anarkali developed a spine ache similar to mine while she was at Merrill Lynch, I knew exactly what to do. Her job was stressful, had long hours and gave her no free time. I organised a treatment regimen for her, similar to what I had at the Givenchy Spa, but at her apartment at Kensington Green, which was a gated community and close to Cromwell Hospital. Ten days later, Anarkali’s back pain disappeared and she was free from pain.

(Extracted from Sumi Moonesinghe’s Memoirs)



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How Black Civil Rights leaders strengthen democracy in the US

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Jesse Jackson / Barack Obama

On being elected US President in 2008, Barack Obama famously stated: ‘Change has come to America’. Considering the questions continuing to grow out of the status of minority rights in particular in the US, this declaration by the former US President could come to be seen as somewhat premature by some. However, there could be no doubt that the election of Barack Obama to the US presidency proved that democracy in the US is to a considerable degree inclusive and accommodating.

If this were not so, Barack Obama, an Afro-American politician, would never have been elected President of the US. Obama was exceptionally capable, charismatic and eloquent but these qualities alone could not have paved the way for his victory. On careful reflection it could be said that the solid groundwork laid by indefatigable Black Civil Rights activists in the US of the likes of Martin Luther King (Jnr) and Jesse Jackson, who passed away just recently, went a great distance to enable Obama to come to power and that too for two terms. Obama is on record as owning to the profound influence these Civil Rights leaders had on his career.

The fact is that these Civil Rights activists and Obama himself spoke to the hearts and minds of most Americans and convinced them of the need for democratic inclusion in the US. They, in other words, made a convincing case for Black rights. Above all, their struggles were largely peaceful.

Their reasoning resonated well with the thinking sections of the US who saw them as subscribers to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, for instance, which made a lucid case for mankind’s equal dignity. That is, ‘all human beings are equal in dignity.’

It may be recalled that Martin Luther King (Jnr.) famously declared: ‘I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed….We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’

Jesse Jackson vied unsuccessfully to be a Democratic Party presidential candidate twice but his energetic campaigns helped to raise public awareness about the injustices and material hardships suffered by the black community in particular. Obama, we now know, worked hard at grass roots level in the run-up to his election. This experience proved invaluable in his efforts to sensitize the public to the harsh realities of the depressed sections of US society.

Cynics are bound to retort on reading the foregoing that all the good work done by the political personalities in question has come to nought in the US; currently administered by Republican hard line President Donald Trump. Needless to say, minority communities are now no longer welcome in the US and migrants are coming to be seen as virtual outcasts who need to be ‘shown the door’ . All this seems to be happening in so short a while since the Democrats were voted out of office at the last presidential election.

However, the last US presidential election was not free of controversy and the lesson is far too easily forgotten that democratic development is a process that needs to be persisted with. In a vital sense it is ‘a journey’ that encounters huge ups and downs. More so why it must be judiciously steered and in the absence of such foresighted managing the democratic process could very well run aground and this misfortune is overtaking the US to a notable extent.

The onus is on the Democratic Party and other sections supportive of democracy to halt the US’ steady slide into authoritarianism and white supremacist rule. They would need to demonstrate the foresight, dexterity and resourcefulness of the Black leaders in focus. In the absence of such dynamic political activism, the steady decline of the US as a major democracy cannot be prevented.

From the foregoing some important foreign policy issues crop-up for the global South in particular. The US’ prowess as the ‘world’s mightiest democracy’ could be called in question at present but none could doubt the flexibility of its governance system. The system’s inclusivity and accommodative nature remains and the possibility could not be ruled out of the system throwing up another leader of the stature of Barack Obama who could to a great extent rally the US public behind him in the direction of democratic development. In the event of the latter happening, the US could come to experience a democratic rejuvenation.

The latter possibilities need to be borne in mind by politicians of the South in particular. The latter have come to inherit a legacy of Non-alignment and this will stand them in good stead; particularly if their countries are bankrupt and helpless, as is Sri Lanka’s lot currently. They cannot afford to take sides rigorously in the foreign relations sphere but Non-alignment should not come to mean for them an unreserved alliance with the major powers of the South, such as China. Nor could they come under the dictates of Russia. For, both these major powers that have been deferentially treated by the South over the decades are essentially authoritarian in nature and a blind tie-up with them would not be in the best interests of the South, going forward.

