Hotel Rwanda

Bah somethingood refuses to rest in peace. Just spent the entire Saturday typing out lists upon lists of CIP logs. Well, not the whole Saturday...spent dinner with family celebrating Greg's birthday at Takodachi, Clara's mum's place. That was cool. But that was just a respite from the torrent of purely mind-numbing admin work that constitutes the housekeeping that we neglected to do during the event itself. It really is coming back to haunt us. The moral of the story - always plan ahead, if you're leading.

Anyway...enough about that. I'm snatching a few minutes between the CIP hours of the buskers and sleep to write here. Friday was a great day. Went back to HC again, but the people were having S papers, so I couldn't crash immediately. Discovered that their junior batch not only contains Isaac, but Matthew as well. Definitely an intriguing little entourage from a really varied selection of CHS guys. But rather than hang around outside their classroom in my brilliantly white uniform, I thought it wiser to go visit the old teachers back in CHS.

Spent quite a while chatting with Mr. Liew, who, unfortunately, has decided that he has enough of teaching. It's a pity, really...it seems like the really good and forward-thinking teachers are also the ones that can stand teaching the least. I guess I just count myself lucky that I did get the chance to be taught by him at all. Anyway, while Purvis becomes allegedly less and less religious as he grows older, Liew is heading directly towards faith. Maybe it's a passing phase, but it's interesting how different people respond to teaching. And if two of my own teachers have told me not to teach, I wonder if I should still cling to my first ambition. Anyway, the old school hasn't changed much...Ms. Ong still looks the same, maybe a bit thinner. Mr. Liew seems to smile more now. But the biggest change was the sec 4s running around in HC uniform, which was distinctly strange.

You know, when you go back to a place that holds so many memories, nostalgia makes you see lots of small things. I never noticed how the school commanded such an impressive view of the surroundings. And they installed metal grilles leading to the staff room. And for some strange reason, the sun seems less hot and glaring when in CHS. Maybe it's just because the white paint of RJ reflects way too much sunlight. The pastels and earth tones of HC and CHS are kinder on the eyes. And while RJ can get really hot, CHS never gets more than...warm. Shorts do have their practical applications after all =P

When I finally entered the classroom, it was a bit funny, cos practically no one could believe that I was back two weeks in a row. One of their juniors refused to believe that I was a senior (their juniors seem to be much bolder and more frank...definitely a Huazhong trait), and no one believed that I was just crashing for fun. Heh, is it so hard to think that sometimes, I do prefer to see old friends again? And with the two schools so close by now, the change of environment every Friday is something definitely to be appreciated. Anyway, I enjoy being in their class; it's nice to have this unrestricted access - and why should it be restricted, anyway? And there's always Joel to keep up with =P They were asking me to stick around for Lit Wing, and I seriously wanted to just to see what another writing club was like, but S papers got in the way. Heh, I guess the most I can do is to crash their Lit or Hist S at 12.40 =P The more perspectives, the better!

After S, went to watch Hotel Rwanda. It's a fantastic movie! Everyone, go watch it as soon as possible! It's absolutely stunning in terms of subject matter and approach. There is the shock element of the gore of genocide and the mass massacres and blatant violence, but the movie's strength lies in its faithful portrayal of the response of humans to these extenuating circumstances. The shrewd pragmatism of the main character, trying to save his family and as many as he can from the genocide, is amazing to watch, and makes his eventual breakdown to the sheer horror of the situation all the more wrenching. The indifference of the outside world to the Rwandan genocide is portrayed to incisive effect, and I have to say that it is really uncomfortable to hate the West on the behalf of the Rwandans, and then remember that I am technically part of the West.

Memorable moments (WARNING - SPOILERS!)...the garbled radio voiceovers with a devilish overtone and sibilance as the main character drives through the black streets of Kigali on the night when the killing starts, the Rwandans' grim dignity in the face of the pullout of the foreign troops protecting them, the hotel porters sheltering escaping Europeans from the storm on the way to their armed convoy, the French missionaries forced to leave behind Rwandan nuns and children by the French evacuation troops, the main character driving a van down a foggy road and rolling over bumps and pulling over, getting out to trip over a mound of dead bodies, and the fog evaporating to reveal the entire stretch of road carpeted with corpses, the main character tying a Western tie too tight around his own neck and crumbling to the despair, the candlelit dinner on the roof of the hotel with machinegun fire in the background, the moment when it seemed like the family of the main character had committed suicide, and the feel-good moment when all the Hotel refugees cross over to rebel-secured territory.

It was a really strong film, with a definite and clear agenda, and done with such style and finesse as to exacerbate the audience's repulsion to the murder and the indifference of the outside world. Its focus on individuals shows how the main character tries to buy time in the hope of Western intervention by paying off all the factions in the conflict, how the beleaguered and understaffed UN colonel tries to maintain peace with 300 troops, how the exhausted Red Cross worker risks her life bringing refugees to the effervescent safety of the Hotel. How the main character's son witnesses a massacre that the audience does not see (reversed dramatic irony) and is painfully traumatised. It's a story about how ordinary people, abandoned by everyone else, try to survive and escape the madness that is the Rwandan genocide.

If this had come out during the time of the Rwandan crisis, I would have been moved to do something. But things like this can only come out after the fact, and as the movie shows, help from the outside can only be obtained if there is a personal connection. And that brings to mind the current situation. Seeing the news, I feel that I want to help the people in the Darfur and the Indian Ocean Basin. But because there is no personal connection between my life and their tragedy, the want is not strong enough to overcome the excuse of distance. Just as we can't understand what they are going through until we go there for ourselves, my help doesn't go beyond moral and emotional support (praying, the like, easy and safe things). It's just the easiest thing to do, to express moral indignation, and then conveniently hide behind spatial or contrived separations. That's what we do all the time. But tellingly, in Hotel Rwanda, the self-interested pragmatism of the main character is precisely the thing that enables him to help 1269 refugees to safety.

The movie is significant in itself, but it's more significant in relation to the real world. The full impact of what I saw on Friday hasn't finished sinking in yet. And that's why I think everyone should go have a gander at it.

pondered by phoenican @ 29.1.05