Ok. It's nearly 2am here now, and I've just completed a psychology experiment for a friend that shouldn't be done at this hour of the night. And definitely not after a heavy-duty movie like Hotel Rwanda. Was a little disappointed that I didn't get to catch the unicef version of the movie last night, but heard that the one I just watched was on the same topic and historical background, just shown in a different light, protrayed, and thus received, from a slightly different angle.

Tears trickled, but now for a slightly different reason. It's no longer shed for a touching plot that's been written to move, but because of the conscious voice in the back of my mind that tells me repeatedly that what is shown is a real life story. That it is history in picture, and a rather recent one at that. That, while the characters may be actors in action, but the basis is reality. That after hearing and studying and being exposed to so much on the topic of discrimination, genocide, disparity, cosmetic distinctions, racial divides and so on... it's hardly ever felt so real before. Just like the cameraman in the movie dispaired: The world may be seeing real-time footage of the scenes of merciless, senseless even, genocide on their televisions back home. But what will most likely happen is, they'll just cringe at the gore, shake their heads, and get back to their dinners. Of course, this is not true of everybody, but it is callousness enough to depress. Then again, we may be watching the 'documentary-movie' now and talking about the problems and inequality in the world, about the injustice of things, about the cruelness of mankind when the attention is skewed...but we are still sitting in our room as we discuss these issues, warm and snug with our green bean soup and potato crisps... while the war rages on elsewhere.

Even the bush look-alike UN officer in the movie was crushed. Defeated by the bureaucractic system that is still colour-sensitive, as shown in the movie. Some scenes from the movie had become vivid still-frame pictures in my mind- the separation of the fair-skinned missionaries from their darker-skinned orphans and refugees, as the former is forced to get onto the bus that'll get them to safety, while the latter left to bear the hatred of their own fellowmen. There were many many other scenes worth mentioning, but this is not a dissertation, and I have no intention of boring u guys with what can only be experienced more strongly after you've watched it for yourselves.

How many 'hutus' and 'tutsis' have history witnessed? How many more continue to exist? The words at the end of the movie remind us that it is based on the real life story of a hutu, paul- the main protagonist whose strength of character, whose kindness, whose love for his family and people shone so clearly throughout the movie and for which I admire-without this claim though, it may well be easy to dismiss it as yet another storyline that's been written to move, and then forgotten. We watch, we feel...and then we move on.

One million deaths at the end of the episode. An incident as recent as 1994. Is it indeed the end of the episode though? And how has it affected the rest of the world?

Only time can tell.

It's a great movie that intertwines true incidents, history, love, heroism and a little humour and suspense. The contrast that some scenes make with each other- like the happily dancing and cheering scenes of the kids by the hotel's poolside, and the momentary breakdown of paul after he'd witnessed the bodies that lined the road his vehicle was trudging through- and several others, are so starkly contrasting that you cannot help but feel the pain. For you know what's to come, but the blissful kids do not.

It's good to watch movies like these sometimes. Makes you see that there's so much more going on in the world out there.