我们现在去哪儿

Unity and coexistence are often easier to pronounce than to actually practice. That was the case in Where do we go now? – in which a village nothing but mundane – but with the exception that Muslims and Christians are cohabiting in the same village. Their coexistence, however, are under increasing strain as sectarian conflicts seep into their daily lives, enraging the males in the village.

Sectarian conflict would be one of the most common themes presented in this movie: Indeed, the fist fights, the gun shots, and the screaming all forebode the coming of violence. And this is definitely not the first time that this sort of violence erupted. When a village was surrounded by barbed wires and landmines, with residents getting killed in conflict, we could almost imagine an almost identical past where the fate of this small village was inevitably linked to a larger history.

The barbed wires and landmines form a powerful symbolism on multiple levels – it first, as previously mentioned, signifies previous existence of violence, conflict, and death, but at the same time underwrites the village’s isolation. How did those barbed wires get placed? Don’t they have an isolating effect for the village from the outside world? It leaves much room for speculation, that maybe the reason that Muslims and Christians were able to coexist was the existence of those wires. But ultimately, even the most insurmountable physical barrier succumbed in front of modern technology, which delivered news of those conflicts to the male residents. The theme of technology’s role is worth contemplation – whether their existences fueled sectarian and other types of conflicts? Isn’t it that we’re living in a conflict-ridden world now?

But maybe technology both matters and does not matter. With motivations, be it sectarian or other reasons, people would find ways for violence. If it’s not guns, then knives. It seemed that just as the characters in the film continuously mentioned, they are already cursed. Religious leaders in this film do not play an important role in this film because they’re powerless to rein in their adherents, which would be weird when you think about the supposed role of those leaders. Maybe it’s not because of religious differences that people resort to violence, but a simple us-them mentality made religion an easy scapegoat and fanned violence and contention. When the Father told the Imam “Dear Imam, forgive them, as they don’t know what they’re doing,” it led me questioning why people always attribute religions as the root cause for violence, but not something inherent in us.

And maybe we should reflect on our behaviors in light of that. When the head of the village ceremoniously announced the opening of TV, he used MSA and celebrated how unity could overcome divide, and the lofty ideal of unity and coexistence. But when the test arrived, did he stand up to it? Maybe we should stop those empty talks of ideals, dreams – all unrealistic and would ultimately prove disappointing – and actually focus on human beings – as did the women in this movie. They’re the heroes.

The rich symbolisms in this film are especially impressive. The beginning of the film shows several footages – both Muslim and Christian women cleaning the final resting place of their families, the barbed wires and the minefields. These gradually start to make sense as the movie progresses, and, upon reflection, convey great meaning. The graveyard is an especially potent one, when the Ukranian dancers remarked “even dead, they’re divided.” And when they ultimately Nassim, the question “Where do we go now?” put another layer of emphasis on this piece of land. The question not only indicates a dilemma, but most importantly, may show the uncreativeness when people deal with these issues.

“Where do we go from now?” The question got me thinking. If they’re only going away from this crisis, but not finding a real, creative path, maybe the tragedy would re-enact themselves again in this One Hundred Years of Solitude-like piece of land.