MH17: Limbs akimbo like skydivers in reverse.

Today was Australia’s national day of mourning for the MH17 crash victims. Many Australians were coming home on board the flight from the Netherlands to Kuala Lumpur, and many others were coming to Melbourne for the 2014 International AIDS Conference. It is always a tragedy when there is a senseless mass loss of lives, but the tragedy feels greater when it involves a whole cohort who were working together to make the world a better, fairer and healthier place.

As you grow older, you hopefully experience more of the world, and that big bad outside world that seemed so huge when you were little starts feeling a bit smaller. And conversely, the more people you meet – friends, acquaintances, lovers, new family members – the bigger your world gets. In today’s age of globalisation, mass media and technological interconnectedness, the rest of the world is literally just a click away and the outside world and your world begin to collide. And a finger pressed against a trigger a world away feels like it hits you right at home.

In my own childhood, getting on an airplane was a rarefied privileged experience – first when our family was being repatriated and I was leaving Vietnam for good, and then as a dream to fly around the world. I didn’t fly overseas again until I was in university, and any fears of disaster were overshadowed by my youthful blindness to risk and my excitement for travel. As the years have progressed, the fears slowly increased – perhaps I had more to lose each time. And yet I keep on travelling - more to gain each time perhaps, and fears overshadowed by what's waiting at the destination – be it a new country or city to visit or live in, be it the friends and family I can catch up again, be it reuniting with the love of my life again, even just for a weekend.

In the hours before the news reports came in of MH17’s crash, I had been saying goodbye and good luck to some friends and work colleagues from APCOM, the HIV/AIDS organisation at which I am currently working. They too were flying to Melbourne for the AIDS conference. Some were flying direct, others through Singapore, and others through Kuala Lumpur. One colleague was excited to catch up with activists from around the world, and to again savour in the sights and sounds (and men) of Melbourne. Another was excited to visit Australia for the first time (will I see a kangaroo he asks), but nervous at presenting for the first time in front of a huge audience. He was still there in the office, 2 hours before his flight, refining his speech and taking in all our feedback. When he waved goodbye to us through the glass and hurried onto the motorbike taxi, he had that same excitement and optimism we all have when we travel, whether or not fear overcomes us.

When I think of the families and friends of the victims of the crash, and how they must feel, I think of my feelings at the thought of losing these friends and colleagues who I have only known for 4 months. It’s a small fraction in comparison, and my heart aches at that calculation. Ironically, in times of sadness and hopelessness, I turn to one of my favourite scenes of all time, which happens to take place on a plane:

Last Week in LCC - 20-27 July

Sex and the City - Season 6
Whenever my boyfriend is away for work, I revel in the space and revert to some old habits of singledom - eating whatever I want, playing music at loud volumes and binge-watching television shows. After a couple of nights though, I tend to have enough of the single life and desire some companionship again. That's when I extend the binge watching to catch up with the fabulous ladies of Sex and the City. Some quick thoughts:

• Carrie's issues with Paris weren't really because of the Russian, or at least he wasn't completely to blame. One thing I've learned as a trailing spouse is that you have to decide to move for yourself as much as for your significant other. Where were her plans for her own personal growth? For her own career? Perhaps it was because of Carrie's usual carelessness, or perhaps it was poor writing (or both), but it was clear that her heart wasn't in Paris so the whole final premise was quite weak. It was just a distraction to get her away from New York City and create some tension among her friends, speaking of which ...
• I was struck again by how much the show depended on the work of Kim Cattrall, Cynthia Nixon and Kristin Davis. All 3 of them knocked it out of the park with their respective storylines (cancer, moving to Brooklyn, and adoption issues), and the scenes where they were together (e.g. at Miranda's wedding and learning about Samantha's diagnosis, and in the final pre-Paris scene) were quite magical.
• I miss Sunday brunch.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes
Spurred by the quality of the previous film and the positive word of mouth, we saw Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and were ... quite impressed. No, it's not the best film of the year by any stretch - its characterisations were too broad but I give it kudos for its humour, its CGI, its thoroughly consistent anti-gun message, and it giving Keri Russell a chance, through however small and undeveloped a role, to grace us with her strong yet brittle screen presence. Unfortunately I also fell victim to two of Thailand cinema's greatest drawbacks - the temptation of buying the smallest drink available that happened to be 1.5 litres of coke, and failure to bring warm clothing for the cinema's relentlessly cold air conditioning. I was shivering a bit, not from the suspense of the movie, but from my bursting bladder and lowered temperature.

House of Cards - Season 1
We finally started House of Cards, having not done so out of a lack of time and a fear of getting sucked in. That fear was warranted, because we powered through 5 episodes, which is a lot for us. Kevin Spacey was his usual brilliant self and Robin Wright is the show's secret weapon. I was also glad to see Kathleen Chalfant in there as the Washington Herald's owner - I've always had a soft spot for her ever since The Guardian. I can't wait to see where this goes (and can't believe there is only 21 episodes left until I have to wait for season 3).

Cries and Whispers
This is one film I may never want to see again ... more thoughts in tomorrow's HMWYBS post.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Live theatre is a bit hard to come by in the wicked little town that is Bangkok. There is an abundance of live music, but the ‘shows’ that people come to here are more of the sex variety. So it was with some optimistic hesitation that my boyfriend and I went to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the RCA Mongkol.

The night began with a rocky start. Although scheduled for 8pm, we had to wait until 8:20pm before we could even move from the un-airconditioned hall and to an even smaller, but thankfully air-conditioned waiting room inside the venue. We listened to sound checks for about 15 minutes, before being ushered into the performance space. The space was set up like a bar, so that there several rows for sitting and some tables for standing. Luckily we managed to get a seat, because it was another 20 minutes until the band appeared, and then maybe another 10 minutes until the show started.

