Petra, Part 1 of 3: The Pilgrimage

Setting out for Petra at 6:30 this morning, the moon greeted me above the As-Siq, the narrow passageway to the ancient city splitting through the rocks that tower 80 meters above.  Just as Falah had told me yesterday (STORY), there were no tourists-- literally none-- that I met on my way in.  Throughout the day as I met the people living and working in Petra, many of whom are Bedouin, they would ask me where I am from.  When I told them I am American, they would quickly reply, "Welcome, American.  Please tell your friends it is safe here."

Peeking through the end of the As-Sig, the immense Treasury stands guard.

With only one day in Petra, when some say that to see it all would take an entire week, my single goal was to visit Ad-Deir, or the Monastery, (85 BC- 110 AD) at the far side of the ancient city.  Walking through Petra, every monument I felt was simply "on the way to the Monastery". 

The Treasury (1st Century BC)

the Theatre (25-125 AD),

Urn Tomb (70AD)

Colonnaded Street (100-200 AD)

The Temenos Gate (125-225 AD)

When I arrived at the foot of the path leading up to the Monastery, several men tried to convince me to ride one of their donkeys (for a price) up the 800 steps carved into the side of the mountain by insisting it would take two and a half hours by foot and only 40 minutes by animal.  Not only did I feel that it was too cruel to ride an animal up such terrain, I also felt that the pain of getting there was an important part of the pilgrimage.

Lives springs forth from the desert floor.

Arriving at the Monastery, I paused before its beauty waiting for something inside of me to happen.  But it did not.  How long had I been anticipating this moment, and yet, nothing?  Approaching the Monastery closer still, I found that I did not wish to remain there and instead followed a voice that said "keep climbing".

 

Climbing further away from the Monastery, the natural splendor in which it is set was revealed.  It was not the Monastery itself to which I was being called, it was into the heavenly world in which the Monastery is merely a tiny part.

Making a pilgrimage to the Monastery (or any other religious structure) is not about arriving there; it is about not ending one's spiritual journey at something man-made.

My pilgrimage began exactly where I had expected it to end.

To be continued...

Introduction: Finding my roots in the trees of Petra

I arrived in Jordan late last night (actually very early this morning) for the Middle Eastern Premier of my film 'A2-B-C' (website ENGLISH/ 日本語), which takes place on Wednesday (INFO). 

Checking into my hotel in Amman, I was surprised to find it so festively decorated for Christmas. 

Yes, indeed, Peace, Hope and Joy.

But with Wham's "Last Christmas" among the holiday songs playing in the background at breakfast, they had gone too far.  I mean, you can't even escape from that in the Middle East?!

As this is my first time in Jordan, and indeed in the Middle East, I came a couple of days before the start of the film festival so that I could visit the ancient city of Petra, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World (INFO).  On the three-hour drive from Amman to Petra, Murad, my driver, asked if we could stop so that he could pray.  I said, "of course", and he pulled over to a roadside shop.  Rather than wait in the car, I went inside and had a look around while Murad went into the back where there was a place to pray.

Yes, I bought the turban. I am SUCH a tourist...

Arriving at the hotel in Petra, I found that my room had a gorgeous view that I assumed must be overlooking the valley in which the ancient city lies.  But since it was already almost three and it gets dark around 4:30, I thought I would have to wait until tomorrow to found out.

I went down to the lobby to ask if they had any maps or information about Petra for tomorrow.  Although it takes a full day to see the main part of the ancient city, they suggested since there was still over an hour before dark that I visit "Little Petra", and called a taxi to take me down into the valley.  While I was waiting in the lobby, I overhead the hotel manager saying that there were only four guests in the hotel tonight.  I wondered if it was because it is off-season.

In the taxi on the way to "Little Petra", the driver introduced himself as Falah and asked me where I was from.  When I said "America", he said "Thank you for coming", and told me that there were so few tourists right now not just because it is winter, but because of everything that is happening in the region- in Palestine, in Syria.  "People are afraid to come here, even though Jordan is safe," he said.

The 30,000 people that live in the modern city of Petra depend on tourism, and the recent and sudden decline of visiting foreigners has been devastating for the people here.  Falah said that until the war in neighbouring Syria, thousands of people a day would visit the main part of ancient city of Petra.  Today, he told me, there were just 100.  When we pulled into the entrance of "Little Petra", there were none, and no tourists means that there was no one to buy the souvenirs from the solitary woman who sat watching over them as the desert sand blew around her.  And this is just one of the many consequences.

