Let's support the local filmmakers

During the talk following a local film presentation at Weng Lok Theatre yesterday evening, the host asked who among the audience had seen Macau movies only for the first time. I hesitated about raising my hand. I had seen local movies before, but those were commercials targeted mainly at tourists. The ones we had just watched, however, were novelties in terms of the artistic elements involved. Characterized by the local filming sites, they naturally appealed to our sense of nostalgia. But of course, there were other attractions, too, especially the fact that the movie, “Crash”, had won the Best Film Award in the drama category at the South Taiwan Film Festival .

The three short films are of high artistic value. Though each conveys a different message, they all give a clear picture of the ugliness of human nature. ‘The light’, the first of the three, tells about a lady who is eager for marriage while her boyfriend, a compulsive gambler, cares only about paying his debt by winning a prize in Mark Six. There are others also thirsty for money, including even a young boy of less than ten. Towards the end of the story, which could have been a tragic one because of a murder, the few characters are still arguing about their shares of the cash prize. Indeed it is a reflection of human weaknesses.

Greed is also displayed in ‘Crash’, the second film. This time it is greediness for fame and popularity. The chief character, a high school teacher who often fails to grab his students’ attention in class, becomes flattered by more and more facebook  responses to his appeal for compassion for the disappearance of his mother. Another focus of the film is on the ignorance of many facebook users. Some take pleasure in sharing about themselves, whether it is something joyful or saddening. Others jump on the bandwagon without realizing what they are doing. The story has quite a surprising ending: instead of rejoicing at the discovery of his mother in a closet, he leaves her hidden there so that he can maintain the vain glory he has taken delight in.

The story about a tricyclist is another case in point. The pedicab-driver has seen a client draw money from a briefcase to pay him for his service. In his eagerness to deal with his family’s financial problem, he threatens the client with the pointed ends of the chopsticks and grabs the briefcase. But to his great disappointment, the briefcase is later found to be empty. Though the robbery has been due to an urgent need, the pedicab driver suffers from a guilty conscience probably for the rest of his life. The story is thus another moral lesson about failure to resist temptation.

During the post-screening talk, the three young directors shared about their experience of film production. As expected, they had had to overcome tremendous challenges to achieve success. What topped the list was the attempt to gain access to financial aid. There were other hurdles to iron out, of course, but none of them would dampen their enthusiasm for film making. Though they may have sometimes felt left out in the community, they were determined to commit themselves to achieving their aspirations. To them, doing what they were interested in was what had brought them real joy. Besides, they were proud to help draw global attention to Macau through their participation in international film festivals.

Yes, that was my first experience of viewing Macau movies. I believe this will be followed by more in the future. I hope that more and more people will appreciate the joy of movie viewing in the cinema and will give Macau’s filmmakers special support as their efforts are worth our appreciation and encouragement.

Film Review : Fukushima, Mon Amour’ - Directed by Doris Dörrie

The German film ‘Fukushima, Mon Amour’, directed by Doris Dörrie, is a two-hander, a movie for two actors/actresses, with the other actors playing only functional roles. It starts with Marie, a German lady, going with the organization ‘Clowns4’ to cheer up the refugees in the post-tsunami shelter in Fukushima. Still grieved by an aborted wedding, Marie cannot derive satisfaction from entertaining the tsunami survivors.When she is considering whether she should go back to Tokyo, Satom, an old lady among the refugees, asks her to drive her to the heavily radiated forbidden Exclusion Zone. There Satom is determined to stay and rebuild her ruined home. Marie decides to stay with her. The rest of the story tells how the two ladies get along with each other despite the culture gap between them.

The black-and-white images of the traumatic landscape with the presence of countless bags of toxic nuclear waste are sadly reminiscent of the disaster a few years before. However, the movie is not meant to bring the audience to tears. On the contrary, there are parts that display a sense of humour. Satom, who claims to be the region’s last geisha, is keen on influencing Marie with her refined culture. While she considers herself elegant, she calls Marie an elephant because of her height and clumsy gait. The way she sprinkles salt on herself and on Marie to ward off the evil spirits also creates cripples of laughter among the audience. In fact, the two actresses’ realistic performance makes the audience forget that their roles are the only two fictitious characters in the story.

The evil spirits, which seem so real as to be a bit disturbing, are assumedly found in the two ladies’ dreams. Obviously, this is due to their guilty conscience; Satom cannot banish the thought of her own selfishness in desperately seeking survival disregarding her apprentice’s safety while Marie is haunted by memories of her disloyalty to her fiancé just on the eve of their wedding. They remain conscience stricken until each faces up to her own fault. And with a resultant calm state of mind, they finally bid each other good-bye. The message here is that our sadness may have been caused by our own folly rather than a natural disaster and that there is always something we can and should do to overcome the sense of guilt and grief.

