Academics again! The Lost Boys of Sudan.
Apr. 19th, 2006 09:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sub_dividedFilm screening. I was also at conference on academic freedom after 9/11, but that wasn't very interesting.
Lost Boys of Sudan reminded me of the History Channel special I saw a few years ago, about Sudanese factory workers in western Canada. Unlike that special, it was funny. The Lost Boys don't know what deodorant is! That one is afraid of sleeping on the second floor! I enjoyed this movie a lot. It's well-constructed, with minimal narration, and it focuses on a lot of different things, not just humourous cultural misunderstandings or how hard it is to be an orphaned Sudanese refugee who has been relocated to the U.S.
The Lost Boys survived the destruction of their villages in southern Sudan, and the deaths of their parents, and the long flight from various militia groups, to end up in a refugee camp in Kenya in 1992, where they stayed for 9 years before being resettled in the United States. The movie doesn't devote a lot of time to life in the camp, but from talking to Suyiya I learned that although it can be dangerous -- many people are killed gathering firewood -- it is mostly very, very boring. There are no jobs beyond pitching the tent and preparing food (and going to school, for the children). Which might be why, when half a dozen Lost Boys are resettled in Houston, only two of them work, and both complain that they don't have time for their friends anymore, or any time to make new friends.
Santiano and Peter are introduced through their YMCA contact (whose English is worse than theirs! ) to their first jobs, on the night shift at U.S. Plastics. At first they're awkward, but by the end Santiano is scarily good at his job -- which is good, because he's the only one supporting the house. This is after Peter has left (in the middle of the day, without telling anyone) for Kansas. When asked why, he says something I thought was interesting: "Why did I come here? Not for the house, the car, the clothes...I thought I was gaining something."
Isn't that what being in the United States is about? Working to buy things? What Peter wants is to go to school -- first high school, then college. He wants to learn something that will help his friends in Africa, but it's too hard when he also has to support the other Lost Boys in the house and send money home. Eventually he leaves to try and make it on his own in Kansas City. Santiano sees this as a betrayal, and in a way he's right.
It's an uncomfortable situation, because they're both right. I admire Peter for having the courage to go alone, especially since there aren't as many Sudanese in Kansas City (although there are several working Peter's shift at Walmart). But I also admire Santiano, for supporting his friends and working a factory job. He also wants to learn something to help his friends back home, so he enrolls in an electrician correspondance course. Since it's only him supporting the house, the money is tight. There is a scene where, after he's paid hundreds of dollars in traffic fines, he claims that his rent money was lost in the mail. Somehow I doubt that. I think he didn't have the money. I also think he got away with not paying by telling the secretary how hard his life is (more on this later).
Peter wants to form connections to non-Sudanese, and his major avenues for that are church and basketball. But this is an imperfect solution, because the church he knew in Africa is not the same as the evangelical church group he joins at his new school. It was a little painful to watch the scene where one of the Christians in his group explains that they don't deserve what they have, because they're sinners. Somehow I think Peter definitely feels that he deserves what he has. Basketball is different, too. I was frankly surprised that he and the other Lost Boys weren't better at basketball, because they're tall and because it was what they did in the refugee camp in Kenya. But I guess it makes sense. In Kenya they were learning basketball out of textbooks. And as Peter says, he's going against the children of rich kids, who have a lot of free time to work on their games. Peter works an absolutely grueling schedule: he's at school or his job or doing homework all the time, and only gets six hours of sleep a night. Despite this, he makes the honor roll.
When Peter, Santiano, or the other Lost Boys start to talk about what happened to them -- about their village, its destruction, their parents' deaths, their flight -- American listeners get a really uncomfortable look on their faces. They say something like, "I'm so sorry to hear that," and change the subject. I can understand this instinct, because it feels like there is no correct response to a story like theirs. Sympathy seems hollow when you can't hope to understand what someone else has gone through. But although there are cases where the Lost Boys are telling their story in a direct ploy for sympathy -- like when Santiano can't pay his rent -- I think that in most cases it is not about sympathy. It's about finding someone who will listen.
Suyiya told me that when relief organizations gave paper and crayons to children who'd been orphaned in the war, they drew pictures of people being shot. Or their villages burning. Or the women being raped. Although these events make many Americans uncomfortable ("I'm not sure I want to read about this," Peter's guidance counselor says about his biography), they are defining events.
It's just hard to know what to do about that fact.
There's some other stuff I could say about prejudice, both racial (African from Africa vs. African-American) and technical (although the filmakers pretend that the cameras are invisible, they must have influenced the proceedings), but I'm not sure I could do it coherantly so I'll end here. I'll point out, though, that some of what the Lost Boys considered Dinka culture seemed, to me, to be refugee-camp culture. After the movie there was a short lecture on the Sudanese civil war and its impact on the current crisis in Darfur.
Public Service Announcent:
http://www.savedarfur.org/rally/
I think the only march I've been to that's suceeded (or at least been on the winning side) was the Million Mom March, which was for tighter gun control. But you never know! More than 200 college organizations are participating, so at the very least it will be a lot of young people having a good time in nice weather. Sort of like the activists who have pitched tents in front of Murray Hall to protest next year's budget cuts, although they are also fighting for something they have a personal stake in.
(Anyone else effected by this? I know![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morning_songs is from New Jersey, but like me and falxumbra, she goes to college out of state. Or maybe I should say, like everyone: NJ's third-biggest export, after pharmaceuticals and cranberries, is college students.)
...there is no fandom in this post. Okay!
Pretend for a minute that the only contact you have ever had with me is through my fic. We've never exchanged LJ comments or emails, never hung out in chat or on AIM, never talked on the phone or met each other in person, none of that stuff. The only thing you know about me is the kind of fic I write. What kind of person would you think I am? How would you describe my attitudes and opinions about real-life issues?
