One of the most common disabilities in the coastal region of Oaxaca is sordera, of deafness. It may be THE most common disability since polio has been reduced drastically in frequency. Because of the poor education system in Oaxaca, teachers may not even have an education degree much less a degree in special education- which means two things: one, that children with disabilities receive extra-subpar educations, if any; and two, teachers can not communicate with deaf students.
Moises, a language therapist here at Piña told me that a normal life for deaf children is - less than expected. It´s assumed that kids will never be able to read and write- our writing being based so essentially on sound. So it remains his work to capacitate deaf children to the point that they can lead normal social lives in their families and communities. If they have any hearing, they can wear auxiliares, or customized hearing aids. If their hearing is too low, however, they have to find work where it won´t be necessary to hear. Like almost everyone in Oaxaca, for deaf children, work is more important than education in the long run.

As a pilot project designed by a chinese volunteer, Anali, we started working on a practical, locally-oriented sign language instruction video for children, families and teachers to gain a basic understanding of important sign language vocabulary.
We shot all day last thursday, with two actors and one translator- all three deaf. Spanish didn´t help and neither did English, although I found myself speaking it once in a moment of desperation. All in all it was a very cool experience and I am looking forward to completing our pilot 100 signs.

I am also almost finished editing a 10 minute video for the lifeguards called ¨Salvando Vidas en la Playa de Muertos¨ (guess what that means) that they will bring to Oaxaca with them soon to help in their quest for government paid salaries.

Doing these side projects makes my documentary all the more richer, and not just for the footage that they allow me to collect. I´ve come to heavily value the process of making this film as part of my own education as a filmmaker and as a person. I cannot really describe the feeling that using my resources to give and collect at the same time provokes in me. Just that it is perfect.

It's funny how a few cases of the flu can turn us into a country of hypochondriacs. On the other hand, Mexico can be such a contradictory place sometimes.

These are some quotes from emails I've gotten from two friends in Mexico City:

#1 "siento que es un movimiento manejado por el gobierno" (I think it is something designed by the government)

#2 "I didn't think it would get like this...it's like a ghost town...everything is closed...supermarkets packed and empty of basic food... people are freaking out."

The most prominent feeling I get is from the first camp. "No pasa nada" is like the mantra of this camp. Everyone is either suspicious of the government or so disillusioned after years of corruption and poverty that it's just one of those things that happens that people on top talk about and people on the bottom deal with one way or another.

Tolo, an ex-patient of Piña told me that fear itself can become a disability or a sickness, if we let it consume us. At the time, that seemed pretty amazing, especially since they say that stress can actually weaken our immune system. My landlord´s advice was to just keep working (and sweating- to get rid of toxins) and not to worry about it. "God will kill us if he wants to". That was pretty important too, I think. If the Good Lord wants to do you in, he won't need a viris to do it. He'll just knock you out of a coconut tree or send a scorpion into your bedroom.

Personally I feel fine. We're in the country and near the ocean. Although if this were a movie, the viris would make a sweeping comeback and kill everyone that didn't believe in it. So once in a while I put the mask on just in case the swine flu is watching.

Semana Santa continues here on Death Beach in a haze of Mexican tourists, Sol beer, disgruntled locals, government corruption and endless amounts of sand. I've spent probably about 50 hours at the beach this week with my camera on standby trying to get some action. I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right (wrong) time to film a rescue last week. I plan on seeing the week out as some of Mexico celebrates Samana Santa through this Saturday.

I went to my first Mexican wedding as well. One of the long-time employees of Pina Palmera got married and all the staff was invited to the cermony/reception which ended in a late night of volunteer bonding and ice cold Coronitas.

I've been getting closer and closer to what you might call a story. It's a real challenge to get your mind around how to turn reality into a story. I've tried thinking about how I do it orally. If I tell a story about something that happened to me. What I leave out and what I emphasize. It's interesting to actually pay attention to the choices I make. Try it next time you tell a story. I think the key are the strong emotions that I feel during the event or events of the story. The moments that seem longest or most ironic or most metaphorical. I'm coming to realize that it's all a very literary process. The choice of whether on not to actually tell a formulaic story always exists, obviously, however, and I constantly find myself playing with ways to avoid falling into easy, well-worn cinematic devices.

For instance, making a film about characters in an environment is very common. But what about if the characters are used to illustrate an environment. Herzog's recent film (which did NOT win best documentary at the academy awards) Encounters at the End of the World plays with this a bit and I think he pulls it off quite well. Still, Encounters is primarily about Werner Herzog meeting people, which is very different from how it looks like this film will turn out.

Oh, and Avi just went on a short trip to LA where he picked up a Ewa Marine underwater housing for the DVX. Harpoon fishing scene. Check.

InSight

I spent yesterday morning in the nearby city of Pochutla with Miguel Ángel and Mariano, two young blind men that I met at Piña Palmera. Mariano works for the center and was giving Migue a tour of Pochutla and a lesson in urban orienteering. Lots of interesting dialouge and reactions from people in Pochutla made the shoot a very powerful experience in adition to its usefulness in telling these stories. I felt that Making Migue feel more comfortable in Pochutla was a good metaphor for what Mariano tries to do with Migue all the time.

In a similar vein, the more time I spend in Zipolite the more I realize that I am becoming part of the town. From the first day I spent here, from almost dying on death beach, I have felt a connection to the town. Until now though, it has always been internal. Now it is beginning to be externalized as people I don't know introduce themselves to me or I find myself welcome in places that I was not previously welcome. I remember the first time I went for a run on the beach and felt offended when I saw litter on the beach. People can sense that a bit, I think. It's funny how our intentions make us different people.

Two new characters

The more I try and make this film simple, the more complicated it becomes. It's as if there is always something just beyond my grasp smirking at me knowing that I can't comprehend it yet. But I see progress as well.

Today I met two important characters for the film- not just for background either- actual characters that I want to put in the film to tell this story. One is the oldest (and arguably the most hard-core) lifeguard in Zipolite. He told me that he used to do rescues with a buoy and that he swims (what I estimate to be) 10 km a day!
I also met the family of a young man that was a patient at Piña as a boy and then became a lifeguard in his twenties. The stories are amazing of him walking on his hands from his house to the beach to pull someone out of the waves and then come crawling out with the victim. I can not imagine what that must of looked like. In more ways than one, he acts as a bridge between important parts of this story So things here are always getting more interesting.

The General and the Specific

Lately, things have been moving very fast. I've started getting into interviews with some of the most important characters in the film, having established a general framework for the narrative arch and the important themes that I plan to touch on.

I recently realized something important partly on my own and partly by talking to my friend and compatriot Avishai, who has just arrived from DC and will be helping me out here for the next two months. I realized that whatever I present as Zipolite has the potential to be seen as a metaphor for Mexico. I think it is a natural tendency for us to draw parallels from the specific to the general when we see movies, and I feel like it is something that I could actually take advantage of. Why not make this film a comentary about Mexican society? All the powerful forces in this film (disabilities, tourism etc...) exist in other parts of the republic and their specific configuration in Zipolite says much more about the national culture than just this town. It is a culture of insensitivity towards people in wheelchairs that has resulted in there being almost no ramps in large cities or small towns ANYWHERE. Zipolite is an example of that.

Clearly Zipolite is a special place and I realize that. I wouldn't have chosen to make this film HERE if I didn't understand the uniqueness of this place. Nonetheless, Zipolite is a product of the people that made it and live in it.

Coming Soon

First version of a trailer. More to come.