By this time, we had grown impatient and were ready for something amazing. Hedwig entered the stage, and while her wig was drag-tastic and the music was loud, something was amiss. The sound was warbled and the Thai-accented English was inconsistently intelligible such that we were distracted by needing to read the English surtitles above the stage. This was not looking good…

Happy Independence Day

Happy Friday, happy weekend, and oh yeah, Happy Independence Day America! To celebrate, I present to you this drag-tastic-'whether you like it or not' mini-rendition of America the Beautiful from the current Broadway version of Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

This last week, I just recently saw an amazing Bangkok performance of Hedwig, and I was hoping to write about it in time for today, thinking that the musical's treatment of the construction of gender and self-identity and Hedwig's search for her manifest destiny was a perfect way to salute the story of America. But alas, the best laid plans of mice and men etc... hopefully it'll be ready by next week.

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)

Mother's Day

In one of my first weeks in Bangkok, my partner and I were walking around Chatuchak Markets and, 'Que Sara Sara' played over the speakers over the homewares section. A wave of warmth and nostalgia washed over me. I was tired in all the heat, humidity and crowds, as we unsuccessfully searched for a red ceramic bowl for our house. But all of that faded away as the melody to one of my favourite songs swelled in my ears. It's a song full of memories for me.

I think it is such a beautifully written song because it captures both the romantic yearning for a happy future and the stoic acceptance that what happens in the future may simply be beyond our control. It neither dampens nor amplifies our dreams, merely realistically accepting the ambiguities at play. Something that generations continually teach the next.

It's also a song that has been used to chilling effect. Exhibit A: this emotionally brutal advertisement from the Thai Life Insurance Company:

It's also frequently used in cinema, such as in Mary & Max, In the Cut, and the one that started it all, Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much:

Here, Doris Day sings the song at the ambassador's house, in the hope that her kidnapped son hears the song and somehow responds. That crack in her voice when she sings "now I have children of my own ..." gets me every time.

It's that endless and timeless connection between mother and child that resonates the most with me. Probably because it's also one of my mother's favourite songs, and I can still hear her in my head, whistling the tune while she's cooking or while she's moving around the house. It's a song that brings me back to my childhood, a time when my mum, and her resilience in bringing up 3 children on her own in a foreign country, was so crucial for our family. It's a reminder of how much our mother's experience, wisdom and love comfort us as children, readying us for the world ahead. It's a reminder of the most important woman in my life, and how much I love her. Happy Mother's Day.

Less Impact Men.

It's been a big week for the environment, with Earth Hour last weekend, the International Panel on Climate Change releasing its latest report and policy summary, and the International Court of Justice ruling in Australia's favour and ordering that the Japanese Government cease its scientific whaling scheme because it breached the International Convention for the Regulation on Whaling by not being carried out for a scientific purpose (summary here). I've been recently writing ICJ case summaries for the online resource A38, and in particular environmental cases like the Case concerning pulp mills on River Uruguay and the Case concerning the Gabcikovo-Nagymaros Project. To me, the ICJ has always been reluctant to make major findings against countries, so this is the first time in the environmental context that it has so emphatically declared and ordered injunctions against a country. It's so invigorating to see such outcomes!*

Given this, I thought I'd begin doing my own bit for the environment, starting with publishing this post on No Impact Man, the documentary I watched recently at the Social Change Film Festival. This documentary follows one year in the life Colin Beavan and his young family as they try to lead a carbon neutral life in New York City. Each month they alter something out of their lives to reduce their carbon pollution - transportation, food, electricity, cleaning products.

Like Money & Life, the other documentary I watched at the festival, it was pretty inspiring seeing Colin (and especially his hesitant wife, Michelle) challenge themselves and adapt to a better way of living. They persevered in the spirit of 'let's just give it a go', and if certain things did not work out (like replacing their fridge with a naturally cooling, sand-lined pot), then they could go back. Unsurprisingly, despite some resistance from his wife at first, she enjoyed so many of the changes over the year that what started as an experiment became a lasting way of life.

Social Change Film Festival: Money & Life

Sometimes, the right film comes to you when you least expect it. That happened a couple of Sundays ago when I took my partner to the Social Change Film Festival at the beautifully preserved Scala Theatre to see two documentaries: Money & Life and No Impact Man (which will be the subject of a later post).

Money & Life is a US documentary that documents the historic significance of money as a currency, and how it has grown exponentially since the Industrial Revolution to now dominate our way of life. Where once spirituality, community and physical resources would evenly shape people's everyday lives, money now dominates our world.

The documentary specifically outlines how debt, interest and speculative financial trading have created a market that is completely disconnected from tangible goods and services, and how the pursuit of wealth in this context means that people are striving for achievements disconnected from the physical resources of our world and the services that develop relationships within our communities. This renders people blind to other important facets of our world, for example, the connectedness of relationships within our communities, or the unsustainable depletion of resources in a finite world.

The answer, according to Money & Life, is to re-imagine the idea of currency. Money as we know it can stay where it is, but why not create another form of trade-able currency that values good will, community projects, and other endeavours to which the present money assigns little worth? Will this inspire people to look away from the wealth of intangible capitalism and focus more on the value of real products and services?

Of course, this is not a new idea, but the power of cinema provides an entertaining, empathetic medium to express this idea. It is invigorating and the perfect antidote to my feelings of worthlessness and failure that I was feeling on the weekend.