IRONMAN

Living in an exotic part of the world such as Hawaii affords you the luxury of being close to big things, things people would probably only talk about where you come from, and that is if they even heard of it. This weekend, I got to witness one of such things: the IRONMAN Triathlon, here in Kailua-Kona on the Big Island.

What happened was that nearly 2000 people in a number of categories competed in an endurance test of swimming, cycling, and running. They started off early in the morning with a 2.4 mile swim across Kailua-Kona bay, immediately followed by a 112 mile (180 km) bike ride through the lava desert and back. To finish off, the triathletes had to run a 26 mile (42 km marathon. And all of this they had to do in 17 hours.

What was most amazing about this was going down to the finish line and seeing the runners come in one at a time, like bone-weary soldiers on a glorious homecoming. It was wonderful. Many of them practically dragged themselves in, but you should have seen them and heard the things said about them. Wheelchair-bound people, people with prosthetics, people with only one arm...and their ages were spread across 18 (the youngest guy in the race) to 73 (actually the highest I had heard the commentator say about someone, so there may have been older folk). Men and women, different sizes, postures, and shapes. Businessmen, scientists, professors, lawyers, doctors - the race had them all, and it was such an inspiration to see them come in the way they did, hear the cheering from the cloud, and hear the commentator welcome them and say, 'You are an IRONMAN!' Their determination and courage took on a solid form as they approached that finish line - you could see it, feel it, almost touch it.

This got me thinking about where I come from, and a certain culture that we have, or do not have (depending on how you look at it) with regards to exercising and keeping fit. As I heard the ages of the arriving triathletes being yelled out, I searched my mind for any person in my parents' generation (and they aren't that old) that would be able to participate in something like this. Of course, that's a lot to ask of someone who hasn't trained deliberately in preparation for this. But these triathletes have run many countless races before now in preparation. They already had a lifestyle of keeping fit even before the IRONMAN came along; this was just an extra, more grueling stretch. Yet I can't really think of any of the people I grew up admiring and respecting even being in a position to consider beginning to train for such a thing as a triathlon. Most of the 73-year olds I know either carry a walking stick (and I am not being facetious) or like to rub in the fact that they are old (and they respected for that, rightly so). And I kept thinking, Wouldn't it be great to be able to do something like this at 70? 

I am not saying that the older people back home should start participating in events like the IRONMAN. I'm just wondering how only a handful of them would be able to even come to close to it. Physical fitness and exercise really aren't much of a value where I come from. Generally speaking, we lack the discipline and perseverance. And needless to say, I think we are worse off for it. I am implicating myself as I write this, aren't I? Don't worry, I have it in mind to buy a new pair of running shoes and begin training for IRONMAN 2015.

Great Expectations (WARNING: may contain spoilers)

Great Expectations is the story of Pip, who, as a young boy, runs into an escaped convict one fateful morning and gets the fright of his life. This experience is to mark his life in a way that even he never imagined. Along the way, Pip falls in love with the beautiful Estella. Part of the story is of how Pip deals with this intense, senseless, and fiery passion that has gripped him and refuses to let go. Perhaps needful to say, the story has quite a climax (or a number of climaxes) that either leaves one thought-ridden, satisfied, or doubtful.

This is the first Dickens book I've read, and within the first few pages I was laughing to myself as I sat alone in the room. However, the dry humour abates as the story progresses, particularly as Pip journey into higher society. Riddled with memorable characters, in true Dickensian fashion (such as the sagacious Wemmick, whose mouth is forever referred to as a post-office and never a mouth; Jaggers the ruthless lawyer, who 'washes every client off' with soap and water as though it had been a surgery'; Joe, Pip's slow but noble and beloved brother-in-law; Uncle Pumblechook, who continually admonishes Pip to be grateful to 'them that brought you up by hand'), Great Expectations is a sweeping masterpiece that tackles not just the life of a helpless little boy who grows up to be a man and learns from having it all and having nothing at all, but the injustices of life as were perceived in Victorian England. From the state of prisons to the education of country folk, Dickens pulls no punches.

Charles Dickens certainly was a master of the novel, and I not only tip my hat but bow to him. His characters in Great Expectations are so well drawn, with the most unforgettable tags ever. Many of them are connected in rather unusual ways, but these 'coincidences' serve to make the story even more heart-wrenching when I think about it. But it essentially is a tragedy, although not a tragedy in the traditional sense of the hero dying. It ends on a dark and sad note, that's all, but with the promise of hope.

Father and Mother

He walked to school along the path

That his father had taught him,

Where just beyond the rocky outcrop

Was the land he had inherited.

One day, just one day,

When he became big and strong,

He would farm it

And feed from it

And live long

For those he loved.

