I happened to mention seeing the movie Green Book to an Indonesian friend the other day. He asked me to tell him what it was about, and that's where the confusion began. From the beginning, that is.
It is difficult for Indonesians to get a grip on the idea of bigotry, and of course one cannot begin to talk about this movie without trying to set the stage on which the story transpires. How to explain that there was a time, and not so very long ago at that, when black people could not eat in the same restaurant with whites, when black people could not stay in the same hotels or motels as whites, when black people could not even use the same restroom with whites?
In fact, the exercise of trying to explain this brings with it the unexpected benefit of sharpening one's own appreciation of how very absurd, and how very evil these laws and conventions were. It turns out that we cannot explain it. We cannot answer the question "Why?". We can only acknowledge the shame.
It is difficult for Indonesians to get a grip on the idea of bigotry, and of course one cannot begin to talk about this movie without trying to set the stage on which the story transpires. How to explain that there was a time, and not so very long ago at that, when black people could not eat in the same restaurant with whites, when black people could not stay in the same hotels or motels as whites, when black people could not even use the same restroom with whites?
In fact, the exercise of trying to explain this brings with it the unexpected benefit of sharpening one's own appreciation of how very absurd, and how very evil these laws and conventions were. It turns out that we cannot explain it. We cannot answer the question "Why?". We can only acknowledge the shame.
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