Despite its lack of entertainment appeal, the movie is highly credited for its psychological complexity and depth. There is no wonder that it is the winner of an Oscars award.

More than a mere concert

The event held by Mong Ha 930, the parish choir, at Santa Rosa School last Saturday afternoon was more than a mere concert.

It was a sharing of personal experiences. Someone used to see religious activities as an obligation imposed on him with threats about failing grades. Later, with the support of Mong Ha 930, however, he gradually managed to maintain regular Mass attendance. A choir member himself now, he praised the merciful Lord for the fervent Catholic he had been converted into.

Another young man told a heart-rending story about his forlorn love. He felt as though he had fallen into an abyss, where he thought his life would end. But through God’s mercy, he managed to pull himself out of it and is now enjoying a happy, contented life.

A young girl could not hold her tears when she slowly related how she had suffered from a disease that left her disabled to the point of being completely dependent on others. Now, healthy and cheerful, she praised God for her victory over her infirmity.

The story of a young lady was disheartening. A car accident took away her father’s life, leaving her mother seriously injured. Being the eldest daughter, she had to deal with all the problems thus triggered, almost unaided. She managed to forgive her father’s friend, the driver who had carelessly caused the accident. God had first shown her mercy by placing helpful people around her in her plight and she thus learned to be tolerant and forgiving.

It was a prayer meeting. Projected on the screen were Bible verses interchanging with the personal sharing and singing items. Each verse was related to the story told and it conveyed a message that inspired us to reflect more on God’s mercy. The verse about Jesus’ crucifixion, for example, was accompanied by a few lines read aloud to help us ponder the need to be generous and merciful. Moved by the stories and inspired by the Bible verses, we prayed inwardly in sympathy with the unfortunate ones and with gratitude for the chance of experiencing the presence of God there and then.

Of course, it was a concert, a very successful one. The messages would not have been so well delivered, far less inspiring, if not for the singing of what could be considered theme songs. In fact, the songs were so well selected that we wondered whether they had been especially composed for the purpose. The grouping of the singers had also been carefully planned to make the singing most effective and appealing. A song that delivered a message of love, for example, was sung by two married couples holding hands and exchanging loving glances. God’s presence, therefore, is shown not only at sad moments but also at heartwarming ones.

And the instrumental accompaniment was also highly impressive. Special credit was to be given to the pianist, who seemed to be playing non-stop, allowing the background music to persist throughout the entire event.

When the audience were invited to join in the singing of the last two songs, clapping hands rhythmically and waving the mobile phones with the light on, the atmosphere became so cheerful that one would imagine oneself at a show of a high popularity rating.

Father Peter, the parish priest of the Mong Ha Church, in his round-up speech, referred to the event as a prayer gathering, highlighting the fact that the choir’s performance succeeded in enhancing the awareness of God’s mercy, stressing that faith in God does not lie so much in the spiritual knowledge we pursue as in our personal encounters with God. Bishop Stephen Lee also reminded us that we can experience God’s mercy through our acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for one another in our everyday lives.

Yes, the Mong Ha choir members have performed a good show, providing us with great enjoyment and entertainment. Most importantly, they have delivered a very meaningful message to serve as guidance in our pursuit of spiritual enhancement.

Carry On, Carry on!

News of bomb blasts has always been very disturbing. It is a reflection of the impact from social chaos, unrest and insecurity.

And what happened in Manhattan last Saturday actually sent chills down my spine. When my daughter and I were there on our visit to New York last year, we were aware of the government’s grave concern about stringent measures against terrorism. There were warning signs inviting instant reports on unattended bags especially on subway trains and at the stations. And our visit to the Liberty Island one afternoon was cancelled because of a sudden announcement about a bomb threat. There seemed to be more police on duty in Wall Street on Sunday. Everything smacked of a tense atmosphere. I wondered aloud how I would feel if I were a resident there: Apparently, the world has become less safe to live in and people have become less trustworthy. Violence and bloodshed seems to be the order of the day. Should we live in fear? Is life worth living?

To my surprise, however, the locals did not seem the least disturbed. They had obviously learned to live with all this. How did they manage this peaceful composure?

This video clip on BBC news may be an answer to the question.

(http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-37403672?ocid=wsnews.chat-apps.in-app-msg.whatsapp.trial.link1_.auin)

When interviewed about their first thoughts after the explosion, the first respondent expressed his fear about a terrorist attack. Sarcastically, a guy’s first worry was about his dog. A small girl, who was all smiles, sounded very excited about having had a rare experience to share about in school. Most of the rest, however, said they would have to continue to live. Confident of support from one another, they would not live in fear. A few even took a picture of the cops, who did not seem to have just dealt with a life and death problem. So there was no panic, no sign of fear, no curse, no complaint.