Something had come into their home

And had taken their father away.

No one saw it.

But it came, sure as night,

And they only saw what it did.

Father’s face, Father’s chest,

Father’s legs, Father’s stomach

Father had failed, and the light

In his eyes had died,

And Father too had died.

He counted the years,

Ten of them to go,

Then he would be a man

And wipe away Mother’s tears.

If Mother lived that long.

Because something had come into their home

And was taking their mother away.

No one saw it.

But it was there, sure as night.

And they now saw what it did.

Mother’s face, Mother’s chest,

Mother’s legs, Mother’s stomach.

Mother was failing, and the light

In her eyes was dying.

And Mother too was dying.

Mendes the Revolutionary

The man that gave us American Beauty and Road to Perdition is back, this time with a rather smart pairing promising to make history as it once did eleven years ago with Titanic. Yes, the man I am talking about is English director Sam Mendes, the pair, Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet, and the movie, Revolutionary Road. As though that were not enough, there is more flavour in this curious mix: Kate Winslet and Sam Mendes have been married for five years, which I'm sure provided for interesting and awkward moments on set. Sam Mendes, as the oscar-winning, first-time director of American Beauty, has always succeeded in romancing critics over to his side. No matter the subject matter or premise at hand - be it a middle-aged man disillusioned with his life but in love with his daughter's best friend, or a gangster father determined to protect his son from the damnation of his violent life, or an idle army in the middle of the Arabian desert - Mendes proves adept in portraying the struggles and dilemmas of his characters. And English as he is, the man seems to love America. All his movies have been either set in America or have been about America, including Revolutionary Road.

Revolutionary Road is about an American couple determined to escape the trappings of middle-class suburbia and the lack of fulfillment that such a life brings while at the same time risking their marriage. The question the film asks is: Can two people break away from the ordinary without breaking apart?

The movie doesn't get released until late December, possibly early January. Watch out for it, and by all means, when the time comes go see it. I have a hunch Mendes is about to outdo himself once more. And he really should pay me for the kind of publicity I give him. Check out the trailer:

http://www.revolutionaryroadmovie.com/

Bella...I wonder....

Just watched Bella, and I am mellowed and inspired. It's a simple story about 'broken' people, as Eva my friend put it. For those who haven't seen the movie, I won't ruin it for you. But I wonder how many women considering abortion, if they had an opportunity to go into the future and see the child they might give birth to, no matter what the child looks like or how it turns out, to hold and caress that child, to feel its breath on their face or neck or shoulder - I wonder how many such women having had such an opportunity would go through with their decision to abort that child. I truly wonder, because I don't know. Bella simply made me think about it. All round good film. Watch the trailer:

Call and Response

I watched a documentary on human trafficking a week ago. It shows how modern slavery in the form of the sex trade (as well as in other forms) continues to thrive. However, what made this documentary different and very interesting was its employment of music. The whole thing was essentially a concert by a wide range of artists singing against human trafficking, with interspersed comments by experts, actors, and other celebrities. The reality portrayed in the film was very sobering, so I went back and wrote the poem that follows in response to it.

Call and Response is a very decent documentary, and when you sign up for it, just know that you're in for plenty of music from artists such as Talib Kweli, Matisyahu, and Natasha Beddingfield. Interesting, I hear you say. Absolutely. One thing about the music for me was that sometimes, the artists didn't seem to be singing directly about the issue that the film was about, human trafficking. But then, I realised, they didn't need to, because a thing as universal and pervasive as music does not need to be so direct and logical. Just the fact that they were singing their songs on that screen, and the music I heard, was a strong enough message to arouse my passion and fury against human trafficking. The music certainly carried the spirit of the issue at hand.

This is what that music and those images inspired:

VISIONS OF LIGHT

Through my eyes and into the world I see visions

That run through dark streets and splash into

Moonlit puddles. Through alleys of despair

And corners that reek of dreaded fish that

Has been the staple of the mouth beneath my eyes.

My visions are fraught with hope that frightens

But also enlightens, that tightens the lashes

Of conviction and constriction, or consternation

For a ruined nation. Such are my dreams, 

Fleeting like a cool breeze in the desert.

I live in darkness, but not despair; I live in pain

But I do not wish for numbness. Dumbness seeks

To assuage my soul, apathy that preys on

The senses. In a shrinking world, a global nation

I live, and dare to hope. In pain, I dare to hope.

In fear, I dare to hope. In men, I dare to hope.

In God, I dare to hope. Because through

The darkness I see bright dreams and visions

That shine with the light of a thousand sunrises

And vanquish with the light of a thousand angels.

For more on  Call and Response, visit: http://callandresponse.com/