Not long ago, there was a world without boundaries. Where anyone could pack up their bags and loose themselves in a world full of surprises. Surprises, some good, some not so good, but each one full of life, making it that bit more interesting for the grand children to listen to with wide eager eyes.
But sadly, there are borders now. Borders between states, countries, religions and races. Borders that separate men and women and their hearts. And in these divided times, one has to have a little imagination to craft some stories for themselves.
“This is the park”, she said. They were sitting on a bench in a desolate place. “Here is where the children play. And here, are the swings. And here (gesturing behind them) is where the sea is.”
“Its not look like a park, but it’s a park. You’ve to imagine.”
Once not long ago, in the middle of nowhere, a woman was waiting for something interesting to happen in her life. No man, no children, no culture, her life was as uneventful as the desert her town lied in. To this barren life of hers, suddenly came a band of men as bewildered as she was herself. And like a sudden sapling in a stark desert, there was excitement, adventure, humor, and there was love.
“In the early hours of the sea, you can hear the whole world, like a symphony”, said one of them, the band leader.
This is their story. Of Dina, of Tawfiq, of Khaled, of the Alexandria Police Orchestra lost in a lost Israeli town, Beit Hatikva.
“Once not long ago, a small Egyptian police band arrived in Israel. Not many people remember this, it was not important.” But it is, it is, you’ll say to yourself, when you watch this slow, humorous, heart ache of a movie unfold across the screen. And you’ll want to tell the world, how important it was, how beautiful it is.
And maybe you’ll also say like Khaled, “I can tell you, but only in Arabic.”
Or, in the language of imagination maybe?