Such is wisdom of life. It would be too pessimistic to give up plans and put aside the routine activities as if something might happen to ruin everything. It would be unwise of married couples to ope not to have children because of their worry about their future. In fact, such pessimistic behavior might cause the doomsday to approach faster than any terrorist attacks might. In other words, there ought not to be much ado about nothing (庸人自擾).

Of course, things need to be done about safeguarding the well being of the citizens. This is the responsibility of the government. Besides higher efficiency and more advanced equipment of the police force, attention should also be directed to educating people on the significance of mutual understanding and respect. If people learn to respect life itself, they will not resort to violence and bloodshed as a solution to life’s problems. And world peace will be a dream come true.

Behind the 25-minute documentary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1s56n9T4FzM ;

By the time this article appears, the documentary will have been broadcast. If you find the film worthy of your time, you will perhaps also find some interest in this detailed account of my participation in the filming process.

The invitation
When I was in the Holy Land on a pilgrimage in early May, I received a WhatsApp message. It was an invitation from the DESJ to attend an interview at which I was to share about my teaching experience. Amidst the joy of the pilgrimage tour, I put aside the invitation without giving it a second thought. Upon my return to Macau, however, I decided to call back DESJ for politeness’ sake. I explained to the lady in charge of the project that I was not in a position to be interviewed as I had retired and if there was no filming of the actual things happening as in a classroom environment, the interview would either be too boring or lacking in sincerity with most of the scenes simply made up for the purpose. Out of my expectation, though, I was talked into meeting her personally a few days later. And what followed was a couple of months’ cooperation with her and the producer on what turned out to be a remarkable project for me to treasure for life.

The Interview
The interview was divided into sessions and took place in various locations. Talking in front of the camera was, undoubtedly, a brand new experience to me. But surprisingly, I felt no stress at all. Instead, I tended to talk in ready response to the interviewer’s questions without too much prompting on his part. Talking, probably, is as natural as breathing to a teacher. In fact, I may have been so frank as to share a bit too much. Well, no worries, I tell myself; no harm showing my true self! Then what exactly did I talk about? Knowing that the film would be televised, I was keen on delivering a positive message. I shared about my dedication to helping my students appreciate the beauty of the English language and also to instilling among them the core values. Besides, I shared about my retirement life. My two freelance jobs, involving the work of editing and translating respectively, are somehow the continuation of what I had been doing as a language teacher. On the other hand, my participation in church work, which takes up much of my time, can be conducive to spreading the core values concept.

The Filming
The filming process was a novelty to me and it was fun for its own sake. Once it did take place in a classroom. That was a Sunday school class and I was telling the kids a Bible story. It was to show that the main part of my retirement life was devoted to church services. Similar filming occasions included my presentations at different sharing sessions about my Christian faith. Again I did not feel the least stressed. I talked naturally and enthusiastically despite the camera aimed directly at me at times.
A teacher is an actor, so it is said. In this respect, I am afraid I am inadequate. There were times when I felt uneasy. It was when I was filmed walking towards or away from an appointed place. I was over conscientious of my gait. And when guided to gaze at something as if in deep thought, I must have looked either very stiff or sulky. Fortunately, those were very rare moments. Most of the time I was filmed while doing what I was supposed to be engaged in without the awareness of the camera.

The school visits
The filming brought me the joy of several school visits. I first went to Chan Shui Kei Perpetual Help College. It was planned that I sit in a class of English by Mr. Quinton Tang, once a student of mine. He had often commented on my influence on his decision to become an English teacher. The class sit-in was thus meant to deliver the message of the baton being handed over. Sitting among his students, a class participant myself, I felt his earnest attitude toward teaching. Inwardly I whispered a prayer that he would one day also influence more of his students with his passion for English.
I next went back to Sacred Heart Canossian College, my Alma Mater as well as my place of work for a quarter of a century. The entire school campus had undergone tremendous changes. Only two old trees remained where I remember catching dragonflies among knee-high grass in early September. Traces of my presence were found in the School History Room, though. At the sight of the statue of our foundress, I grabbed the opportunity to pose for a picture in front of it. I still felt attached to it as it had seen me walking up and downstairs between classrooms in those school girl days.
The visit to Pui Ching Middle School gave me a totally different feeling. As I had retired only for three years, everything and everyone there was still so familiar to me. It seemed as if I had returned only from a brief vacation. I chanced to cross paths with a few teachers and helpers and we exchanged greetings just the way we had done before my retirement. The sense of belonging was still there and I believe it would linger despite the passage of time.