However, while the South should not ruffle its ties with the big powers of the South it would need to ensure that its ties with the democracies of the West in particular remain intact in a flourishing condition. This is what Non-alignment, correctly understood, advises.

Accordingly, considering the US’ democratic resilience and its intrinsic strengths, the South would do well to be on cordial terms with the US as well. A Black presidency in the US has after all proved that the US is not predestined, so to speak, to be a country for only the jingoistic whites. It could genuinely be an all-inclusive, accommodative democracy and by virtue of these characteristics could be an inspiration for the South.

However, political leaders of the South would need to consider their development options very judiciously. The ‘neo-liberal’ ideology of the West need not necessarily be adopted but central planning and equity could be brought to the forefront of their talks with Western financial institutions. Dexterity in diplomacy would prove vital.

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Grown: Rich remnants from two countries

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Mirissa (Image courtesy Wikivoyage)

Whispers of Lanka

I was born in a hamlet on the western edge of a tiny teacup bay named Mirissa on the South Coast of Sri Lanka. My childhood was very happy and secure. I played with my cousins and friends on the dusty village roads. We had a few toys to play with, so we always improvised our own games. On rainy days, the village roads became small rivulets on which we sailed paper boats. We could walk from someone’s backyard to another, and there were no fences. We had the freedom to explore the surrounding hills, valleys, and streams.

I was good at school and often helped my classmates with their lessons. I passed the General Certificate of Education (Ordinary Level) at the village school and went to Colombo to study for the General Certificate of Education (Advanced Level). However, I did not like Colombo, and every weekend I hurried back to the village. I was not particularly interested in my studies and struggled in specific subjects. But my teachers knew that I was intelligent and encouraged me to study hard.

To my amazement, I passed the Advanced Level, entered the University of Kelaniya, completed an honours degree in Economics, taught for a few months at a central college, became a lecturer at the same university, and later joined the Department of Census and Statistics as a statistician. Then I went to the University of Wales in the UK to study for an MSc.

The interactions with other international students in my study group, along with very positive recommendations from my professors, helped me secure several jobs in the oil-rich Middle Eastern countries, where I earned salaries unimaginable in Sri Lankan terms. During this period, without much thought, I entered a life focused on material possessions, social status, and excessive consumerism.

Life changes

Unfortunately, this comfortable, enjoyable life changed drastically in the mid-1980s because of the political activities of certain groups. Radicalised youths, brainwashed and empowered by the dynamics of vibrant leftist politics, killed political opponents as well as ordinary people who were reluctant to follow their orders. Their violent methods frightened a large section of Sri Lanka’s middle class into reluctantly accepting country-wide closures of schools, factories, businesses, and government offices.

My father’s generation felt a deep obligation to honour the sacrifices they had made to give us everything we had. There was a belief that you made it in life through your education, and that if you had to work hard, you did. Although I had never seriously considered emigration before, our sons’ education was paramount, and we left Sri Lanka.

Although there were regulations on what could be brought in, migrating to Sydney in the 1980s offered a more relaxed airport experience, with simpler security, a strong presence of airline staff, and a more formal atmosphere. As we were relocating permanently, a few weeks before our departure, we had organised a container to transport sentimental belongings from our home. Our flight baggage was minimal, which puzzled the customs officer, but he laughed when he saw another bulky item on a separate trolley. It was a large box containing a bookshelf purchased in Singapore. Upon discovering that a new migrant family was arriving in Australia with a 32-volume Encyclopaedia Britannica set weighing approximately 250 kilograms, he became cheerful, relaxed his jaw, and said, G’day!

Settling in Sydney

We settled in Epping, Sydney, and enrolled our sons in Epping Boys’ High School. Within one week of our arrival from Sri Lanka, we both found jobs: my wife in her usual accounting position in the private sector, and I was taken on by the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA). While working at the CAA, I sat the Australian Graduate Admission Test. I secured a graduate position with the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) in Canberra, ACT.

