Arts & Events

Three young tourists, a woman and two male friends, travel to a distant and dangerous part of the world. They cross a restricted border and find their lives changed forever. This sounds like the saga of Sarah Shourd, Jeff and Shane Bauer and Josh Fattal but this is the story of another trio — three student journalists from Europe who crossed into the killing fields of Kilinochchi at the end of Sri Lanka’s bloody rampage against the LTTE — the Liberation Tigers. 

These young reporters were the first foreigners allowed to enter a region that had seen other journalists murdered. They returned with 30 videotapes and 4,000 photos and produced a remarkable and unique record of civil conflict that would otherwise have remained hidden from the eyes of the world.Their film, “The Truth that Wasn’t There,” will have it’s US premiere at the Castro Theatre at 4:20 on November 6. “The Truth” will be screened as part of the San Francisco International South Asian Film Festival, which opens on November 3 and runs through November 7 at the Castro and Brava Theatres. The festival showcases 15 diverse works from filmmakers in India, Tibet, Pakistan, Britain and the US. 

The handheld camerawork is often jittery and unprofessional and much of the footage consists of scenes that flash by, shot on-the-fly as a car races down roads on long drives through a war-ravaged countryside. “This is our story,” the filmmakers confess. “Wholly subjective, entirely contradictory.” 

As one of the team admits, the closing years of the nearly 30-year war was “a time when propaganda and misinformation pervaded both sides so severely that truth was lost at the very moment it was needed most.” 

The three filmmakers arrived in Sri Lanka at the declared end of the conflict. As part of a student project, the trio found themselves granted permission to enter areas that had previously been banned to independent journalists.Closely accompanied by government military guides, they traveled through northeastern Sri Lanka to Menik Farm, an infamous detention center where tens of thousands of displaced tamils were reportedly confined in unhealthy, overcrowded conditions. They visited Kilonochchi, the devastated former capital of the LTTE, Mullaitivu, the final battle ground of the war, and Challai Beach, the scene of one of the war’s bloodiest, final battles. 

The war between the government and the Tamil rebels posed “huge contradictions.” On one side, there were the brutal acts of terror committed by the Tamil Tigers; on the other, the brutal response on the part of the government that raised international cries of “Tamil genocide.” 

“You don’t know who to believe because both sides launched a huge propaganda campaign,” says Philip Panchenko, the team’s photographer. The conflicting stories had a polarizing effect, notes videographer Heidi Lindvall “where the more moderate voices had no effect whatsoever.” The experience was especially difficult for director Guy Gunarathe. “Being from the Singalese diaspora, it was most disconcerting for me,” he says. 

The first visit — to a displaced persons camp called Menik Farm — proved a shock. Instead of encountering the horrible conditions reported by international human rights organizations, the filmmakers found a bustling, model village. They were shown villagers shopping for fresh produce and patronizing a coop bank. Schools, computer centers and vocational training buildings were filled with teachers and well-dressed children. 

The filmmakers were suspicious and wondered if their cameras were being used to promote an unrepresentative image of a “model” camp. It was impossible to speak to any detainees privately but in the training center, a student planning a block of wood admitted he had no idea what he was supposed to be building. Meanwhile, all of the support facilities had been clearly labeled with large block letters — in English — perfect for staged photos. 

After leaving the refugee camps, the filmmakers were driven into former LTTE territory — a three-hour drive along “a long, straight road, with destruction on either side — void of color, void of life.”At one point, the team leaves their car to tour an empty, devastated school. Amid the rubble of toppled books, they discover a teacher’s record-book listing, in neat hand-written letters, the names of all the children in the 9^th-grade class. A blackboard still held a day’s lessons, visible in weathered chalk but nothing remains of the teacher or the children. “It was hard walking through that battered town.” Guy recalls. “There was just nothing left here to hold onto.”They visit the empty shell of a gutted home and discover the remains of an old record player and a solitary metal frame shining on the ground with the photo burned away — the detritus of a family’s dreams. 

The film reinforces the message that the violence of war is abhorrent and a tragic waste. The director, who admits that he grew up wanting to become a war correspondent, now admits he wants nothing more to do with war reporting. Guy has formed an independent company devoted to use film as a tool “for peace-building and conflict resolution.” The company is called Codoc Productions and this film is their first effort. The Sri Lanka experience prompted Heidi Lindvall to seek an MA in Human Rights. She has now directed Codoc’s second feature film, a story about abducted child soldiers in northern Uganda. 

For detailed information on the Festival and screenings, see: www.thirdi.org/festival