My Sri Lankan family

extends its electronic tentacles across the ocean.From the outskirts of Sydney, my cousinSkypes my uncle in Colombo every day.My parents live in Leeds, just two hours away,but here they are, trying to fix the mic.She tells you at length about her divorced friendwho's lonely and whose dog began to bite:"Its name was Willow, it was a long willow-type dog."Crisply, he explains: "It's a greyhound."They're keen to know our plans. Someone has wed"another Tamil, and of the same caste. Just like backat home—it's so primitive—on our small island:is the girl even happy?" And my mother: "you do not know that,they are very very asians. She is on my Facebook."