We bought a house in Florey, close to my office in Belconnen. The roads near the house were eerily quiet. Back in my hometown of Pelawatta, outside Colombo, my life had a distinct soundtrack. I woke up every morning to the radios blasting ‘pirith’ from the nearby houses; the music of the bread delivery van announcing its arrival, an old man was muttering wild curses to someone while setting up his thambili cart near the junction, free-ranging ‘pariah’ dogs were barking at every moving thing and shadows. Even the wildlife was noisy- black crows gathered on the branches of the mango tree in front of the house to perform a mournful dirge in the morning.

Our Australian neighbours gave us good advice and guidance, and we gradually settled in. If one of the complaints about Asians is that they “won’t join in or integrate to the same degree as Australians do,”  this did not apply to us! We never attempted to become Aussies; that was impossible because we didn’t have tanned skin, hazel eyes, or blonde hair, but we did join in the Australian way of life. Having a beer with my next-door neighbour on the weekend and a biannual get-together with the residents of the lane became a routine. Walking or cycling ten kilometres around the Ginninderra Lake with a fit-fanatic of a neighbour was a weekly ritual that I rarely skipped.

Almost every year, early in the New Year, we went to the South Coast. My family and two of our best friends shared a rented house near the beach for a week. There’s not much to do except mix with lots of families with kids, dogs on the beach, lazy days in the sun with a barbecue and a couple of beers in the evening, watching golden sunsets. When you think about Australian summer holidays, that’s all you really need, and that’s all we had!

Caught between two cultures

We tried to hold on to our national tradition of warm hospitality by organising weekend meals with our friends. Enticed by the promise of my wife’s home-cooked feast, our Sri Lankan friends would congregate at our place. Each family would also bring a special dish of food to share. Our house would be crammed with my friends, their spouses and children, the sound of laughter and loud chatter – English mingled with Sinhala – and the aroma of spicy food.

We loved the togetherness, the feeling of never being alone, and the deep sense of belonging within the community. That doesn’t mean I had no regrets in my Australian lifestyle, no matter how trivial they may have seemed. I would have seen migration to another country only as a change of abode and employment, and I would rarely have expected it to bring about far greater changes to my psychological role and identity. In Sri Lanka, I have grown to maturity within a society with rigid demarcation lines between academic, professional, and other groups.

Furthermore, the transplantation from a patriarchal society where family bonds were essential to a culture where individual pursuit of happiness tended to undermine traditional values was a difficult one for me. While I struggled with my changing role, my sons quickly adopted the behaviour and aspirations of their Australian peers. A significant part of our sons’ challenges lay in their being the first generation of Sri Lankan-Australians.

The uniqueness of the responsibilities they discovered while growing up in Australia, and with their parents coming from another country, required them to play a linguistic mediator role, and we, as parents, had to play the cultural mediator role. They were more gregarious and adaptive than we were, and consequently, there was an instant, unrestrained immersion in cultural diversity and plurality.

Technology

They became articulate spokesmen for young Australians growing up in a world where information technology and transactions have become faster, more advanced, and much more widespread. My work in the ABS for nearly twenty years has followed cycles, from data collection, processing, quality assurance, and analysis to mapping, research, and publishing. As the work was mainly computer-based and required assessing and interrogating large datasets, I often had to depend heavily on in-house software developers and mainframe programmers.  Over that time, I have worked in several areas of the ABS, making a valuable contribution and gaining a wide range of experience in national accounting.

I immensely valued the unbiased nature of my work, in which the ABS strived to inform its readers without the influence of public opinion or government decisions. It made me proud to work for an organisation that had a high regard for quality, accuracy, and confidentiality. I’m not exaggerating, but it is one of the world’s best statistical organisations! I rubbed shoulders with the greatest statistical minds. The value of this experience was that it enabled me to secure many assignments in Vanuatu, Fiji, East Timor, Saudi Arabia, and the Solomon Islands through the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund after I left the ABS.

