Step Up, Mollywood

I know that you've heard of Hollywood. Everyone has heard of Hollywood.

And if you're a real film aficionado, you may even have heard of Bollywood, India's answer to Hollywood.

Now, let me introduce you to the new kid on the block, which I'll dub Mollywood. Hollywood Mozambique. One of the many positive things that are happening in Mozambique. Probably the first movies that come to mind are Blood Diamond (2006, Leonardo DiCaprio) and previously, Ali (2001, Will Smith), but those aren't Mollywood. They're just the product of Hollywood looking for inexpensive and authentic-looking sets in Maputo.

This afternoon, Mario took me to the Theatro Gil Vicente on Avenida Samora Machel in search of the real Mollywood, to catch the matinee viewing of "O Jardim do outro Homem" (Another Man's Garden). Yes, Mollywood, though smaller than most movie-producing meccas, exists. Mollywood even writes, directs and produces its own films. For this eighty-minutes- plus-intermission, Mollywood was thriving.

No matter that the theatre, a cavernous and aging Portuguese monstrosity designed for stage plays not shown in decades, had all of six people in it. Perhaps the price was a deterrent, though at about $1.50 per ticket for the Monday matinee, I would have imagined that a few more people would have bitten. Maybe the after-dinner crowd is bigger, but I doubt big enough to fill the theatre's thousand or more seats.

The film that Mollywood projected on the screen was categorically not Hollywood. There were no explosions, despite the country's infamy with landmines. And I could have seen more guns standing on the theatre's steps looking out towards the street than I saw captured on film (the latter featured a grand total of zero).

Instead, the film showed a culturally-accurate portrayal of the obstacles that a teenaged Mozambican girl faces in her quest to qualify for university and become a medical doctor. The film addresses many of this country's biggest issues: HIV/AIDS, corruption and coercion, petty theft, and poverty.

Its title, reflecting persisting gender discrimination, is a derivative of the traditional sentiment in Mozambique that, "sending a girl to school is like watering another man's garden." Paying to educate a daughter is useless because her lot in life will be restricted to raising and feeding the children of someone else's son.

At several moments in the film, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. After one of the plot's critical moments, showing a male teacher advancing on a student in exchange for the promise of better grades, I thought of Captain Jack Sparrow. "This is as real as Pirates of the Caribbean," I asked with my eyes, not uttering a word. It's just a movie, right?

"It's very real," Mario assured me, understanding my silent discomfort. Mollywood punches with the strength of reality, producing socially-charged and relevant cinema that would be dismissed as drab documentary by Hollywood's red carpet crowd.

Mario felt encouraged by the film's message of strength in the face of adversity. I wasn't encouraged so much as speechless and contemplative. Sometimes reality is hard to swallow.

Samuel Redux

You may remember Samuel, the micro-entrepreneur barber profiled here last month. This weekend, we got to know Samuel the student: same Samuel, different role.

Samuel knocked on our door in search of Laura, hoping that she might be able to tutor him in calculus. She willingly accepted, setting aside nearly three hours that followed to coach Samuel to a greater understanding of mathematics.

Since African society is based so heavily on relationships, we also spent considerable time just talking and getting to know him a bit better.

(As an aside, I've often been told that when I leave Mozambique, I will measure my success by the tangible results that I achieve, but that Mozambicans will measure my success by the relationships that have been built.)

Samuel is 22 (I had guessed mid- to late-20s -- I was wrong) and is finishing his last year of high school this year. The school year runs in-line with the calendar year, so he'll start final exams in November.

If he doesn't pass an exam, he has to wait a year to re-write it.

(We've heard rumours that passing an exam in Mozambique too often requires payment of bribes or worse. Samuel didn't mention anything of the sort. When reflecting back upon his failed Portuguese exam of the year before, he commented only that he felt that he had done better, but that Portuguese must be more difficult than he had thought.)

Students in Mozambique have only a couple hours of instruction each day to allow for more "efficient" utilization of physical capital: typically three or four levels of classes will meet in succession in the same building, each for about three hours a day.

Despite this, Samuel's calculus curriculum is roughly equivalent to what Laura learned at her Canadian high school. Here, it seems, students are given the basic principles and are made to sink or swim on their own. I have yet to see anyone with a textbook for any subject.

As Samuel made his way to the door, we wished him "good luck." He didn't understand what we meant, so we translated into Portuguese. Boa sorte. He still looked puzzled. "Luck is when you are walking down the street and find money," he said.

He continued his thought, "The only two areas in which people really need luck are opportunity and capacity. If you're lucky in these two areas, you'll be successful in any other area of importance."

Opportunity and capacity. Very insightful, I thought. Too often in Canada we consider even these two areas to be fully within our control.

Samuel considers himself lucky on the first account. After his father died when Samuel was only five, his older brother travelled 1,200 kilometres north to pick him up in Nampula Province, brought him back to Maputo City and took him in. For the next 15 years, the brother-turned-father made the sacrifices required to ensure that Samuel was properly nourished and educated. These are significant sacrifices in Mozambique, and sacrifices for which Samuel is grateful.

After high school, Samuel wants to study agriculture and then return to his birth place of Nampula. First he needs to pass his exams and be accepted into university.

Laura surmised that Samuel was lucky on the capacity front, too. He picked up calculus fairly easily. A bright young man.

We realized that wishing someone "luck" is sort of strange, particularly for an endeavour that requires so much hard work and preparation. On his second attempt for the door, we changed our tack and conveyed our hope that Samuel would do well on his exams.

Once he was gone, we quietly hoped that he would do well in life, as well. He certainly seems to have had the good fortune of opportunity and capacity thusfar.