Petra's history goes back several hundred years B.C. (INFO), but I am not going to pretend to know very much.  I am looking forward to learning more tomorrow when I spend the entire day in the main part of the ancient city.  For today, I just wandered around the valley, trying to take in the shear scope of what I was witnessing, knowing that this is just "Little Petra".

In the car on the way back to the hotel, Falah told me that his family had lived for generations in the dwellings carved into the rose-coloured rock until all the people in his father's generation were relocated during an official campaign to increase the areas in which tourists could visit (and spend money).

When he looked up at me in the rear-view mirror, I couldn't help but notice the tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror.

"You asked me before where I am from," I said.  "I was born in Watertown, New York, just like that little tree.  Every one of those little trees you see around the world are all made by the Car Freshener Corporation in Watertown, New York (WEBSITE)."

His eyes smiled in the mirror. 

Falah's roots are in Petra, and now so were mine, inside of this little tree air freshener swinging from the rear-view mirror of a taxi driving through the streets of the ancient city.

In thoughts, words and deeds

Another blog from the airport in Tokyo: this time I am on my way to the Middle East...

Since screening in the Lake Champlain International Film Festival (LCIFF) in New York State several weeks ago (STORY), life has been a blur of continuing domestic screenings of 'A2-B-C' (website ENGLISH/ 日本語), the start of my new job teaching at the University of Tokyo (STORY), and some other very significant changes in my personal life.

After the screening in LCIFF, I traveled to Quebec, where I had the honour of screening 'A2-B-C' at John Abott College (WEBSITE) as part of their Simon Kevan Lecture Series on November 17.  The screening was arranged by the Humanities Department's Roy Fu and was held during his course "Technology and Human Values", although the event was open to the entire college.

When Mr. Fu initially contacted me about his interest in screening the film, I was fascinated by the context in which the film would be screened for the students.  He wrote:

The course "basically covers various technological systems and the challenges they present humanity, and their interconnectedness. Examples include agri-food, energy, military, media. Since its occurrence, the course has tried to follow the events at Fukushima. An important question in the course: "how can we do things differently, in face of monopolizing technological systems? what kinds of system changes are needed? what kinds of feasible actions are being taken? how does the individual fit in the scheme of potential change?

"Of course to address the above questions, there needs to be a thorough understanding of how things are currently done, including how terribly destructive systems have a hold on us all. This is where your film comes in..."

Following the screening, there was more than an hour to answer the student's questions and discuss some of the events surrounding what is contained in the film.

The next day the film was screened at Montreal's McGill University, at an event organized by Kizuna Japon (INFO) with the help of many volunteers and sponsoring professors.  The screening was standing-room only and the post-screening discussion, at which I was surprised to find several friends and associates in attendance, was lively.

Returning home to Japan on the 20th, I hit the ground running, attending screenings in Akiruno on the 22nd and Seto on the 24th (Japan domestic screening info HERE).  While the film was screening in Seto, I folded origami with some of the children of the event volunteers in the lobby, and when I entered the hall for the post-screening discussion, I found it was with a feeling of renewed hope.

While I have been officially working for the University of Tokyo since October 1 (with meetings going back into the early summer), preparations went into high gear prior to our first class on November 29th, which was held among the golden splendor of the autumn ginko leaves (photo below).  The class is called "Visualizing Tokyo", and I am one of the instructors along with Professor Nicola Liscutin.  "Visualizing Tokyo", is a "flip-course", for the online MOOC course "Visualizing Post-war Tokyo" taught by Professor Yoshimi (Part 1 info HERE and Part 2 info HERE) and is ongoing until February of next year.

As a "flip-course", our students complete part of the course online (by watching Professor Yoshimi's lectures) and then we teach them in very intensive classes (6 hours a day for several days that are spread throughout the semester).  In our class, we are applying the theory from the online course to present day Tokyo.  As a filmmaker, my job is to teach the students how to make their own film (or photograph or other visualization), and I am really excited to see their final projects at our "film festival" in February!