Living in Australia

Studying and living in Australia gave my sons ample opportunities to realise that their success depended not on acquiring material wealth but on building human capital. They discovered that it was the sum total of their skills embodied within them: education, intelligence, creativity, work experience and even the ability to play basketball and cricket competitively. They knew it was what they would be left with if someone stripped away all of their assets. So they did their best to pursue their careers on that path and achieve their life goals. Of course, the healthy Australian economy mattered too. As an economist said, “A strong economy did not transform a valet parking attendant into a professor. Investment in human capital did that.”

Nostalgia

After living in Australia for several decades, do I miss Sri Lanka? Which country deserves my preference, the one where I was born or the one to which I migrated? There is no single answer; it depends on opportunities, prospects, lifestyle, and family. Factors such as the cost of living, healthcare, climate, and culture also play significant roles in shaping this preference. Tradition in a slow-motion place like Sri Lanka is an ethical code based on honouring those who do things the same way you do, and dishonour those who don’t. However, in Australia, one has the freedom to express oneself, to debate openly, to hold unconventional views, to be more immune to peer pressure, and not to have one’s every action scrutinised and discussed.

For many years, I have navigated the challenges of cultural differences, conflicting values, and the constant negotiation of where I truly ‘belong.’ Instead of yearning for a ‘dream home’ where I once lived, I have struggled, and to some extent succeeded, to find a home where I live now. This does not mean I have forgotten or discarded my roots. As one Sri Lankan-Australian senior executive remarked, “I have not restricted myself to the box I came in… I was not the ethnicity, skin colour, or lack thereof, of the typical Australian… but that has been irrelevant to my ability to contribute to the things which are important to me and to the country adopted by me.”  Now, why do I live where I live – in that old house in Florey? I love the freshness of the air, away from the city smog, noisy traffic, and fumes. I enjoy walking in the evening along the tree-lined avenues and footpaths in my suburb, and occasionally I see a kangaroo hopping along the nature strip. I like the abundance of trees and birds singing at my back door. There are many species of birds in the area, but a common link with ours is the melodious warbling of resident magpies. My wife has been feeding them for several years, and we see the new fledglings every year.  At first light and in the evening, they walk up to the back door and sing for their meal. The magpie is an Australian icon, and I think its singing is one of the most melodious sounds in the suburban areas and even more so in the bush.

 by Siri Ipalawatte

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Features

Big scene for models…

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Modelling has turned out to be a big scene here and now there are lots of opportunities for girls and boys to excel as models.

Of course, one can’t step onto the ramp without proper training, and training should be in the hands of those who are aware of what modelling is all about.

Rukmal Senanayake is very much in the news these days and his Model With Ruki – Model Academy & Agency – is responsible for bringing into the limelight, not only upcoming models but also contestants participating in beauty pageants, especially internationally.

On the 29th of January, this year, it was a vibrant scene at the Temple Trees Auditorium, in Colombo, when Rukmal introduced the Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt.

Tharaka Gurukanda … in
the scene with Rukmal

This is the second Model Hunt to be held in Sri Lanka; the first was in 2023, at Nelum Pokuna, where over 150 models were able to showcase their skills at one of the largest fashion ramps in Sri Lanka.

The concept was created by Rukmal Senanayake and co-founded by Tharaka Gurukanda.

Future Model Hunt, is the only Southeast Asian fashion show for upcoming models, and designers, to work along and create a career for their future.

The Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt, which showcased two segments, brought into the limelight several models, including students of Ruki’s Model Academy & Agency and those who are established as models.

An enthusiastic audience was kept spellbound by the happenings on the ramp.

Doing it differently

Four candidates were also crowned, at this prestigious event, and they will represent Sri Lanka at the respective international pageants.

Those who missed the Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt, held last month, can look forward to another exciting Future Model Hunt event, scheduled for the month of May, 2026, where, I’m told, over 150 models will walk the ramp, along with several designers.

It will be held at a prime location in Colombo with an audience count, expected to be over 2000.

Model With Ruki offers training for ramp modelling and beauty pageants and other professional modelling areas.

Their courses cover: Ramp walk techniques, Posture and grooming, Pose and expression, Runway etiquette, and Photo shoots and portfolio building,

They prepare models for local and international fashion events, shoots, and competitions and even send models abroad for various promotional events.

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