Yemen » Page 2

Tag: Yemen

The Reluctant Revolutionary

The Reluctant RevolutionarySean’s new documentary ‘The Reluctant Revolutionary’ will receive its world premiere at this years Berlin International Film Festival.

The film, which is set in The Republic of Yemen, will open the the festivals’ prestigious Panorama Dokumente section on February 10 in Cinestar7.

The Reluctant Revolutionary is about a Yemenite tourist guide who slowly abandons his professional distance towards the political “spring” in his country. His experiences with a customer, one of the last tourists in these turbulent times, politicize him.

Protest at ‘Change Square’

Walking through the streets of Sanaa on our way to ‘Change Square’ we pass tanks and troops with their batons and guns at the ready.

“Welcome” people shout to me, one man stops me to say “We are free here”, “This is our democracy and we are not leaving until the president resigns”. People wander freely around the tents, tents erected by people from many different religious and political persuasions; Communists and Islamists, Sunni and Shia Muslims, united with one goal, they are called ‘the opposition’, and for the moment they are, but the future, is one thing that no-one can possibly predict in Yemen.

That this remains a peaceful protest against the reign of President Ali Abdullah Saleh – who has ruled with an iron fist and survived for 33 years – is amazing, because, after America, this is the second most heavily armed country in the world where troops have killed over 20 protesters already. I am told it has taken careful negotiation keep the tribes from coming armed to Change Square to defend the protesters and to take on the military.

And last night in ‘Change Square’ saw the death of a wonderful 21 year student who was killed when troops tried to enter and remove the protesters tents – my guide said he couldn’t sleep after trying to save the man’s life. The hospital was overrun with casualties so the local mosque took them in, I met a man who’d been electrocuted with an electric baton, I heard other stories of men in hospital whose bodies were frozen from the gas thrown at them, it was called ‘tear gas’ in the press but these people’s nervous system seemed to have been affected; creating rumours that illegal nerve gas was used.

Yet still the area has a joyful feel, like a festival, on the stage people perform comedy, mimicking the president, but one can’t help wondering why a dictatorship would allow such a community to grow, and unless the presidents walks away, which he has shown no sign of doing, more bloodshed seems inevitable.

Return to Yemen

As I prepare to return to Yemen tomorrow i try to bear in mind that I explore politics through people and try take an audience into a complex political world outside of their own familiar backyard by finding attractive articulate characters.

As always, my mates back in Hull being my target audience. Taking them to a place like the Republic of Yemen appears a lot harder than my previous films – Iraq, Palestine, Japan, Hull, seemed so easy, they had at least heard of these places, but the Yemen, where exactly is that?

To me my films are all are like children, taking so many years to find, source, film and edit… in their own way they become a very personal exploration of myself as manifested through others.

I had originally wanted to make more overtly propagandist films in the naive belief that I could change the world just so long as I shouted loud enough, but thanks to my ‘FREE’ National Film and Television School education I was soon able to discover a more subtle honest film style, one that would actually engage with the audience rather than just shout at them – I found that allowing people to tell us of their lives and their struggles, their victories and their losses, was a far more respectful (to the character and to the viewer) way of discussing political ideas than any simplistic one-dimensional tub-thumping.

To quote an old school-friend “I find the worlds biggest scuzzbuckets and make ‘Human Stories’ about them”, I see them more as people fighting against the odds, people who haven’t been completely beaten down by the system, whose lives seem to consist of one battle after another… And, as we know, television likes a ‘Bad-Boy’, especially one that is in touch with his feminine side, and if he is also in love, and is able to talk openly about his life then all the better, no matter how extreme or radical his views.

I feel my new guy in Yemen fits this criteria, he is a breath of fresh air, at least to me he is, in this highly uniform traditional society he certainly stands out and give me oxygen even if he does get scared at the mass demonstrations (the armed forces have opened fire on some of them), though I feel his fear is for me not for himself.

On my return to the hotel room I see news reports saying that Yemen has been put on the high alert dangerous places to visit list by our government – along with Libya, Somalia and Ivory Coast. Maybe if (like Cameron in Egypt last month) I was here with a gaggle of British arms traders the UK Foreign Office wouldn’t be quite so concerned.

Dying for a drink in Yemen

I haven’t had chance to sit down and write about anything (London, Hull, Syria) since arriving in Yemen just over a week ago. In this dry arid land with the shadow of Al Qaeda supposedly lurking round every street corner I needed a drink, something to relax me, but there is only Khat, the hallucinogenic plant which (what seems like 60% of) the locals start chewing around 2pm.

As night falls a haze comes over the chewer and no matter what problems may exist, and currently I have many, everything seems just fine… But no, this is not enough for me, I need something stronger, something with a kick, I need a beer or two at the end of a lazy day, of any day really, and I’ve just finished the last of my duty-free.

So my friend and guide took me on a tour of some illegal beer houses to search for booze, but they were all closed and we ended up at a Chinese restaurant known for selling the odd bottle but at ridiculously inflated prices – I bought a half bottle of scotch for $25, annoyed, but pleased to have a drink, we drove back to my hotel.

I had the odd nip or two in back of the car, it was okay stuff, we stopped at the traffic lights and suddenly the doors either side of me are pulled open and two soldiers shove their way inside, Kalashnikovs digging into each side of me. Fortunately for us, my guide stayed very cool and he immediately got on to the phone and rang his brother, but, whilst talking in English, let the soldiers believe it was actually the British embassy. Meanwhile the soldier on my left has my half bottle of whisky open and is smelling it, saying, “Haraam, haraam” – Forbidden, forbidden.

But I was dying for a fucking drink and this man had my booze. Inside my head I was bravely cursing him, wildly telling him what I would do if only I got the chance… Luckily, in the real world, the call to the ‘British embassy’ had worked and both soldiers were now shitting themselves and asking that we ‘pals’ don’t mention their names, we agree.

The soldier hands back my whisky, and then his boss clambers in, first waving nicely then asking if I have any money I could give them, finally, the true reason for our meeting, I tell them I have money in the hotel if they wish to come, “No” they reply, and, as quick as they came, they disappeared into the night.

We drive away, my guide screaming with laughter, “Welcome to Yemen Mr Sean, you are very welcome, can’t you see, they couldn’t and wouldn’t dare ever touch a foreigner, and now even we are safe when we travel with you”. I had another slug and stared sweatily into the night.