Original subtitles

Travelling on an assignment to the frontier,

I kept thinking about the incident at the Pireas.

Bodies of asian refugees in the sea,

after Greek authorities

refused to grant them political asylum...

Their determination to jump to their deaths, from a greek ship

abord which they had been discovered,

in the open seas, while crossing the Pacific...

How does one leave?

Why? Where to?

Is it like in that old song?

"And don't forget that the time to leave has come."

"The wind will carry your eyes far away"

- How are you, Lieutenant ? - Very good, my Colonel.

I'm not afraid of the border

but of a misstep that could be fatal.

The time has stopped here.

I can't hear anything but the river's roar, the night.

Do you know what a border is?

Greece ends at that blue line.

If I make another step,

I am 'outside'...

or I die.

Can you hear it?

No.

Come with me.

This is the third time I catch you doing this.

Be careful. If I find you once more, I'll book you in.

Don't you understand or what?

A year ago, a carton of cigarettes flowing in the river

caused a collision with those from the other side and... ten deaths.

Can you see where the trade here leads? Nothing can stop them.

Go, scram. Beat it!

- How are you, son? - Very good, Sir.

Can you see that snow-covered little village?

That village is the closest to the border.

People around here call it "the waiting room".

Why?

An abandoned part of the village has been a shelter

for a few years now, to refugees from various,

neighbouring and other countries;

Kurdes, Turks, Albanians,

Poles, Romanians, Iranians;

who crossed the border illegaly.

The Greek government housed them in that part of the village,

but, over time, their numbers increased

until they took over the whole village.

They are waiting for visas to repatriate elsewhere.

And, for them, that 'elsewhere' acquired a strange meaning...

Mythical.

Where have you been, old chap?

I was just looking around at the market.

Are you with them? Do I know you?

Ah... I saw you on TV, is that right?

That's right...

That's right?

One

Three

Seven... seven... seven...

...Nine

- Are you filming? - Yes.

A Kurd:

We had to leave our country

under the threat of chemical weapons.

When we arrived to the river at the greek-turkish border,

we could not go any further.

An Albanian:

My Calvary started at the moment when I crossed the border.

As I knew that I had left the death behind me

and that I was to regain freedom,

I ran like never in my life. I could not belive

that I had the strength to run so fast.

An Iranian: I would have never imagined

that one day I would want the Moon to die.

I can clearly remember

how, at one moment, I wanted that the Moon would die,

so that she wouldn't show, and betray me with her light

and get me caught.

Without doubt, that was the fear of death.

No doubt because the road behind me

was a synonym for death.

The death that awaited me...

had I not been able to escape...

Why twice?

I'm sure that I know that man.

So what?

Nothing. Continue.

When you are done, return to the same image.

Here are other Region E photos, and there too.

- Do you need anything else? - No.

Excuse me, but I never mastered Greek.

Shall we go?

Our tonight's programme presents an event...

The leaders of the three major political parties,

assembled together for the first time:

a meeting of historical importance:

That could change...

"Melancholy of the end of the century".

Instead of a preface.

Why couldn't we assume that at the moment that I'm writting this,

it is December 31, 1999?

Let's start again.

Should we play the music, or keep on with talking?

I repeat.

Our programme...

One.. two... three..

Are you still there?

What about the big boss?

He is trying to outdo politicians' desires.

There he comes.

I was looking for you.

I need the crew for another two-three days.

We'll see.

I uncovered something.

Something very important.

Why are you sitting in the dark?

I'm dead tired. Ten hours of repetition.

I've never seen anything like that.

And then, the music was out of synch.

Are you leaving again?

Listen how his book ends,

with a question:

By which cues could we spark

a new collective dream?

I wish you good health and happiness,

but I can not join in your voyage.

I am just a visitor.

Everything I touch hurts me deeply.

And I don't feel I belong:

The door was open. We are waiting for you downstairs.

"I don't have anything that is mine"

as I arrogantly said one day.

Now I've learned that nothing is nothing.

Who was that?

Ah... sorry!

- That's screwed. - What are we going to do?

We'll carry on.

How does one leave?

Why? Where to?

- Hello. - Hello.

Listen, I'm looking for an old man

who sold you some potatoes some time ago.

What do you want me to say?

Do you know who I'm talking about?

From what I know, he's a refugee from Albania.

He lives in the refugee quarter.

