Dilani Blundell, 32, and Nelun Fahey, 34, met when they were adopted from Sri Lanka by their Australian parents in the 1980s. The sisters were raised in regional NSW on a diet of meat and three veg – and footy on the box.
Dilani Blundell, left, and Nelun Fahey. “I don’t think Nelun and I are bonded by our Sri Lankan heritage. Our bond, first and foremost, is that we are sisters, and we have a lot of shared experiences.”
NELUN: Dilani's birth certificate says she was four years old when she arrived in Australia. I remember seeing her at the airport – she was wearing this black velvet dress with long sleeves, and a pair of white knee-high socks that slid down to her ankles because she was so tiny and thin. She was covered in scars from head to toe from physical abuse, but she has no memories of what happened to her. She was found as a toddler wandering the streets in Colombo and taken to an orphanage – one of the nurses gave her a false certificate so she could be adopted and taken care of. That day at the airport, she ran towards me and embraced me, speaking in Tamil. I had no idea what she was saying: I'm Sinhalese but I only speak English – in Sri Lanka, our two peoples were at war with each other. We shared a bedroom: I remember lying awake at night listening to her speaking Tamil in her sleep. It sounded so foreign.
Dilani's only recollection of Sri Lanka is through flashbacks and dreams. It's hard for her to separate what is a true event coming back to her and what is simply a dream like anyone else might have. The only time she's really been able to distinguish between the two was when she moved to Sydney after high school. When we were growing up, Mum always cooked meat and three veg at home, and one day Dilani walked past a Sri Lankan restaurant in [Sydney's] Newtown and was moved to tears by the smell of the spices. Her response was so physical. She loves really spicy food and always has. Even when we were kids, Mum would take us to the pie shop for lunch and Dilani would always ask for the curried pie or one with chilli.
Dilani was really popular at school. She was vice-captain of Ulladulla High School. She was really sporty. I would "accidentally" forget my sports uniform – I'd prefer to write lines than do sport. We were the only people with dark skin at school so we could never skip a class because we really stood out – word would get straight back to our parents.
Sometimes Dilani can seem closed off. She's very self-sufficient and independent, so it can be hard to get close to her. She's always there for everyone in our family, asking how we're doing, but sometimes it's hard to know how she's doing because she's reluctant to share parts of herself. But given her past, I can completely accept that. Although, if she doesn't like something, she'll tell it like it is. Becoming a mother has really mellowed her out. She is a gorgeous mum, which surprised me: growing up, she was never motherly. It's so nice she's got her boy, Jasper. Everyone assumes Dilani's the older one, but she'll always be my little sister.
DILANI: Unlike me and my background, Nelun knows a lot about hers. She came to Australia from Sri Lanka at three months old. Her adoption was officiated through the Sri Lankan court system. In fact, Mum has met Nelun's biological mother, so we know that Nelun looks like her. Nelun has always had really long thick hair because her biological mother's only request was that Nelun never cut her hair. Mum avoided trimming it for her when we were kids. The first time she ever had a haircut at a salon was when she was 23. I think it was for a family wedding.
My first memories of Nelun are of us both sitting on our brick letterbox together, watching the world go by. Mum used to make us dress exactly the same and we hated it. There's this photo of us wearing identical red tights with hand-knitted jumpers that read "Happy Little Vegemite" across the front. We had a very normal suburban upbringing. We'd go on driving holidays to Coffs Harbour and Dad would always make us sit down and watch the NRL games with him on the weekends. His favourite meal was meat and three veg, so that's all we ever ate for dinner.
Growing up together, we were like chalk and cheese. I was the sporty, outgoing type and Nelun loved her books and was quiet and reserved. Nelun is so calm and patient, but make her angry and watch out! I have this memory of her chasing me around the backyard with a hockey stick. Who knows what I did – but it's lucky I was faster than her!
We've grown closer as we've got older. Nelun has taught me so much about strength and patience. She's endured a lot in terms of relationships. When her engagement fell apart, she didn't move home with Mum and Dad and shut the world out. She stayed in Sydney, got a job in childcare and really stood on her own two feet.
I don't think Nelun and I are bonded by our Sri Lankan heritage. Our bond, first and foremost, is that we are sisters, and we have a lot of shared experiences. Living in a small regional town where there aren't many people with dark skin probably connected us more than anything. And now that we both have small children.
Nelun has polycystic ovarian syndrome, so we didn't know if she could have children, but she had her daughter two years ago. She named her Priya, after the biological sister she's never met. Having kids at the same time has just been so much fun. Nelun is one of those few people who are naturally great with them. It's so wonderful that she has a little part of herself going forward. Priya is so much like her.
Nelun has always said she doesn't have much interest in meeting her family in Sri Lanka. She says her life and memories are here. But I think she could be nervous about what she might find. Whatever she decides, she's my sister. She's amazing.
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