Lost Boys of Sudan reminded me of the History Channel special I saw a few years ago, about Sudanese factory workers in western Canada. Unlike that special, it was funny. The Lost Boys don't know what deodorant is! That one is afraid of sleeping on the second floor! I enjoyed this movie a lot. It's well-constructed, with minimal narration, and it focuses on a lot of different things, not just humourous cultural misunderstandings or how hard it is to be an orphaned Sudanese refugee who has been relocated to the U.S.
The Lost Boys survived the destruction of their villages in southern Sudan, and the deaths of their parents, and the long flight from various militia groups, to end up in a refugee camp in Kenya in 1992, where they stayed for 9 years before being resettled in the United States. The movie doesn't devote a lot of time to life in the camp, but from talking to Suyiya I learned that although it can be dangerous -- many people are killed gathering firewood -- it is mostly very, very boring. There are no jobs beyond pitching the tent and preparing food (and going to school, for the children). Which might be why, when half a dozen Lost Boys are resettled in Houston, only two of them work, and both complain that they don't have time for their friends anymore, or any time to make new friends.
Santiano and Peter are introduced through their YMCA contact (whose English is worse than theirs! ) to their first jobs, on the night shift at U.S. Plastics. At first they're awkward, but by the end Santiano is scarily good at his job -- which is good, because he's the only one supporting the house. This is after Peter has left (in the middle of the day, without telling anyone) for Kansas. When asked why, he says something I thought was interesting: "Why did I come here? Not for the house, the car, the clothes...I thought I was gaining something."
Isn't that what being in the United States is about? Working to buy things? What Peter wants is to go to school -- first high school, then college. He wants to learn something that will help his friends in Africa, but it's too hard when he also has to support the other Lost Boys in the house and send money home. Eventually he leaves to try and make it on his own in Kansas City. Santiano sees this as a betrayal, and in a way he's right.
It's an uncomfortable situation, because they're both right. I admire Peter for having the courage to go alone, especially since there aren't as many Sudanese in Kansas City (although there are several working Peter's shift at Walmart). But I also admire Santiano, for supporting his friends and working a factory job. He also wants to learn something to help his friends back home, so he enrolls in an electrician correspondance course. Since it's only him supporting the house, the money is tight. There is a scene where, after he's paid hundreds of dollars in traffic fines, he claims that his rent money was lost in the mail. Somehow I doubt that. I think he didn't have the money. I also think he got away with not paying by telling the secretary how hard his life is (more on this later).
Peter wants to form connections to non-Sudanese, and his major avenues for that are church and basketball. But this is an imperfect solution, because the church he knew in Africa is not the same as the evangelical church group he joins at his new school. It was a little painful to watch the scene where one of the Christians in his group explains that they don't deserve what they have, because they're sinners. Somehow I think Peter definitely feels that he deserves what he has. Basketball is different, too. I was frankly surprised that he and the other Lost Boys weren't better at basketball, because they're tall and because it was what they did in the refugee camp in Kenya. But I guess it makes sense. In Kenya they were learning basketball out of textbooks. And as Peter says, he's going against the children of rich kids, who have a lot of free time to work on their games. Peter works an absolutely grueling schedule: he's at school or his job or doing homework all the time, and only gets six hours of sleep a night. Despite this, he makes the honor roll.
When Peter, Santiano, or the other Lost Boys start to talk about what happened to them -- about their village, its destruction, their parents' deaths, their flight -- American listeners get a really uncomfortable look on their faces. They say something like, "I'm so sorry to hear that," and change the subject. I can understand this instinct, because it feels like there is no correct response to a story like theirs. Sympathy seems hollow when you can't hope to understand what someone else has gone through. But although there are cases where the Lost Boys are telling their story in a direct ploy for sympathy -- like when Santiano can't pay his rent -- I think that in most cases it is not about sympathy. It's about finding someone who will listen.
Suyiya told me that when relief organizations gave paper and crayons to children who'd been orphaned in the war, they drew pictures of people being shot. Or their villages burning. Or the women being raped. Although these events make many Americans uncomfortable ("I'm not sure I want to read about this," Peter's guidance counselor says about his biography), they are defining events.
It's just hard to know what to do about that fact.
There's some other stuff I could say about prejudice, both racial (African from Africa vs. African-American) and technical (although the filmakers pretend that the cameras are invisible, they must have influenced the proceedings), but I'm not sure I could do it coherantly so I'll end here. I'll point out, though, that some of what the Lost Boys considered Dinka culture seemed, to me, to be refugee-camp culture. After the movie there was a short lecture on the Sudanese civil war and its impact on the current crisis in Darfur.
Public Service Announcent:
http://www.savedarfur.org/rally/
I think the only march I've been to that's suceeded (or at least been on the winning side) was the Million Mom March, which was for tighter gun control. But you never know! More than 200 college organizations are participating, so at the very least it will be a lot of young people having a good time in nice weather. Sort of like the activists who have pitched tents in front of Murray Hall to protest next year's budget cuts, although they are also fighting for something they have a personal stake in.
(Anyone else effected by this? I know
morning_songs is from New Jersey, but like me and falxumbra, she goes to college out of state. Or maybe I should say, like everyone: NJ's third-biggest export, after pharmaceuticals and cranberries, is college students.)...there is no fandom in this post. Okay!
Pretend for a minute that the only contact you have ever had with me is through my fic. We've never exchanged LJ comments or emails, never hung out in chat or on AIM, never talked on the phone or met each other in person, none of that stuff. The only thing you know about me is the kind of fic I write. What kind of person would you think I am? How would you describe my attitudes and opinions about real-life issues?