Meanwhile, I am in production for two new films, one that I am filming in Tokyo with a friend, and the other the third installment about people living in Fukushima.  In between screenings and filming, there was a "Special Sneak Preview" of my new film '-1287' (WEBSITE) organized by a local university, a 4am Skype with an audience in Brussels on November 30 (INFO), and I even found time to sneak away into the country side for some rejuvenation in the form of plowing a field with Mt. Fuji in the background and partaking in delicious meals prepared with home-grown vegetables.

Yesterday, the last piece of my visa puzzle fell into place as I returned to immigration to have a required "special permission" stamped into my passport.  Having been approved just the day before, it was not a day too soon: this morning I am on my way to Jordan where 'A2-B-C' will be screened on December 16 in Amman (INFO).

This has been simply the most incredible year, and I can not fully express with words the gratitude in my thoughts.  May I receive the strength to express it with my deeds.

Under the bus

In 2000, I graduated from Plattsburgh State University (PSU) in Upstate New York with a degree in English Literature and a minor in theatre.  Since moving to Japan shortly after graduation, I have been back twice, visiting once in 2006 when I was screening my first feature documentary "the ballad of vicki and jake" (WEBSITE) in Quebec's Rencontres internationales du documentaire de Montréal (RIDM, STORY), and then again in 2010 when I screened my film "Jake, not finished yet" (WEBSITE) in the same festival.  ^Plattsburgh is just over an hour from Montréal.

Four years since my last visit, screenings of my film 'A2-B-C' (website ENGLISH/ 日本語) this week in Montréal provided me the opportunity to once again cross the river into Upstate New York to visit Plattsburgh State.  With the support of the university, including from the Alumni Association and the English Department, I visited six classes last week, including "Expository Writing" and "Introduction to film and Literature" with some of the very professors who taught me the most important element of filmmaking: how to tell a story.

It was an honour to share with students my experiences since graduating from Plattsburgh and also to have the opportunity to personally thank my professors for their inspiration and encouragement.

“There’s not very much that I can do but even in some small way I would like to be able to give back," Ash said.  (Full article from the Nov. 12 Press Republican HERE).

This week also saw the inaugural edition of the Lake Champlain International Film Festival (LCIFF, WEBSITE) in the city of Plattsburgh, where I was honoured to screen two of my feature documentaries in a section called "Transmissions from Japan" (INFO).  Taking place at the newly renovated Strand Theatre, the truly international festival was attended both by local filmmakers and those from as far away as English, Australia and Sri Lanka.

At the VIP Welcome event and Filmmaker Panel on Friday evening, the festival screened my short film 'Even the Birds Need to be Loved', which has only ever been publicly screened once before when the festival programmed it at a fundraising event earlier this year (STORY).

Perhaps the most intriguing entry is a three-hour, two-film presentation called "Transmissions From Japan," for which upstate New York native Ian Thomas Ash will present two documentaries about the aftermath of the Fukushima nuclear disaster. (Full article from Nov. 13 Seven Days HERE) 

On Saturday, my two documentaries about children living in Fukushima, 'A2-B-C' (2013, WEBSITE) and 'In the Grey Zone' (2012, WEBSITE) were screened in reverse-chronological order.  Screening 'A2-B-C' first, shows the audience the current situation, causing them to think, "How did this happen?  How did we get to this point?"  Some of those answers are contained within 'In the Grey Zone', and watching the films in reverse order provides one 'a-ha moment' after the next and is actually quite surreal (and frustrating).  These two films have only been shown together like this once, which I wrote about HERE.

“I feel my experience at the university really helped shape my career,” said Thomas, who is a SUNY Plattsburgh alum. “I’m really honored to be able to come back and try to offer current students a kind of look at the things that are possible after graduation. And, I’m also honored to be part of the festival and help support the inaugural edition of the festival.”  (Full article and VIDEO from November 17 Cardinal Points HERE)

The films were introduced by friend, former classmate, fellow filmmaker and one of the brain children behind the festival, Jason Torrance, and many friends and professors who taught me during my time in Plattsburgh were in attendance.  The Q&A, also moderated by Jason, took an interesting turn early on, when, in an accusatory tone, a man in the audience asked a very pointed question in which he highlighted what he saw as a lack of "reliable data and experts" in the film.  Sensing he had an agenda and wanting to contextualize his line of questioning for the audience, I offered him an opportunity to explain the point-of-view from which I felt he was framing his question. However, he insisted that he was merely speaking as a citizen who was concerned that the film portrayed a biased point of view that may confuse people who were "uneducated" in nuclear issues. 

