the intensity of cinema.

I must admit that I like movies. No. Wait. I am sorry. I like film. Apparently there is a difference. Word distinction and other trivialities aside, I am currently recovering from my first African film festival. Well, I am actually recovering from my first Film Festival. FESPACO, or Festival Panafricain du cinema et de la television de Ouagadougou, is heralded as the biggest film festival in Africa. Culture buffs from all corners of the planet descend upon this otherwise difficult to pronounce capital city for 8 days of film, arts, crafts, and goat meat.

Films were shown in at least 5 different theatres for 8 days from 8 am to 11 pm. I saw five films and I have to tell you, I am happy with that. I feel I have earned my debut film festival wings. Two nights ago I saw Un Matin Bonne Heure (Early one Morning). It was the story of two relatively affluent yet nevertheless disgruntled Guinean teenagers in the capital Conakry. During their summer vacation, they have no choice but to wallow in what they see as a dead-end life. Feeling that a simple, "good education", will not bring them success, they resign to the fact that an escape to Europe is their only option. The film footage is raw, the writing is at times, inconsistent (nay, unrealistic), but for me, the film was good enough to allow me to employ healthy criticism. Or what I pawn of as such.

Last night was, what I called, "Film Festival Marathon Madness night," involved "theater hopping" from one movie theater to the next, quickly slipping in line to catch the next film. The first first of these was Will Smith's The Pursuit of Happyness. I am sure many of you have at least heard of this well-trailered blockbuster. I chose this film over, say, Bunny Chow or Juju Factory (i.e., non-hollywood films) for two reasons. One, I have been in Burkina Faso for almost 9 months and part of me simply wanted to see a good new-fashioned Hollywood movie, with all its Pop-Culture familiarity and flair. Secondly, and more sociologically, I wanted to see an American Blockbuster in a quaint West-African Capital city, to see how people who have not been over-exposed to Hollywood films received the film. I spend so much time in village explaining to people that there is in fact poverty in the United States. That NOT everybody is rich. The concept of homelessness is lost of people who place family far above and beyond the pursuit of individuality. The movie, for all its cute Will Smith one-liners and sweeping musical processions, showed a part of America that we Americans easily overlook. The reality that homeless persons are People. They have a story to tell. I laughed a lot during the film, and yes, tears welled in my eyes. Is that not what a movie is supposed to do?

Following this 4:30 showing, myself and a friend hopped in a cab and bolted (okay, rather, slowly crawled in the horrible traffic) to the next theater, smack dab downtown. We didn't know what was playing, and frankly, we didn't care. I had received my Hollywood fix, and I wanted to simply jump into a theater, not knowing what I would be seeing. There is a certain excitement in seeing a film about which you know nothing. We ended up seeing La Vague Blanche, Moroccan film about a rich hotel developer and an out of jail drug dealer that cross paths when they collectively recover 20 kilograms of cocaine from the ocean. Think any Charles Bronson flick, spoken in Arabic, meets Carlito's Way. I got the feeling that most other people in this packed theater entered the room as clueless as us, because when the film started, and when people learned the characters spoke Arabic and the subtitles were in English (good for the 2 Americans in the theater, bad for the 250 french-speakers), there was a waterfall of murmured discontent for the first 10 minutes. A man next to me muttered in french, "I have NO idea what they are saying." Strangely, I found this to be amusing. I assured him that the dialogue was so bad, he wasn't missing much. All harsh criticisms aside, it must be said that this was this director's first full-feature film, and I have never experienced such a wide range of emotions of a single low-budget film in my life. I went from falling asleep to laughing until my side hurt, to actually sympathizing with the main character...and yes, my eyes welled with tears once again. The cinematography was horrible, the shots were too long, the dialogues were amateur at best...but I have never been more honest when I say that this director has an insane amount of potential. Following this 8:30 showing, we crossed the street and joined a mob of people waiting outside Cine Oubri, where the South African Academy Award-Winning Tsotsi was showing at 10:30. The film, spoken in Afrikaans, had English subtitles, so again, I was wondering how the largely Francophone audience took this. The film's studied and well-executed shots were in shocking contrast to the very slopping Moroccan film I had just seen. The cinematography was phenomenal. The lighting was a misty yellow-rust, accentuating the drudgery of Johannesburg Township life. My favorite part of the movie, aside from the simple yet masterfully-crafted character development, was the music. Heavy, loud.

So that, in a nutshell, was my FESPACO experience. I will be back online in 2.5 weeks when I return to Ouagadougou to celebrate the completion of service for the oldest group of Secondary Education Volunteers. Until that time, I will be in village, eagerly helping my new Woman's association get off the ground. Oh yeah, and eagerly catching up on my reading. So many books, barely not enough time.

I hope you all enjoy the quickly approaching spring. I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to the 120 + degree days which are due to arrive in a few weeks' time. I'll be sure to keep you all updated on my level of sanity. Until then, be well, everyone.

over.....and out. j