Interviews of teachers and students
Interviews were arranged with a few of my past students from both schools. They were to share about their impression of me. Following the producer’s instruction, I had invited students of different years of graduation. What they shared about would then form a picture of the different phases of my long teaching career. Their sharing brought back happy memories of the time we had spent together. They also expressed their appreciation for my serious work attitude, my passion for English teaching and my caring concern for students, in fact, a lot of kind compliment, which, at one point or another, almost brought me to tears.
Also included was an interview of a few of my ex-colleagues in Pui Ching. They were my close work partners who had been through good times and bad with me. We had braved immense challenges and solved hectic problems by working in close cooperation with one another. Listening to their sharing about me, I was moved, just as I had always been, by their long-standing support, on which I had counted so much for my attempts at coordinating the team.

The search for pictures and blog articles
The documentary was to be enhanced with pictures taken at various stages of my life. And digging for the right photos was so much fun, especially when I stumbled upon a few humble black-and-whites, which were still in good shape though quite small in size. They were reminiscent of the hilarious moments of my youthful days. And among the photos there were letters and postcards from students and I could not help stopping the search to read one or two of the heartwarming messages.
The producer also requested a number of my blog articles, from which he would pick a few lines and highlight them to enhance the image to be formed of me in the documentary. This was again a happy trip down memory lane. I was grateful for having kept a few hundred blog posts. Everything needed to substantiate a description of me was available from the articles of the related categories.

A few words of thanks
Now that the documentary is made, there are people and institutions to whom I owe my heartfelt thanks for their help and contribution. I thank the DSEJ for their kind invitation. Also on the thank-you list is Saint Francis Xavier’ Church, our Parish Church, where I serve as a Sunday school teacher. The principals of the three schools have been very kind and generous in allowing the filming to take place on the campuses. The interviewed teachers and students are to be thanked for their time and for their kind support. My special thanks goes to Mr. Albert Chu (朱祐人先生), the producer, and Miss Ann Ho (何凱盈小姐), the supervisor. Throughout the process of film making, there had been a lot of communication among us, exchanging ideas, clarifying thoughts and solving problems together. In fact, without their concerted effort, the film would not have achieved its success.
Of course, I have the kind Lord to thank for having enabled me to view my past with gratitude and satisfaction and to look forward to the future with renewed strength and confidence.

That daily hour

It’s 5:45 p.m., time to go for our daily meeting. As usual, I put everything aside and get ready for the hospital visit. Then I realize there won’t be a meeting anymore. In fact, there won’t be a meeting for a long time to come until our Heavenly Father arranges one sometime, somewhere.

It was also her TV hour. The machine had the volume turned up loud. The medical staff nearby, though obviously disturbed, made no complaint, knowing that it was her only entertainment throughout the entire day. While massaging her limbs and enjoying the program with her at the same time, I had to throw occasional glances at her in case she needed help as she could not utter a sound, let alone calling for help. When she was seized with sudden coughs, which happened even in her sleep, I had to help her remove the saliva/phlegm by doing suctioning, a skill I had acquired through long experience, which gave me the satisfaction of medical work, though far from being professional. However, it was the responsibility of the nurses to deal with the phlegm deeper down the throat. It demanded immediate attention and that was the time I dreaded most as there was not always someone at the nurses’ quarters. Most of them had been summoned to various tasks in the wards. But when someone was available, I almost always had my request attended to. I felt so sorry, for example, to have to seek help from a nurse who had just finished a task somewhere and had sat down for a bite of her bread. The nurses there had actually got so much used to my frequent requests for suctioning that I would only have to show myself at the counter and the work was done.

There were few words between us. She ‘talked” by winking her eyes. I recited the alphabet letter by letter. On hearing the letter she wanted, she winked. By combining the chosen letters, I made up the word. And word by word I worked out the sentence. That was how we communicated. Most of the time, she wanted to make known to me her physical conditions, of which she had a strong sense of awareness. When in a good mood, however, she would ask less stressful questions such as those about her grandchildren. Her daughters were there, too, on regular visits. Together we worked on her different limbs. She felt apparently satisfied listening to us talking about everything, occasionally raising a question or contributing an idea. In fact, her intelligence was not the least affected by her handicapped state. We sometimes sought her advice when we had difficulty making a decision.

The fifteen-minute walk back home after the visit found me walking at a leisurely pace, partly due to my fatigue but mainly because of my deep thinking. It was the time when I prayed to God, making self evaluation of my performance and begging for better strength and perseverance. I felt consoled at the thought of her pain relieved with my help. I thanked Jesus for having been with me there, boosting my mood and telling me what to do when things went wrong and also holding me back when I was on the verge of losing my patience. Yes, I sometimes regretted my lack of patience - . I could have been more tolerant of her requests though I found them too demanding at times. I kept telling myself I would do better next time … as if there were always the next time.

No, there will not be the next hospital visit. From now on the hour will always find me lost in the treasured memories of our being together.