Life in a Foreign Land: A Burmese in Japan

20 June is World Refugee Day. This year’s theme focuses on the impact of war on families and place individual refugee family stories at the centre of celebrations. The UNHCR is currently showing free films at the CentralWorld SF World Cinema as part of it's Bangkok Refugee Film Festival (June 19-24). Life in a Foreign Land was shown last night and will be shown again Tuesday night. Tickets can be reserved here and via facebook

Last night I had the privilege of attending the Bangkok Refugee Film Festival 2014 with some friends (including a person who had recently been granted refugee status) to watch the wonderful documentary, Life in a Foreign Land: A Burmese in Japan. Life tells the story of Kyaw, an upbeat, softly spoken and statesmanlike pro-democratic political activist - sort of the anti-Ned from the Normal Heart. Kyaw fled from Burma in 1991 after spending years opposing the oppressive military regime there. He left his home country on the orders of his father who said that he wanted his son to be safe and not in jail. After years in Bangkok and Japan trying to get refugee status and away from his wife, Nwe, they finally reunite nearly ten years later after both obtain refugee status in Japan. What follows is an uplifting journey on their continued activism, holding onto the dream that one day, they can return to a fully democratised Myanmar. At the same time, they must adjust to life in Japan, and face the very scary reality that, after living almost half their lives in Japan, the land of the rising sun could replace Burma as where they call their home.
 
What I love about Life is that it is rough and raw. There are no talking heads being professionally shot and edited. About a third of the documentary features raw news and activism footage from Burma and another third is relatively amateur footage from Kyaw's first few years seeking refuge in Japan in 1998 (the change in quality in the camera work throughout the years is another interesting artifact from the film). Even in the more recent footage which takes up the other third, the filmmakers do not clean up the film - shots are overexposed, the sound continues to be distorted, passages of speech remain untranslated. It is within this raw footage that we are able to experience the raw emotions of the key characters. As you can see in the trailer, the director is not afraid to zoom in for extended periods on Kyaw's and Nwe's crying eyes, or on their handed entwined when they reunite at an airport, or linger on Kyaw's face as his sings the cheesy but oh-so-thematically-and-Asian-karaoke-appropriate 'Right Here Waiting'.

Yes, this is a film that breathes the unpolished grass-roots air of activism, but it also very ably poses the right questions. Sometimes, I think thought-provoking is the wrong term to apply to these sorts of activist documentaries. Such documentaries are more question-provoking, and they are all the better for it. Thought-provoking may only lead to inaction - 'Yes, isn't it a terrible shame what is happening in all these countries ... okay next thought, next issue.' It's much better to create a more active response, and the best documentaries don't simply tell the audience what to do. The best ones provoke questions from the audience, and it is in the audience's own quest for answers that lead to meaningful action. So here are my top five questions after watching this documentary: (Warning spoilers ahead)




Does Kyaw eventually come back to Myanmar now that political situation in Burma is less hostile?

Late in the documentary, we are shown footage of the change in the guard in 2010/2011, when the Burmese military relaxed laws, held a semi-democratic election and released the majority of political prisoners. This coincided with Kyaw finally being able to see his father and sister (the whole family travelled to Bangkok) after not seeing each other for 14 years. It proved to be the last time Kyaw would see his father, who was too frail to travel again and passed away 5 years later. The main suspense in the film was whether Kyaw would return to Burma, but he never has. He explains that he sacrificed so much for his dream of a fully democratised Burma that he cannot and will not return to Burma until that happens. This is despite him acknowledging that there are very active political activists in Burma currently. For me, this is another reminder of the very terrifying reality that many refugees have to accept: that after spending nearly half his life in Japan, Burma might very well no longer be his home. This is the sad truth for many migrants - you leave your homeland many times over, perhaps in perpetuity. Abandonment happens in waves - the first flight by boat, train or air, when you seek asylum, when you are granted refugee status and residency rights, the granting of citizenship, opening up a new business, every birthday and holiday that you can't spend with your family, and finally when your children are more connected to your new country that your birth country.

Kyaw and Nwe at their restaurant, Ruby. Ruby acts as a gathering place for the local Burmese community in Toyko

Why didn't Kyaw stay in Thailand, like his wife Nwe did, so that he could be closer to his family?

This was asked by one of  my friends after the documentary, and the easy answer is that Thailand is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention and does not recognise refugees as needing special status. This means that unless you have a valid visa, you will be treated as an illegal immigrant. Actual enforcement depends upon the discretion and corruption at various levels of the Immigration Department. Therefore, while they would be definitely safer than in Burma, they are still not guarantees residency rights, civil and political rights, or economic rights like the right to work. Even in Japan, after being granted refugee status, Kyaw could not obtain full residency and travel rights until he fought hard for it.

This is why the argument that asylum seekers are forum-shopping for more 'prosperous' countries like Japan and Australia are wrong and misguided. Yes they may no longer be persecuted in 'safe' countries like Malaysia and Thailand, but if those countries do not recognise refugees at all, then their lives remain dangerous, precarious and fearful of that next knock on the door by the police. Asylum seekers in these circumstances are not forum-shopping, they are still legitimately seeking asylum in a place that restores their basic human rights.


Why did they include that long sequence on Kyaw and Nwe helping the Japanese flood victims?

About half-way through, the documentary deviates in a rather long segment to show Kyaw and Nwe volunteering to help flood victims in Japan. Ostensibly it was to show their kindheartedness, that it was their natural tendency to help others. But, as one of my friends pointed out, it was also meant to be a stark juxtaposition with a previous sequence that showed the relative lack of concern of Japanese passers-by as Kyaw was standing in the streets fundraising for victims of the Burmese Tropical Cyclone Nargis in 2008. In a face-sensitive Japanese society, this was a clear rebuke to Japanese society as if to say - we help you, why can't you help us? Which leads me to the final question ...

What can I do more to help?


This should be the ultimate question for activist films, and the general answer for any form of activism always seems to be: become more aware, share stories and experiences, donate time and money, and participate in awareness-raising initiatives such as World Refugee Day. It is much the same in the film world. Understanding and empathy is key to bringing the world closer, and as more blog posts, stories, music clips, films and documentaries are shared around the world, the more we can understand each other. I wanted to read more about Kyaw's story, but I only found one article online about the film but it is quite a good read that updates us on the Kyaw's journey. Hopefully this post can add to the online conversation about World Refugee Day. Kyaw's and Nwe's story is one of the success stories of the refugee world, and it is stories like this that give other refugees hope that they too can be granted protection and care that they inherently deserve as human beings.