dark? cynical? hey i write bad poetry too!
being blue in a red state is like being galileo among religious bigots. listen:
i saw a documentary today about child labor in Dhaka, Bangladesh. it stirred many things within. Compared to them, Americans seem like such horrible creatures.
The story focused around Idris, 6, who lost his job at the garment factory when child-labor laws banned the practice and sent those kids to school. without the care of his mother, and unable to support his invalid of a father whom he loved very much, he went into manual labor during the day carrying goods through the streets in Dhaka for at most 2 dollars a day.
When the "school" that was supposed to replace child labor, changed their hours to midday, he was forced to go into the line of work he most feared, tempo assisting. Already having 3 friends around the same age who died in this line of work, he went in out of necessity to pay the rent for him and his younger brother, and to feed his father, whom from what i saw was blind. Everyone in this film is about as thick as your wrist.
Tempo driving works like this. a driver sits a shitty three-wheeled volkswagon-trolly without doors, using the small carriage as a taxi. The assistant, in this case Idris, rides on the back like a garbage man, while the passengers load in and pay/haggle with the 6 year old who makes 1 fucking dollar a day. As in any city with such an oversaturated population, the driving patterns become hectic.
So his dreams of education were replaced by that of being a driver. just to make a little more. The video then goes around to other children's stories, like a group of three brothers and sister who sang on corners for money and eventually opened up a tea shop which failed at the ages of 7-9.
A memorable scene is when Idris goes to visit them a few years later as a driver (~ 12 yrs old). He and the kids end up comparing hardships like destitute old men and women. he then takes them to a monument in the corner of Dhaka. They don't see the beauty of it and very sharply ask "why didn't they just build a factory here? at least then we could have jobs" to which Idris replies, "many people died in the war for our freedom, shouldn't we do something for them?"
freedom. there's a concept. obligation. another. bang bang. After showing of few mishaps and wrecks, the film ends with Idris being taken to the doctor, at the ripe age of 14, with something between enphasima and rheumatism. in another irony of life, the government outlawed this tempo business for the younger kids, which meant that Idris and his friends had to take up rickshaw-pulling. in case you don't already know, that would kill you.
I later watched La Haine (Hate) for French class. a story about life in the banlieu (suburbs) of france, which is like life in America's troubled inner-city. I'm not going to spoil it for you, but it drives home the idea of struggle and desperation for a better life. A theme and line from Hubert, "Did you hear the one about the guy, who jumps off a skyscraper, and on his way down, says... 'so far so good... so far so good..." then pauses a moment for reflection. "that's what i feel like in the projects. so far i'm alive. so far so good... to what end? it doesn't matter how you fall, but how you land."
This did many things to me. My first reaction was to hate myself and fellow Americans. We're so wealthy and we take so much for granted. I wanted someone to complain about something so i could start hitting them very hard and make them understand what a fool they were for even thinking they have it bad. It was like i lost all compassion for anyone who paled in comparison to the Idrises of the world, anyone who didn't have it as bad as them. Such a strange reaction i know, but it was necessary.
Then i thought, no, this is no good. "Hate breeds hate." and americans, my friends, and strangers, are still people. if they have pain, no matter how trivial it may seem, it still matters and i should respect that. caring for one another is part of being human.
Now. I'm failing out of school this semester. As in, all 13 years before here, ouch. the work of my family to get me here, wasted. i will have to get a shitty job at QT and live with my mom, but the stress and shame of it is bearable. at least... i'm alive. at least... i can work. at least... i have my guitar. school isn't me you know. i can't keep trying to be this thing that i'm not. so. where do we go now? to the guitar. work work work and one day you might be where you want. life makes no guarantees but the human spirit will not be denied. cherish.
http://www.directcinema.com/dcl/title.php?id=407&list=407,61,141,62
http://www.bensonsworld.co.uk/v2/dvd-9/7000000093617.asp
i saw a documentary today about child labor in Dhaka, Bangladesh. it stirred many things within. Compared to them, Americans seem like such horrible creatures.
The story focused around Idris, 6, who lost his job at the garment factory when child-labor laws banned the practice and sent those kids to school. without the care of his mother, and unable to support his invalid of a father whom he loved very much, he went into manual labor during the day carrying goods through the streets in Dhaka for at most 2 dollars a day.
When the "school" that was supposed to replace child labor, changed their hours to midday, he was forced to go into the line of work he most feared, tempo assisting. Already having 3 friends around the same age who died in this line of work, he went in out of necessity to pay the rent for him and his younger brother, and to feed his father, whom from what i saw was blind. Everyone in this film is about as thick as your wrist.
Tempo driving works like this. a driver sits a shitty three-wheeled volkswagon-trolly without doors, using the small carriage as a taxi. The assistant, in this case Idris, rides on the back like a garbage man, while the passengers load in and pay/haggle with the 6 year old who makes 1 fucking dollar a day. As in any city with such an oversaturated population, the driving patterns become hectic.
So his dreams of education were replaced by that of being a driver. just to make a little more. The video then goes around to other children's stories, like a group of three brothers and sister who sang on corners for money and eventually opened up a tea shop which failed at the ages of 7-9.
A memorable scene is when Idris goes to visit them a few years later as a driver (~ 12 yrs old). He and the kids end up comparing hardships like destitute old men and women. he then takes them to a monument in the corner of Dhaka. They don't see the beauty of it and very sharply ask "why didn't they just build a factory here? at least then we could have jobs" to which Idris replies, "many people died in the war for our freedom, shouldn't we do something for them?"
freedom. there's a concept. obligation. another. bang bang. After showing of few mishaps and wrecks, the film ends with Idris being taken to the doctor, at the ripe age of 14, with something between enphasima and rheumatism. in another irony of life, the government outlawed this tempo business for the younger kids, which meant that Idris and his friends had to take up rickshaw-pulling. in case you don't already know, that would kill you.
I later watched La Haine (Hate) for French class. a story about life in the banlieu (suburbs) of france, which is like life in America's troubled inner-city. I'm not going to spoil it for you, but it drives home the idea of struggle and desperation for a better life. A theme and line from Hubert, "Did you hear the one about the guy, who jumps off a skyscraper, and on his way down, says... 'so far so good... so far so good..." then pauses a moment for reflection. "that's what i feel like in the projects. so far i'm alive. so far so good... to what end? it doesn't matter how you fall, but how you land."
This did many things to me. My first reaction was to hate myself and fellow Americans. We're so wealthy and we take so much for granted. I wanted someone to complain about something so i could start hitting them very hard and make them understand what a fool they were for even thinking they have it bad. It was like i lost all compassion for anyone who paled in comparison to the Idrises of the world, anyone who didn't have it as bad as them. Such a strange reaction i know, but it was necessary.
Then i thought, no, this is no good. "Hate breeds hate." and americans, my friends, and strangers, are still people. if they have pain, no matter how trivial it may seem, it still matters and i should respect that. caring for one another is part of being human.
Now. I'm failing out of school this semester. As in, all 13 years before here, ouch. the work of my family to get me here, wasted. i will have to get a shitty job at QT and live with my mom, but the stress and shame of it is bearable. at least... i'm alive. at least... i can work. at least... i have my guitar. school isn't me you know. i can't keep trying to be this thing that i'm not. so. where do we go now? to the guitar. work work work and one day you might be where you want. life makes no guarantees but the human spirit will not be denied. cherish.
http://www.directcinema.com/dcl/title.php?id=407&list=407,61,141,62
http://www.bensonsworld.co.uk/v2/dvd-9/7000000093617.asp