Every two-three days he sells me some potatoes.

That's all I know.

Why don't you go to the coffee shop he frequents?

- Which coffee shop? - That one there.

Us locals, we don't have much contact with them.

That way..

Lately, you can't stay out of trouble.

But then...why did he leave?

Why one leaves and lets all fall to pieces?

If it is really him that you are looking for.

Just a moment! What are we interested in?

Whether he left or if it was him at all?

- Billiard! - Right on!

- Let's go! - Where?

We'll see.

- And you? - I'll catch up with you.

Excuse me.

I've been told that the refugees of Greek origin

frequent the tavern back there.

I'm looking for some information about one of them.

Do you understand me?

We're waiting for you.

OK, I'm coming.

It's day already.

You called me by some other name. Who is that?

I cried again?

I have to go.

I'm soaked and I lost my way...

I wouldn't want to disturb you.

I've brought the bread.

This time it wasn't a pain.

Take off your shoes.

Bring me the straw

These plants, they like the silence.

They are born and grow in obscurity...

You promised you'd tell me the story with the kite.

- Now? - Yes, now.

A bit more straw.

When the earth starts to burn,

because it is scorched by the sun,

humans will have to leave.

Then, what history will call

"The Great Migration" will happen.

They will leave the countries

where they live,

each as best as they could,

and they will gather again in the desert of the Sahara

There, a child will have released a kite,

very high in the sky.

Big and small will cling on to the cord,

and all the humanity will fly away

in search of another planet.

Each one will carry a small plant,

a rose tree, a handfull of wheat

or a new-born animal.

Still others, all volumes of poetry,

written by men...

It will be one very, very long voyage...

And how will that voyage finish?

All the refugees will take on any name that they want.

Who is who? Try to prove it!

Do you remember the lame dog from the camp?

His owner, a peasant, went insane

because of a passing singer.

He cut the dog's leg and put his hut on fire.

He went in there and burned like a torch..

The dog stayed there for three days, howling in front of the burned cabin...

That's the one!

everything takes on another dimension...

Solitude.. uncertainty...

A feeling of permanent threat.

People go crazy.

Oh! Who do we have here?

- Good afternoon. - Good evening, rather!

What happened? Upset?

I called his wife

she will take the next train.

Straight to the heart!

Maria... Eleni... Wait for me!

Why don't you talk to me?

Have I insulted your mother or what?

When you arrived, you didn't have a place to stay.

I gave you a place to stay. I found you a job.

And now you are plotting against me!

Watch your mouth!

Dog! Son of a bitch! Informer!

I am not an informer

Blood! Blood!

Doctor! Quickly, a doctor!

To bed now!

Good night!

My mother died at the time we were crossing the border.

My father is late tonight.

Are you still lost?

My back... My bones... I am frozen...

All day long, perched on a post like a bird....

The storm had cut the phone cables

along the border road.

Some of us will have to work

all night to repair it.

Would you like to eat, father?

Our home is your home

Our home

We crossed the border and we're always there.

How many borders do one have to cross

to find himself at home?

Would you like to have supper with us?

It is late...

Someone is waiting for me...

Good night!

- I am a journalist - Go on, Sir.

What happened?

Chaos! Damn if I get it...

They have crossed the border to be free

They came here and they have drawn new borders

in this mud pit, and made the world even smaller!

And the fight, not a word! The law of silence.

Nobody knows if it's between Christians and Moslems,

or between Kurds and Turks,

or between revolutionaries and opportunists.

Lower him!

Finally, I have some information.

The man you're interested in surrendered to the police,

a year and a half ago,

at the same time as Albanian refugees,

and asked for the political asylum

What's his name?

Nothing to do with the name that you gave me.

Political asylum?

But what do you have? It haunts you, eh?

You see, your team...!

We are being ask to go back.

The director himself telephoned.

- So we came all the way here for nothing. - Call him yourself.

But are you not going to film the meeting at the river?

Which meeting? The bigwigs will complain, yes!

Good! Let's see what we can do with that.

Didn't you explain to him?

I am a tragic character...

In may case,I am paid to supervise the border. My wife is in Athens

and my daughter's studying in London

Gipsies!

Who knows where I will be sent to tomorrow?

Would you like anything?

What a discipline, you see!

An ex-soldier of the Albanian army.

He explained it to me very well. It is fantastic!

Then I'll take the risk.