Explaining that I have never suggested that I was telling the "full or complete story" and that I had simply documented a group of mothers and children in Fukushima, I asked him why he was not revealing the fact that he worked for the nuclear industry, to which there were more than a few gasps from the crowd.  Beginning to stutter, he said that he didn't think it was relevant, before trying to continue his argument for nuclear power and against what he saw as the irrational fear of the mothers in the film.  After a couple of barbed exchanges, I explained that this time was for everyone to ask questions, not only him, and to the delight of the audience, I offered him an opportunity to continue our debate over a beer.

In the lobby after the Q&A, I went over to him to see if he wanted to take me up on the offer to continue our discussion over a drink.  He looked up at me and appearing genuinely hurt asked, "Why did you throw me under the bus in front of all those people?"

"By offering you the chance to clarify for the audience where you were coming from, I was giving you the opportunity to use the crosswalk, but you still tried to hide the fact that you work for the nuclear industry," I replied.  I hadn't thrown him under the bus, he had jumped in front of it all by himself. 

At the closing ceremony on Sunday evening, I was honoured to receive "The Golden Honey Comb for Outstanding Work in Film" (full list of award winners HERE) which was presented to me by Jason Torrance.  And after a reference to me as an "internationally-acclaimed filmmaker" (in that slightly tongue-in-cheek tone that only a fellow filmmaker can achieve), I was just grateful that I wasn't receiving a "Lifetime Achievement Award" with the implication that the best work I could do had already been done.  For as Jake put it at the end of the film about his life, "I'm not finished yet."

A Gate in the Wall

The last eighteen months have been very Full, and my life has changed in so many ways.  While I have been able to speak publicly about some of the challenges I have faced, others I felt were best kept private, partly in an effort not to create more problems for myself.  Perhaps someday I shall write a book...

It is with immense Gratitude that I now share with you my most recent Good News: with literally just days to spare, I have been given a new working visa!!!  And it is with this new visa that I am now officially able to begin my new position as a Research Fellow in the Graduate School of Interdisciplinary Information Studies at the University of Tokyo.

They say that with every one that closes, another door opens.  For me, it was a Gate.

In front of "Aka-mon", the gate to the University of Tokyo's main campus

Last year, my application to renew my visa was turned down by the Japanese government.  Without working status, the company I was working for put me on unpaid leave.  Without a salary, I had to give up my apartment.  The little savings I had was soon gone.  But the initial shock quickly turned into something else: a sense of freedom.  Without an apartment or money, I couldn't buy anything, and so I stopped buying things that I never needed in the first place.  And the job that I was secretly wanting to leave in order to pursue a serious career in filmmaking (but never quite knew how to make the switch) was suddenly gone.

Through the support of the friends and family who knew what was going on, I was given the strength, resources and Peace to embrace this newly found freedom and to do something I never would have been able to do had so much not been taken away from me: embark on a World Tour with my film 'A2-B-C' (website ENGLISH/ 日本語).

I was eventually given a one year visa (which I wrote about in THIS article for a German magazine), but I chose not to go back to work and to forge ahead.  Through the continued encouragement and help of supporters, I remained on tour until the May screening in Brazil, after which I returned to Japan for the domestic tour of the film, which is currently ongoing.

That one year visa expired today.  The question of whether it would be renewed or not has been looming over me for the past 12 month, and it was just a few days ago that I learned that I would be granted another visa.

To some, the Tour might have looked easy and like great fun, but I can assure you it was neither.  Nor could I have accomplished it alone.  From July of last year until this month, I did not receive a salary and survived purely on the kindness of others for food, housing and expenses.  While there has never been anything left over, there has always been exactly enough, and I simply can not put into words how grateful I am.

As I write yet another blog from the airport in Tokyo, this time on my way to NY and Montreal for screenings of my films (INFO), words that I wrote almost exactly one year ago today from this same airport in Tokyo come back to me:

And as I write this, I realize something for the first time: the more I embrace the resistance, the more I am becoming it.

Do not give in to the resistance.  Become it.  

(FULL story HERE).

I am Grateful for all that I have received, and it is with Humility that I ask for your continued support.

In Peace,
Ian
Tokyo, Japan