We'll stay here tomorrow for this woman, and the day after tomorrow,

after the meeting at the river, we'll return to Athens.

Is that better?

Will you come with us, eh? He is an OK guy.

I do not know anything.

Officially, I don't know anything.

We'll have fun, I am not sorry...

Show us your scar.

Are you ashamed?

Show your scar.

Come closer.

This is for the preservation of the race.

While still in cradle...

our mothers mark us with knives.

All Greek sons over there carry this mark.

To save our race...

- Do you want anything? - Another one! Two!

The dissapearance of a well known politician

continuous to dominate the news.

His French spouse

and the police are continuing the search.

Meanwhile, different interpretations

of the motives for his disappearance do not sound credible.

His reputation as a writer has been

recognized beyond Greek borders.

His personal life seemed perfect

and his political future brilliant.

A deputy, a Minister in the government of the National Union,

which followed the fall of the Junta,

he looked like one of the great hopes

for revival in Greek politics.

However in 1980, the publication of his book

"Melancholy of the end of century",

caused a stir.

Today, recent international events

confirm the prophetic character of his work

But his critique of the situation provoked

reactions from all political parties.

Let's see the footage of a scene

which precedes his first disappearance.

The grand chamber of the Parliament

is full tonight.

We have been saying for a number of days now that

an important declaration has to be made.

All the political leaders were present,

including the Prime Minister.

There are occasions...

when it is necessary to keep silent

to be able to listen to music

through the noise of rain.

Excuse me.

I am a journalist.

We shall overcome!

What do you want from me?

I wish you health and happiness

But I can't take part in your voyage.

I am just a visitor.

Everything I touch hurts me deeply.

And then it does not belong to me.

There is always someone to say: "That is mine!"

"Me, I don't have anything..."

as I said once in arrogance.

Now I learned that nothing is nothing.

That we don't even have a name.

And that each time we need to borrow one.

Give me a place to look at.

Forget me in the sea!

I wish you health and happiness!

It fled...

"Voyage... Everything I touch hurts me."

"We don't even have a name..."

Good evening, my Colonel.

Bring wine... and all as it should be! Don't be tightfisted!

You know this place?

Ah! You are here? ... Good!

The meeting at the river will take place tomorrow for sure.

It wasn't easy to convince them to let us film.

I had to insist and take all responsibility upon myself.

But after that, we will return to Athens, promise!

You knew that there is also a marriage?

You hear them? They're already celebrating.

If you think about it, it is incredible.

A village cut in two.

One part in Albania, the other one here,

stradling the border, they meet in secret once a year

without regard for danger.

Our people often find corpses in the river

Here is the bride!

I warned you, however.

I told you that people here went insane.

I told you that...

It's the borders, the limits, that drive us insane.

Drink! I respect people who drink!

You'll leave and I won't have anyone to talk to.

I have to go back to my regiment.

Good night!

All that I know...

is to film others...

without fretting over their feelings.

My husband and me have grown together.

We belong to the same race.

I can feel his hand holding me.

One night, he'll cross the river and come to take me away.

I've never felt like this before.

Neither did I.

I suffer a lot.

Me too. A lot.

Can you hear the river?

Can you hear it?

It thunders like that every night.

It thunders and it calls.

I do not understand.

Don't worry about me.

I am happy.

What are you doing here at this hour?

Have you come to spend the New Year's Eve with us?

If I take another step...

A rural guard, riding by on his motorcycle,

very early in the morning, saw him in the distance by the riverbank.

He was looking at the river. He was carrying a suitcase.

The guard called him, did he did not hear him.

The guard was concerned and he called the police.

The police say that at the same time

a woman saw him in the city.

He was waiting at the bus stop.

She remembers that he was carrying a suitcase...

with a group of refugies who were repairing

telephone cables along the border.

Final testimonies.

He was seen disappearing in the distance towards the border.

Police was not able to verify any of those allegations.

I don't know if that was the man whom you were seeking...

It doesn't matter any more...

I saw it.

You saw it?

I had taken the border road to bring him bread and I saw it.

He walked through the water, with a suitcase in his hand.

He went, went...

He crossed the demarcation line and disappeared.

He has never finished the story with the kite.

Maybe he wanted you to finish the story.

Goodbye.

Why couldn't we assume

that at this moment

it is December 31...

...1999?

subtitles by quequetz